The pair sat in silence for a few long moments, each of them staring off at the Wild Hunt’s camp. Seamus took a deep breath and broke the silence first, his voice quiet. “Have you and Thordin—”
Sif shook her head, the gesture making him stop cold. “No,” she whispered. “And don’t ask about it, either. He’s right, I ended up in bed with his brother far too quickly after he was gone. I don’t blame him for being angry, regardless of whether I did it for good reasons or not.”
“You did,” Seamus said quietly. “It was the only way to protect your child, Sif. His child.”
“I know. I’ve told him that.” She hugged one knee against her chest. “The All-Father sent me to find allies, you know,” she said, her tone almost musing. “I was supposed to gather anyone I could using whatever means necessary and bring them to fight with us, to fight in Ragnarok.”
“What stopped you?” Seamus asked.
She smiled wryly. “Someone pointed out to me that the world had already ended. If Ragnarok happened, we missed it, and if it’s still coming, well…” She gave a little laugh and shook her head. “There will be no forcing these people. They’ll either join us or they won’t. They’re stubborn and it serves them well.”
“They’re brave,” Seamus said. Perhaps foolish, but definitely brave. He smiled ruefully. “And stubborn.”
“Very stubborn,” Sif agreed. “But I suppose they come by it honestly, given their bloodlines.”
Seamus shivered. “Aye. Their bloodlines and the souls they carry within them.”
“They were destined to be heroes, weren’t they?”
He smiled lopsidedly. “No more than any of the rest of us.” And when I say that, I know the truth.
They were meant to be heroes. Just like we were.