FREYA
Freya settled into her chair with Vistra smiling over at her. Everyone had relaxed into their conversations and dancing. No one was staring at Freya. She was able to relax and look at the massive bonfires, with a belly full of mead.
After hours of drinking, Freya was having a hard time keeping her head up. The warmth of the fire and the lull of the music was making her sleepy. Part of her was afraid of how easily it would have been for her to fall asleep surrounded by her age-old enemy. Yet this was the best sheâd felt since before her sisterâs death, even if the good feelings were from the alcohol in her brain.
Would Raga be happy or anguished over what was happening? Raga would have wanted for Freya to find someone she could love. She would have had faith that someone would love her sister.
She wished she knew what Raga saw in her. Freya knew she was the chosen sacrifice. Sheâd been tossed at the wolves like a piece of meat for them to fight over.
âCome. Iâll show you to where youâll be staying. I sense a chill in the air in the coming days. Iâm not sure how well your kind handle the cold, but it gets chilly in the mountains.â
Freya was vaguely aware of Vistra leading her to a tent near the center of the camp. It was one of the larger rounded tents and could easily fit a small family. She was too tired to protest at the wolf-mother leading her around by the arm. Even on the verge of drunken sleep, she wouldnât dare speak against her new mother-in-law.
Vistra Fargrim was kind to her now, but that could change in an instant. The fear of Vargar was still ingrained in the back of her mind. She knew sharp teeth and claws were just waiting under Vistraâs skin to burst free if they were needed. Freya didnât want to be on the receiving end of those beastly claws.
None of the celebrating Vargar paid her much mind as she walked past with their leader. The walk to the tent helped to sober her up from the effects of the strong mead but did nothing to help the ache in her bones.
~Did these people sleep on the ground?~
Freya was relieved when she entered the tent to see a bed covered in blankets and furs.
She took a moment to take in her surroundings and try to commit them to memory. An animal-skin rug covered the earthen floor to protect from dirt and grass. A small brazier gave off just enough light and warmth to make the tent cozy.
Freyaâs belongings must have dropped off here earlier since they were stacked to the back left near the bed. It was a small pile of stuff, mostly gifts from the royals and a few things she managed to sneak in from home.
âIâll have someone bring you some water to wash up. Iâm sure the day has worn on you,â Vistra offered.
Freya could only manage a nod as she longingly stared at the bed.
âThank you,â she squeaked out before Vistra left the tent. She heard the wolf-mother pause in her steps, but after a moment she left Freya alone. It wasnât too long after that someone came with a bowl of hot water.
She was grateful and impressed that it was hot water. At home, they often made do with cold water.
She stripped the restrictive clothing off. It felt good to be out of the binding layers. She didnât enjoy wearing expensive silks. There was no mirror in this room like the room at the mansion.
Freya was thankful for that. She didnât want to know how worn out she looked. She was as good as married now, she supposed. This was her wedding night. And her husband was running around the woods.
She didnât know what had happened to the offering. She hoped she hadnât made a mistake by leaving it where it was. Hopefully someone here had the sense to cook it. She worried she might have insulted him by not doing enough with the offering. Why else would he be avoiding her? She must have done something to upset him.
She was too exhausted and drunk to work out what she had done wrong. Traveling for most of the day had been tiring enough. Staying awake for hours past when she normally went to bed and observing the Vargar had drained whatever resources sheâd had left.
However, she couldnât help but think of how majestic the Vargar had been. Sheâd always been told they were dangerous beasts, but that was not what she saw tonight. She had seen their beauty in the power they held and how carefree they were.
After a quick and thorough wash with the hot water, Freya dug through her belongings to find something to sleep in. She threw her hair into a braid as best she could. She still wasnât used to doing it without her sisterâs help. Raga had done it so perfectly and with ease. She was sure it looked akin to a ratâs nest now.
Then she crawled into the already warm bed and let her eyes close. The mead put her into an exhausted sleep.