The quiet crackling of the candles was drowned out by your painful moaning.

Fjola's face immediately lit up, noticing your barely noticeable movements after several hours of dead silence and immobility.

Her neat fingers moved the tangled curls aside and her warm palm immediately leaned against your cold forehead. A quiet sigh of relief escaped her mouth.

"Glory to Odin..."

The healer muttered. You are alive.

She remembers how her heart sank under the weight of fear and disbelief when, while walking through the forest near the village in search of herbs for a love potion, she came across your body. Having no idea what happened, the girl, with great difficulty, dragged your body into her house, where she laid her on the bed.

Fjola didn't think that the recent fortune-telling about a hot night with you would mean that she would be terribly sweaty and nervous looking after you, which made her feel like she had been sitting by the flame all the time.

She bit her lower lip in disappointment, calmed by the knowledge that she had spent all this time with you.

"How do you feel?"

She asked, seeing you open your eyes slightly. Her full lips stretched into a tender, loving smile.

Ah, how cruel the Norns and Aesir are sometimes, but at the same time supportive! The Völva, who has been in love with you for several years until she lost consciousness, has a chance to be alone with you. Albeit in rather unusual circumstances.