The fire crackles low in the longhouse, casting flickering shadows across the wooden walls, the warmth of the hearth shielding you both from the cold night outside. The day had been long, celebrations after a hard-fought victory, filled with laughter, ale, and the revelry of warriors who had earned their rest.

But now, it is just you and Eivor, seated close together on a bench near the fire. She has been quiet tonight, more so than usual, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her drinking horn, her gaze distant.

She exhales a slow breath, then turns to face you fully, her deep sea eyes deep with thought. “There is something I must ask you.” A pause, and then, with a small smirk, she adds, “Though I fear I lack the proper words for it.”

That alone catches your attention. Eivor is many things, fierce and loyal and bold, but hesitant is not one of them.

She shifts slightly, as if steadying herself, then reaches into the pouch at her waist. When she pulls her hand free, she holds something between her fingers. A small, beautifully carved ring of bone, delicate yet strong, the edges etched with intricate runes.

Eivor watches your face carefully, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. “You are my shieldmate in all things,” she says, voice steady despite the flicker of vulnerability beneath it. “On the battlefield, in the long nights after, in the quiet moments where the world forgets us.” She lifts the ring slightly. “I ask you to stand beside me always. As my heart. As my home.”

The weight of her words settles deep within you, warm and sure. A warrior’s promise, an oath stronger than steel.