Mist & Moonlight

Chapter 37 | A Final Farewell

Rorik lay on a bed of furs, his breathing shallow, his body weakened from years of battles and burdens. His once-powerful frame, now frail, rested beneath layers of blankets. His family gathered around him—his legacy made flesh and blood.

Rorik opened his eyes, the blue of his gaze still sharp though clouded by pain. He knew his time was near. But he was at peace, surrounded by all he had fought for, all he had loved. His hand, weathered by decades of war, rested in Meryna's gentle grasp. She knelt by his side, her red hair falling in waves over her shoulders, her face streaked with silent tears. The twins sat at her feet, unaware of what was happening. Their soft babbles a contrast to the somber air in the room.

"You stayed with me, Meryna," Rorik whispered, his voice rasping but warm. "Through everything."

"I would never leave you," Meryna whispered, pressing a kiss to his hand, tears dripping onto his skin. "Not even now."

Freydis stepped forward, her newborn daughter cradled in her arms. The infant Halla was swaddled in soft furs, her small, delicate face calm as she slept. Freydis's eyes brimmed with tears as she gently lowered the baby closer to her grandfather.

"This is Halla, Father," Freydis whispered, her voice trembling. "Your granddaughter."

Rorik smiled, a glimmer of life sparking in his tired eyes. "Halla," he repeated, savoring the name. With trembling hands, he reached out and touched the baby's tiny fingers. Halla's small hand closed weakly around his thumb, and a chuckle escaped his lips—a soft, joyous sound.

"She has your stubborn spirit already," Freydis said, trying to smile through her tears.

"A good thing," Rorik whispered with pride. "She'll need it."

Meryna leaned closer to Rorik, her voice breaking with emotion. "All our children are here, my love."

Leif, standing beside Freydis, swallowed hard, trying to hold back his grief. He clasped his father's hand in both of his. "I will carry your name with pride, Father," Leif said quietly. "And I will see that our people thrive."

Rorik smiled, giving his son's hand a firm squeeze. "You were born of blood and fire, my son. Never forget that. But your legacy... yours will be one of peace."

Leif nodded, unable to speak, tears welling in his eyes.

Beside him, Erik stood solemnly, his arm around Freydis's shoulders. Rorik's gaze drifted to him. "Take care of her, Erik. You fought for her once... fight for her every day."

"I will, my King," Erik promised, his voice heavy. "I swear it."

Eydis and Astrid approached next. Eydis's normally fierce expression was softened by sorrow, and Astrid's usual cold demeanor was replaced by quiet grief. Eydis knelt by Rorik's side, her hand resting over his. "You were always like a brother to me, Rorik," she said softly. "And I will cherish that for as long as I live."

Astrid stepped forward, her blue eyes gleaming with unshed tears. She knelt beside Rorik, taking his hand gently in hers. "You were always good to me," Astrid whispered, her voice unsteady but full of affection. "Even when fate pulled us in different directions, you treated me with kindness. Thank you... for everything."

Rorik gave a faint smile, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "And I thank you, Astrid," he whispered. "For forgiving me."

Vidar, the youngest of Rorik's brothers, stood at the edge of the bed, his arms crossed as if holding himself together by sheer will. His jaw was tight, but his eyes were red with unshed tears. "You were the best of us," Vidar murmured, his voice breaking. "The best of us all."

Rorik gave him a faint smile. "You'll carry on, Vidar. You always do."

At last, Meryna leaned close, pressing a hand to Rorik's chest. Her tears spilled freely now, unchecked. "I love you, Rorik," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I have always loved you."

Rorik's hand, though weak, rose to cup her cheek. "And I, you. From the moment I saw you. Your fiery red hair blowing in the wind... In Scotland," He coughed, his breath hitching. "You gave me more than I ever deserved."

Meryna kissed his lips softly, her tears mingling with his fading warmth. "You are everything to me," she whispered. One by one she lifted the twins up to Rorik's face. He kissed each one of their chubby cheeks for the last time.

Rorik smiled, his eyes growing heavier. "I'll be waiting for you... on the other side, my love. We'll be together again. All of us."

The room fell into a hushed stillness as Rorik's breaths grew slower, shallower. His family gathered closer, each laying a hand on him—his children, his brother, his comrades. Erik, Leif, and Freydis knelt beside him, their hands resting on his arms and shoulders. Ingrid stood quietly behind them, her hand on Freydis's back, offering silent comfort.

With a final, soft exhale, Rorik's chest fell still. A peaceful expression settled on his face, as if he had fallen into a deep, restful sleep. His hand slipped from Meryna's grasp, resting gently on the bed of furs.

Meryna crumbled, her head falling against his chest as a broken sob tore from her throat. Freydis wept openly, clutching Halla to her chest. Erik held her tightly, his own grief a silent weight pressing against his heart.

Leif stared down at his father's still face, tears blurring his vision. His father—the man who had shaped him, guided him, and loved him—was gone. But in his place, a legacy remained. A family. A kingdom. A future.

One by one, the family knelt beside Rorik to say their final goodbyes. Eydis pressed a kiss to his brow, whispering a quiet prayer to the gods for safe passage to Valhalla. Vidar placed a hand on Rorik's shoulder, murmuring, "Rest easy, brother. Greet Brant and our mother and father for me."

Astrid lingered for a moment longer. She squeezed Rorik's hand one last time and whispered, "May the halls of Valhalla rejoice at your presence, Rorik."

Meryna remained by his side, her tears falling freely, her heart shattered yet full of gratitude for the years they had shared. She kissed his forehead one last time, her lips lingering against his cool skin. "Goodbye, my love," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I will love you until my last breath... and even after. I will remind the twins everyday of who you were and how fiercely you loved them."

The hall was silent except for the crackling of the fire and the soft sounds of grief. Outside, the wind howled through the fjords, carrying with it the spirit of a warrior who had lived, loved, and fought for everything that mattered to him.

Rorik's family sat together by the hearth, mourning not just the man they had lost, but celebrating the life he had lived and the legacy he left behind—a legacy woven into the hearts of his children, the laughter of his granddaughter Halla, and the memories of all who had known him.