Sigurd was surprised when he walked into the room. He had expected to find Varda already in bed asleep when he returned but here she was still dressed, sitting in the almost dark room with a small pile of sewing on her lap. She had already taken her hair out of its usual braid, and it fell in gentle waves around her face which was half in the shadows. He was surprised when she looked up and smiled at him as he opened the door quietly.

She hurriedly tucked away whatever it was she was working on, it seemed like something very small and white with fine embroidery on it. She stood up and came to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. This was not usual either, his wife was not one for needless affection and when it did occur it was always in the dark of the room, as they lay together in bed, when the candles were snuffed and he could not see her face.

“Did you find her”, a small worried furrow formed between her slender brows as she questioned him.

He shook his head slowly remembering the ordeals of the night. They had searched as much of the area near the coast as they could before it grew too dark and cold. The Duke had finally decided they should go back to ships and get some rest before they began again in the morning.

“No Varda, we could not. We have searched as much as we could in one night. One party even journeyed out to the ruined church where they found her last time but they could find no trace of her”.

He sighed, “And to be perfectly honest I do not see how she could survive a night as cold as this one, on her own somewhere in the woods. Lochan has said he does not think it likely. I think Father Harndall is near mad with grief”.

He shivered slightly, “Lochan had to order him to return with us, he was desperate to keep looking for her. Poor man. I believe he feels the Sister was his responsibility and he has failed her somehow. But he did as best as he could”.

The mask dropped and a look of misery appeared on his wife’s face. The candlelight shone from behind her and her hair was falling either side of her face in such a way that he could only just see the sad little mouth and the sorrowful eyes.

He was not used to Varda displaying such emotions and he did not quite know how to respond. Where was the wife he knew, with her iron-clad heart and an impenetrable fortress built around her feelings. He felt closer to her than ever before. She seemed somehow vulnerable to him tonight.

He thought it a shame for her to look so sad, where she had worn a content little smile before.

“But Varda, you were smiling so when I came home, I hate to tell you such bad news and make you sad”.

Her face turned up hopefully, “Well there was something I wanted to tell you but I guess tonight is not the best time”.

“No Varda, please tell me. I would like something to cheer me up after the hellish night I have had”.

The small proud smile returned to her face.

“Sigurd… you will be a father in the spring”.

He had not been expecting this either and his jaw dropped. It had been so long since she had lost the baby when they had travelled here and so many of the women were pregnant now that Sigurd had feared the worst. His heart leapt at the though of a son or daughter lying in his arms in such a short time.

“Varda! That is such wonderful news”, he could barely contain his excitement despite the sadness of the night still weighing on his heart. This was a good reason to be happy.

He tenderly took her arm and she looked down at his hand. He had never seen her like this, soft and vulnerable and he felt a desperate urge to protect her and the baby growing inside her from harm. He wished he were a stronger man, a man with courage who was not afraid of anything. Sigurd was afraid of too many things.

He wrapped his arms around his wife, marveling at how she relaxed into them. The stiffness between them had disappeared for a time and now she was soft and warm in the stronghold of his arms.