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He had always held himself to a personal standard of fairness and doing the moral thing. He always put others first because it was the right thing to do, and he never questioned his role as a warrior in life after his parents had sat him down at a young age to explain it. He had been happy, in fact, to be a protector for his people.

He felt hisvegvisirhad guided him to be just and kind, but also that it pointed him to his fate. When he had recurrent dreams of red hair, Valkyries, and flames that pointed him westward, he followed his instinct to Logi.

What Herrick had not expected was the angry, foul-mouthed, and stubborn woman who had fought him in a pit, saved his life, and argued with him every single step of the way to Engate. He thought back on her fatemark that had the Valkyrie wings and wondered if she was the woman he had been dreaming of for months. He needed to know who she was, but every time they got too close, she lashed out and pushed him away. Trusting his fate had never scared him, but the thought of Maude disappearing into the night terrified him because he feared he would never find her again.

The locals from the town had slowly filtered out for the night, the musician trio having long since packed up and left, when Herrick finally stood and made his way upstairs. He was almost to the door when he heard Maude’s voice behind the closed bedroom door. He couldn’t hear what she was saying or if she was talking to anyone, but then he heard a child’s whimper escape from her, and he knew she had to be sleeping. He rushed to open the door in time for Maude to yell out into the empty bedroom.

“No, I won’t do it!”

Herrick spotted her curled up on the bed, her body rippling in orange flames that were devouring through the bedsheets and moving to destroy everything in its way.

“Maude!”

“I am nothing like you,” Maude mumbled, her face contorted in agony, consumed by her nightmare.

Herrick reached the side of the bed she was facing, kneeling, and quickly motioned for the water in the bathroom's wash basin to soar into the air and circle the bed where Maude had begun writhing on the bed, clutching at her face and sobbing. With another motion of his hand, the circling water above the bed started to downpour droplets of water onto the flames, extinguishing them and finally allowing Herrick to reach Maude in the rainstorm he created inside the room. He placed a hand on the side of Maude’s face, running a thumb over her temple, and spoke softly.

“Maude, it’s Herrick. You need to wake up. You’re safe and asleep in The Cask and Crow Inn. You just got done telling me to fuck off, and you fell asleep. Wake up and come back to me now.”

Herrick continued to look into Maude’s crumpled face, stroking his thumb on her temple and whispering soothing words to her. Eventually, she calmed, and her breathing evened out to a slow cadence. Her face, which had been showing such pain and terror, finally relaxed into a peaceful sleep.

He released Maude’s face and leaned back, examining the now-soaked bed. Black singe surrounded Maude’s sleeping form, the sheets and mattress now irreparably damaged.

Reluctant to jostle her awake, Herrick accepted his new sleeping arrangement and relaxed, placing his hand on the bed in front of her before he lowered himself to the floor to get some sleep. Before he could pull his hand back to rest on his stomach, he felt Maude’s hand grasp his tightly. He looked up at her, and she still appeared to be fast asleep, but her hand was unyielding in her grip, so he only guided their joined hands down to the floor wherehe lay.

Sleep found Herrick quickly, but when he dreamt that night, he did not dream of Valkyries and deep red hair. Instead, his dreams were filled with charcoal-stained hair, hard black eyes, and soft curves under his fingertips.

Maude slowly became aware of her hand hanging over the side of the bed as she woke up to the murky early morning light that was streaming through the drawn curtains. Minute by minute, she took in her surroundings and tried to piece together what had happened. Her muscles were stiff and aching like she’d been tensing all night. One arm hung over the side of the bed, her hand wrapped in something warm which was so at odds with the rest of her that shivered from her wet clothes.

What the Hel?

Maude opened her eyes to the brightening room and took in her surroundings. The sheets and mattress beneath her cheek were soaking wet, but she smelled the light, chalky scent of burnt linen underneath the damp new mold settling into the bed beneath her.

Maude pulled her hand back from the edge and felt resistance, so she looked down to the floor and found Herrick asleep, clutching her hand. He released her hand when she tugged gently, rolling onto his side for a moment before he started breathing deeply with the heaviness of sleep. She watched him for a moment longer than was probably necessary before she shifted to the other side of the bed and walked into the washroom, still dressed only in the band around her chest and leggings.

She halted when she saw herself in the reflection of the faded mirror. She was covered in soot, soaked to the bone with cold water, and had puffy eyes and scratch marks running down her cheeks. The scratches were still pink,which meant that they must have been deep if hergalderwas still healing her.

Noticing the color in her hair had started to run a bit now that it was wet, she dug out her last piece of rough charcoal and started rubbing it into her hair again to hide the tint beginning to peek through, then pinned it behind her head in her usual style. In shaky and jerking motions, she cleaned herself up while she tried to figure out what the Hel had happened to her last night.

The water clearly belonged to Herrick, which meant he had been present during whatever fit she’d had. Feeling a rise of anxiety start to build, she took a few breaths and removed her wet leggings to hang them out of the window. Realizing she’d left the clean clothes Thora had found her in the bedroom that was now ruined, Maude shook out her mother’s shawl that had been left in the washroom before her fight with Liv and wrapped it around her body, tying it in front of her chest so it hung loosely as a slip would.

Irritation bubbled in her chest, the usual reaction to the anxiety that rose from her gaps in memory. Storming out of the washroom, Maude attempted to control her tongue in case she lashed out at Herrick while trying to find out what the Hel happened last night that caused her to wake up in such a mess. She found him sitting upright on the floor, hands scrubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Herrick noticed her appearance, quickly standing from where he had slept, cracking his neck twice before facing her and taking up a wide stance.

A fighting stance, she realized.

Shame washed through her at the sight. She had made him feel he needed to be on the defensive with her again. Her irritation fizzled to nothing.

Having forgotten what she had stormed out here to say, what slipped out was, “Why did I wake up all wet?”

Herrick failed to conceal his laughter at her statement, which only pissed her off again. Her frustration started feeding into hergalder,embers glowing beneath her skin.

“You are so juvenile,” she growled between clenched teeth as she grabbed a small bowl from their breakfast tray and threw it at him.

Herrick ducked, the ceramic bowl crashing and splintering into the wall behind where his head had just been. He quickly put up his hands in surrender as he straightened.

“I only helped put out the fire you had started in your sleep and knew you would’ve ripped me apart if I had moved you when you were unconscious,” he said, his voice placating.