Daughter of the North:A Shieldmaiden's Fate

Chapter 2 - The Funeral of Freya

The sun rose slowly over the rugged Scandinavian landscape, casting a soft, golden light across

the snow-blanketed ground. But the beauty of the morning was lost on Eirik and Freydis as they

prepared for the day that lay ahead—a day filled with grief and the honoring of a beloved life.

Inside the longhouse, a sense of heaviness hung in the air. The hearth crackled softly, its flames a comforting presence in the midst of sorrow. Freydis stood beside her father, her small hands

trembling as she clutched the wooden dragon toy she had brought with her. It was a reminder of

her mother's love and the many tales Freya had shared of brave warriors and fierce battles.

"Today we honor her," Eirik said, kneeling beside Freydis, his voice steady yet tinged with

sorrow. "We will send her off with the respect she deserves. Freya was a warrior in life, and we

will celebrate her journey to Valhalla."

Freydis nodded, though tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "Will it hurt?" she whispered, the

vulnerability in her voice striking a chord deep within Eirik's heart.

Eirik drew her into a warm embrace. "It may, my little star. But we must remember that pain is

part of love. It means she touched our lives in a way that will never fade."

As they prepared for the funeral, the clan gathered outside the longhouse, their faces etched with

grief. The air was heavy with anticipation, whispers of remembrance weaving through the crowd.

Eirik felt the weight of their gazes, a mix of sympathy and expectation resting upon his

shoulders. He had to be strong, not just for Freydis but for everyone who looked to him for

leadership.

The procession began, a solemn march through the snow-covered landscape. Eirik walked at the

front, carrying Freya's body, wrapped in fine furs, draped across a beautifully crafted ship. It was

a longship, adorned with carvings that spoke of her strength and beauty, a vessel that would carry

her to the afterlife.

Freydis walked beside him, her heart heavy as she kept pace with her father. The sight of her

mother's ship sent waves of grief crashing over her, each step feeling like an echo of the life they

had lost. She glanced up at Eirik, his jaw set in determination, and felt a flicker of hope. They

would face this together, as they had faced everything else.

As they reached the shore, a gathering of family and friends awaited them, their faces somber yet

filled with love. Eirik and Freydis set the ship upon the icy waters, a stark contrast against the

vibrant sky. The healer stepped forward, her voice soft yet strong, leading the mourners in

prayers and songs of farewell, invoking the blessings of the gods to guide Freya on her journey.

Freydis stood beside the ship, her heart racing as she listened to the words of honor and

reverence. She could almost feel her mother's spirit in the air, urging her to be brave. "Mother,"