Vidarr was only vaguely aware of the warmer winds that had begun to breathe new life into Mythris. The behemoth closed his eyes, letting the wind brush through his fur. He felt the slight tug from the braids he had long been missing, the pale little Bjarki had been a considerable help to him in returning a bit to his homelands. As promised, Vidarr was set to bring the raccoon a few fish as payment for the use of his dexterity. When presented with the idea of either the river or the Winterscar, again he had chosen to close himself off from visiting the place where Genghis had perished. He had not seen the man as he sank, but from what he had heard it had been horrific for Dawnbreak and Vidarr was not ready to face it. So to the River he had set off, leaving
Hilde with a kiss to her temple and instructions for her to rest.
He almost expected to hear her footsteps behind him, after so long apart it did not feel right to leave her behind and yet he also knew from personal experience that she would have much to grieve too. It was fresh to her, losing friends and family and home. Before it had merely been the loss of his presence but this was everything. Suddenly Vidarr came to a halt, the echoed melody from his dreams - it shot through him like a bolt. He only knew one other who had the song etched to their heart the way he did. And that voice felt like it had been plucked right from his very soul, taken from the essence of the one he still missed.
Despite inheriting his throne Vidarr had never been the greedy sort. He was no more entitled to anything than anyone else without effort given to earn it. So the fact that his heart was not limited to one might have made him greedy had it not been for the way their people had embraced the chance for love as many time as one was blessed with it. Without much thought Vidarr joined her song, adding his much deeper tones to the almost hauntingly beautiful way that she sang. It was part of her, given by her mother if he remembered correctly, something she had heard for so long the notes themselves were written across her heart. Surely he was dreaming. Perhaps he had fallen and struck his head. The chance that Thyra might return to him so shortly after Hilde did - Vidarr did not know what he had done to have such luck
He still continued on - desperate to find her. Even with his awkward gait the King found himself running. He had to find her - he had to know. It was not just a memory, she was real and in the distance he saw her - beautiful as ever, and it brought tears to his golden gaze.
Thyra!
He had called her name so many times but it had never tasted so sweet on his tongue as it did now. It was unbecoming and if it was anyone else he would have worried. But not Thyra. She was strong, and as he collided with her seeking immediately to embrace her, a tangle of limbs and a heap of uncertainty.
Thyra - my love, my heart, is…is this real?
If it was madness that made him dream it all up, Vidarr wasn’t sure he wanted to ever surface from it.