āStiorra, you must fight this illness. It is not your timeā. Uhtred pleaded, unable to bear seeing his daughter so sickly and pale.
āThe Gods say otherwiseā. She coughed again, harder this time, and she swore the force of such a cough would break her chest.
Uhtred looked up at Eadith hoping to hear a miracle. But all she gave him was a heart-breaking shake of her head. There was nothing more she could do other than to make Stiorra comfortable.
āWhatever last words you have to say, I suggest you say them nowā. Eadith whispered to both Uhtred and Young Uhtred before leaving the room.
Young Uhtred sat down on the edge of the bed, tears streaming down his already tear-soaked cheeks. āSister, I do not wish for you to go. I have prayed and prayed, seeking an answer as to why you must be taken from us. But God has not repliedā.
Stiorra smiled, albeit a strained smile due to the illness battling inside her. Nonetheless, she hoped it would provide her brother with a sense of ease. āYou must look after Father. He will need you more than ever after I am goneā.
Uhtred choked back his tears as he listened with great sorrow and a heavy heart to his children saying their goodbyes from across the room.
āI promise, Stiorra. Father will be in good hands. You do not need to worryā. He smiled down at his sister, holding onto his cross and saying one last prayer. But Stiorra gently placed a hand on his arm, exhaling sharply at the pain it held. āDo not waste your prays, brother. They will not work as my fate has already been sealed by the Godsā.
He sniffled back his tears, whispering, āTravel safe, sister. I will miss youā. Turning on his heel, Young Uhtred stood in the corner of the room breathing deeply, trying to steady his shaking hands. His father placed a solid hand on his shoulder before taking a seat beside his daughter.
āA father should not outlive his childā. He sadly smiled.
āWe all have our fates to live, Father. I have lived mine. But you must continue to live yours. Promise-ā. Stiorra battled out a cough, feeling weaker as each one escaped her body. But she fought through the tiredness and the desire to sleep until she had said all she needed. ā-Promise me, you will live, Father. Find love again, laugh with happiness and enjoy Bebbanburgā.
āI can not live without my daughterā. Uhtred let the tears fall, struggling to get through his words. āHow can I possibly wake knowing I will not see you again?ā.
āI will always be in your heartā.
Uhtred bent over to kiss her forehead, his warm lips feeling the coldness of Stiorraās skin as he lingered.
āIt is alright, Fatherā. Stiorra whispered, reaching for his hand, to which he gently squeezed. āSigtryggr will be waiting for me. I will be okayā.
Uhtred carefully placed a blade in her hands to ensure her safe passage to Valhalla. And as if Stiorra sensed her husbandās presence guiding her, she looked once more at her father and brother, who had returned to her bedside. She memorized their faces so she could carry them with her on her new journey. And as the room began to fade, the gates of Valhalla welcomed her.
She touched the walls, gliding her fingers across the stone, venturing further down the long and wide hallway. The warm colours of red, gold and brown blended seamlessly with the grey and white decor. On the walls hung a portrait of Odin and Thorās Hammer, and covering the ceilings were countless shields. She could smell the food as she neared the door, and she could hear the muffled voices of Danes feasting in Odinās Great Hall.
Stiorra glanced up, a voice she was glad to hear again. āWolland, I-ā.
āIt takes some time to get used to. But we are all here to helpā. He said, sweeping across the hall.
To her left, Stiorra noticed Hasten, whose attention diverted for a split second to send her a wide grin before returning to his meal. A few seats down sat Ubba along with Bloodhair and Cnut. Other Danes filled the hall, laughing and toasting to life within Odinās great hall. But the one person Stiorra desperately needed to lay her eyes on was nowhere to be seen.
Wolland sensing her disappointment, rested a hand on her shoulder, softly speaking. āSigtryggr is here, my Queen. He waits for youā. Wolland pointed through the doors, giving her an approvingly nod to go seek her love.
She hurried her footsteps past the double doors and hallway, leading her into another feasting hall. There she saw Ragnar, who smiled and lifted his cup. On his right sat Thyra, and on his left Brida. She looked up, a stoic expression written across her face. Stiorra did not seek any form of a warm welcome from Brida, too much history to mend in a single second. So she continued to scan the hall, her heart beating faster as she passed by each Dane.
There, standing by a stone pillar near the far left corner, she had found him. Stiorra ran past the Danes standing by the tables, and the ones warming themselves by the fire and fell right into Sigtryggrās embrace.
āI knew you would find me, my loveā. He muttered in her hair.
Clinging onto his body and voice, she was home once more. āI have dreamed of this day since they took you from meā. She whispered.
Sigtryggr wiped his thumb across her cheek, picking up the tears that fell. āYou have my word, we shall never be apart againā.
āWhat do we do now?ā.
āWe feast. And we enjoy each otherās companyā.
Stiorra smiled brightly, taking in the strange feeling of knowing she was dead but still feeling very much alive.
āWhat?ā. She softly exhaled upon meeting Sigtryggrās loving gaze.
He stroked her cheek, grinning fondly, āI have missed you, my Queenā.
Stiorra chuckled, leaning in on her toes to kiss her husband. āI have missed you too, more than I can put into wordsā. She muttered.
Wrapping his arms around her, Sigtryggr sighed peacefully. After many years apart, they were finally reunited.
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