Freya wished she could be the one to find and end him. To know that she was the one to avenge her sister’s death. In those moments where her rage was near to overcoming her all Freya wanted was to have her bow back in her hands and release an arrow deep in Ivar’s chest where his heart should have been.
Who would try to start a war other than a true beast?
It wasn’t long into the day before someone came to speak to Freya. The Adaryn were trying to get prepared for the ceremony all while doing their best to avoid the Vargar. Their long-held hatred of the wolves wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. Adaryn prejudices were written deep in their bones. Freya half hoped their wings would freeze off in the incoming cold.
Lorraine entered the tent with Amaya carrying the wooden tub the camp used for baths. The sisters worked quickly to fill it full of hot water while forcing Freya to eat for the first time that day. Her nerves were so riled that she almost couldn’t keep down the fresh bread. Nausea had been affecting her in the days leading up to this night.
A hot bath was greatly appreciated, however. Freya let her muscles release the unneeded tension they were holding onto while she inhaled the sweet scents of the floral oils Amaya had stirred into the bath. Lorraine helped brush out Freya’s hair that had grown in the time spent in the camp. It didn’t feel like it had been as long as it really had been since the day she was left here as the sacrifice to the wolves.
“There is a bird in the camp saying she needs to see Freya. Supposedly she is here to help her dress,” Amaya stated when she entered the tent with a crown of little blue and white flowers.
“A bird to help her dress? I’ve already started on her hair. I don’t need a bird getting in my way.” Freya could tell Lorraine had rolled her eyes.
“Did you get her name? Was it Kestrel, perhaps?” There was a hint of eagerness in Freya’s voice as she asked. Although she hadn’t known the seamstress long there had been a budding friendship between them. It would be good to see her again. Freya also knew that the dress for the ceremony was a work of pride for her, she deserved to see it.
“It might have been. Will you want to see her?”
“If it’s Kestrel I’d very much like to see her. She made the dress I’ll be wearing after all,” Freya rose from the tub and moved quickly to wrap a robe around her body. The cold outside the tent was pushed back from the hot water and small fire they had going, but it was still strong and determined to make itself known.
Amaya opened the tent and Kestrel walked in bearing a small basket of seamstress tools. She pushed back her hood and when her eyes fell on Freya they lit up with joy. Kestrel took one step forward but then noticing the presence of the two Vargar sisters she hesitated. Freya could just see the feather on Kestrel’s neck standing on end.
“Please, Kestrel, come in. No one here would dream of laying a hand on you. Least of all these two. Harmless as pups they are,” and Freya made to move in for a hug.
“I’m not harmless! I could take down an entire elk by myself if I wanted to,” Amaya piped up from the tent entrance.
“Of course, you could, Amaya. I’m sure you could walk your furry hide through fire and come out unscathed if you really wanted as well, right?” Lorraine picked on her sister as usual.
As the two began to bicker with each other Freya gestured for Kestrel to follow her to the back of the tent where she kept her belongings. She hesitated for a moment remembering all the fancy Adaryn gowns and robes Kestrel gave her and Freya had given away to she-wolves in the camp. Perhaps she better not mentions that and go directly to the chest containing her dress for the ceremony.
Freya knelt on the ground in front of the trunk that held the dress Kestrel had made. She knew that Kestrel was standing behind her eager to see the dress to be worn for this momentous day. Yet Freya hesitated. She couldn’t say why.
This dress would be the last part of Adaryn culture holding her back. However, it was so much more than that.
“Well, open her up. Let’s see the dress!” Amaya encouraged.
“Are they going to stay in here with us the entire time?” Kestrel asked in a low whisper, not knowing the Vargar hearing would still pick up her low voice. Freya understood the girl would still hold that long standing fear of the Vargar all of their kind would grow up to know. But that would end here.
“Of course, they will, Kestrel. These are my friends Amaya and Lorraine,” she gestured at the two sisters, “They’ve helped teach me so much about their culture and way of life in the time we’ve been together. I’d trust them with my life.”
The sincerity of her words seemed to release some of the tension Kestrel was holding. Her shoulders lowered, and she cast a very shy smile in their direction. Freya wasn’t one to miss the blush on Kestrel’s cheeks as her eyes raked over Amaya. It did take a lot to stop herself from smirking at the little Adaryn staring at the Vargar warrior.
Freya allowed Kestrel to do the honor of pulling the dress from the chest. The sisters standing behind them let their jaws drop to the floor as all of the layers of soft fabric were pulled out and gingerly laid out on the foot of the bed.
Kestrel immediately got to work examining every inch of the dress for any imperfections it might have gather while being held up in the wooden chest. She ruffled her brown feathers happily seemingly proud that there wasn’t a stitch out of place.
“Alright, there are many here to watch this ceremony and it has to go off perfectly if we want to make sure that there is peace for the rest of our happy lives,” Kestrel started as she quickly stood and turned to the sisters. “Will you help me in making sure that Freya is the only thing anyone will want to look at today?”
“Of course! Now move and let me finish with her hair!” Lorraine rushed forwards and had Freya sitting in an instant. They all got to work in preparing every detail the could from inside the tent.
The uneasy air that followed Kestrel with her fear of working with the wolves dissipated quite quickly in a short amount of time. Seeing them fall into an easy rhythm of brushing and braiding hair, then moving onto helping Freya ease into the dress was miraculous. Surely no one in centuries could have seen this moment coming.
Kestrel quickly found confidence in her voice and managed to boss around Lorraine when it came to Freya’s hair. It had to be braided in a way that the Adaryn in witness to the event would approve and also show off her handiwork on the dress she had created. It didn’t escape Freya that Amaya was the more willing of the two to obey the seamstress’s commands.
Perhaps there was more for their futures than just an uneasy alliance. Could they do more than just hold an unsteady peace? Was there the possibility of the two races mingling together?
At this time of the day the sun would be starting to set. If Freya were look up and locate the rising moon, she would have easily located it. Already the color blue had taken over the pale moon, showing all that this was the night that these once warring races would be taking another step in the direction of lasting peace.
And that's what they all wanted. What most of them wanted.
The ivory off-shoulder tulle dress was snug around the chest and waist. Long sleeves puffed slightly from the arms and were tied with silk at the wrist. Multiple layers of the soft tulle material spread out from the hips and flared down to where the hem of the dress skimmed the ground.
But what stood out the most on this dress were the pieces of armor that had been shaped into a corset. Anyone with eyes could see that this was a piece of Valkyrie armor adorning the dress for Freya's ceremony.
The back of the dress dipped low to reveal her feathers, and with her hair braided up intricately it was easy for the eyes to be drawn to the standout feature that marked her different from either side.
No Vargar had feathers as she did. And the Adaryn all had their wings where hers were missing.
All the women in Freya's tent began to pick up on the sounds outside of a growing and restless crowd. The Vargar were agitated and there was the a
dded noise of high born Adaryn gossiping noisily. They never knew when to still their tongues from wagging. All the hens would never stop clucking.
Tightness in Freya's chest only spread throughput her body the closer they got to the pinnacle of the afternoon. The closer the moon got to the perfect placement in the sky they would be summoned.
Her father was supposed to be here. It was tradition for the family of the bride to give her away. Yet, Freya doubted her father would be here unless he had been forced to do so. He had given her away all too easily when the option had been brought forth.
When you lose your perfect daughter there's no reason to keep the one who would have been better off dead.
But if it hadn't been Freya in this spot it might have been some other poor Adaryn girl placed in this position. Maybe someone else who not have wanted Cain the way she had.
Not having wings gave Freya an advantage in the end. She could easily spend the rest of her life on the ground with the wolves whereas any other Adaryn girl with her wings would have been miserable. And the thought of Cain with another left a pain in her chest she'd rather keep at bay. They were the only option for one another now.
Bubbling excitement was gradually taking over the tight fear in Freya's chest as the moment got closer. Her friends were a great source of calm before the storm awaiting her.
"The dress is tighter around the torso than it had been, but nothing uncomfortable I hope?" Kestrel asked while rechecking the materials and stitches within the fabric.
"No, I hadn't even noticed a difference to be honest. It feels the same to me," Freya answered honestly. But the longer she sat in the dress waiting the more time she had to notice it did feel a bit different. Perhaps the addition of so much extra meat to her diet was filling her out.
"The dress is lovely. I've never seen anything like it in my life," Amaya was stating all while looking at Kestrel with admiration. And the compliment was followed by Kestrel's cheeks blushing furiously.
"Oh, well, I mean, I only followed what Freya had asked for. It was easy to follow her instructions and what she had specifically asked for. This was too important a dress to mess up any part of. Especially when working with parts of her sisters’ armor," Kestrel stopped talking at her last sentence as if the words were harmful.
And perhaps months ago the fact would have hurt. It might have burned Freya to know she was wearing bits of Raga's armor in joining with the Vargar. Yet now, all she felt was pride. It filled her chest like a sun rising in the morning when she looked down and saw the polished metal around her midsection.
And there was the sound of someone rapping their fingers against the material of the tent's entrance. All four women passed a glance between each other in acknowledgment of the time. It was now, the time when Freya would walk forth and find her future with the next Alpha of the Vargar.
"I will be the last Valkyrie to fight for my people," Freya avowed quietly while running her fingers gingerly over the last traces of Raga's armor. "And I will be the one who wins this war," she added and with that she stepped out of the tent.
There would be no one to save Freya from this destiny. And there was no need for anyone to need to fight any longer. She would not want to be saved because Freya knew she was heading in the direction of her happy ending.
Outside of the tent the frigid air of the afternoon blew down from above. It wasn't strong enough to blow a strand of hair out of place, but just pleasing enough to help reduce some of the fire that had made its way into Freya's body. Although she had already found herself in Cain's arms there was the implication that after this day all the world would know that she belonged to him, just in the same way that he belonged to her. But she was ecstatic at the same time.
It was pointless to ever imagine what a future back in the Adaryn colony could have been. There was never going to be anything with Aurik, nor anyone else.
Even if Raga had lived there would not have been a happy life for Freya there. No day would bring the satisfaction that Cain could bring. And in knowing that Freya's steps quickened to get around the clusters of tents separating her from the awaiting party of Adaryn officials and Vargar who were all awaiting her arrival.
But when she saw her father waiting Freya stopped in her tracks.
At the start of a makeshift isle her father stood in all the fine Adaryn regalia of a nobleman. Anyone untrained of the features of Lonan Mourning would think he had no emotion in this moment. But there, deep in his eyes, Freya could see the sorrow he was attempting to hide.
There wasn't any time to think on why her traitor of a father had the gall to have remorse in his eyes when he'd been the one to willingly agree to hand her over to the wolves, he had considered mounters. You don't get to give your last living daughter to a beast willingly and then look at her with sadness.
Perhaps Lonan was sorry he had to be here. Freya only stiffened her shoulders and raised her head higher the closer she got to him. Although there was still the slight ache in her heart at the sight of him. Her mother was nowhere in sight, as to be expected with her condition.
The long tables that had been used nightly for feasting in the camp had been separated into separate sides, split down the middle with an almost narrow isle.
To the right where all the Vargar warriors who had been stationed in the temporary camp throughout this entire ordeal, from the start of talking about peace to now.
At the left were all of the Adaryn nobles who had been deemed worthy of attending this event. Although it still wasn't a great many of them. The fear they harbored of the Vargar was still too strong for them to feel comfortable despite how important this ceremony was for their shared history. Freya was disappointed in her kind and held no regrets at leaving them behind.
The end of the isle had the Hawke Aurelian and Vistra Fargrim standing side by side. It was part of the terms of the ceremony that it would have to be witnessed and administrated by the rulers of both sides. Freya couldn't help but grit her teeth at the sight of the Adaryn King, but it also relieved her to know that Aurik Aurelian was nowhere in sight.
It was bad enough for her that King Aurelian was here flaunting his own gilded wings. Freya still harbored some resentment towards those who had so easily plotted to raise up her family name only, so they had a noble girl to give away.
They wouldn't have known that the Vargar didn't really care for titles the way that they did. It didn't matter to Cain that Freya had been born into a family of no title before they had thought to use Raga's sacrifice as an excuse to promote the Mourning family.
Wolfmother on the right side was the picture of fierce beauty, opposite the poised and shimmering king. Her deep red hair had been set in row upon row of intricate braids and weaved with thin strands of black lace to match the near pitch black she was adorned in from head to toe.
But what caught Freya's eye was Cain standing tall and proud as he waited for her. Cain Fargrim was also dressed immaculately in deep black layers, accented by a thick black coat of furs around his shoulders. The sight of his dangerous red eyes devouring Freya took her breath away and she was rocked on her feet at the feeling overwhelming her.
Freya was in love with Cain.
Lonan took Freya's elbow in his hand and began to lead her down that thin path to her future. In those short moments Freya was experiencing everything and nothing all at the same time. She would leave her past and hurt behind and let the future with Cain be at the forefront of her mind with each step closer.
Her feet barely touched the ground, she thought. Each step taking her closer to the imposing figure of the most spectacular man she would ever know.
No matter how much fear the Adaryn nobles to her right held in her eyes while looking at the heir to the Vargar throne, Freya didn't care. The thoughts of the Adaryn were for the birds now. She didn't care.
At the end of the isle Freya nearly shook her father’s hand free of her arm so she could step into the awaiting arms of Cain.
It wasn't in trad
ition for the couple to embrace however the two couldn't stop themselves from finding warmth and comfort in each other in any moment they possibly could.
Cain had such a deep adoration in his eyes as he looked down and admired the petite Adaryn woman standing before him. In his eyes Freya was glowing and his excitement only grew at knowing that after this event he could take her back to the tent and properly ravish her. However, the appearance of Valkyrie armor on her person didn't escape his notice. He didn't have to ask to know that it was her sister's armor.
Their thoughts were disturbed as they broke part from each other’s embrace to begin the ceremony. Talking about this moment and actually experiencing this event were so different that Freya and Cain both looked nervously excited.
King Aurelian removed several strands of silks and woven rope from a podium between him and Vistra. With the strands in hand he motioned for Freya and Cain to give up their joined hands.
"These ropes signify the love, strength, loyalty, and future peace that we will be moving forward into. With bright days ahead of us, we have to place all of our hope for the future on these two standing before us. Cain Fargrim and Freya Mourning will be the pioneers of two races ending a terrible past and bringing forth serenity and peace that we need to build up brighter days to come. With all the power in me, I now officiate this alliance," the king poured a flagon of water over the tied together hands, followed by a handful of soft earth. "May the Adaryn and Vargar finally know peace." His hollow voice rang out over the crowd before Vistra stepped forward to take his place.
"I would like to introduce you to Cain and Freya Fargrim. Our future!" And as she raised her voice to shout to the crowd the entire party in attendance of this event rose from their seats and cheered.
Both Adaryn and Vargar rose tall to cheer and shout in their excitement for this historic moment.
But their noise drowned away for Freya as she was swept up in Cain's arms. He lifted her up with ease, letting the ropes connecting them fall away so he could hold her with all his might. They both put all of their emotion into the passionate kiss that followed. Even if a kiss wasn't a part of the ceremony, Freya didn't care.
The Bird and The Wolf Page 15