Astrid rose with the sun, slipping quietly from her room while the longhouse still slept. In the courtyard, thralls bustled about, preparing for the day's work. The aroma of fresh bread wafted from the nearby kitchen as workers moved between the longhouses, carrying supplies and tending to morning chores.

  As she gazed up at the wooden palisades, contemplating a walk along the fortress walls for a better view of the surrounding lands, Brandr emerged from the longhouse. He looked preoccupied but managed a quick greeting.

  "You're up early," he noted.

  Astrid nodded. "I couldn't rest. With all the war preparations, I feel useless just sitting around. Is there anything I can do to help?"

  Brandr's brow furrowed in thought. "Well, we could use help at the military port inspecting supplies..." His voice trailed off as he considered the implications. The port would be crowded with warriors and merchant crews, and word could easily reach unfriendly ears. "No, I'd rather not send you there alone without Erik or myself."

  He pondered for a moment. "Perhaps you could assist the v?lur prepare for the Blót..." He trailed off, shaking his head. The wise women were particularly selective about who they allowed to help with sacred preparations.

  Astrid shifted from foot to foot as Brandr considered her request, her fingers unconsciously twisting the edge of her sleeve. Finally, his face lit up. "Actually, I have an idea, but... no, you probably won't like it."

  "It doesn't matter if I like it," Astrid said firmly. "I just want to help in any way I can."

  Brandr hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. "We need an inventory of our resources. You could work with Hrothgar, my father's chief steward. He'll know what needs to be done, but..."

  "But what?" Astrid pressed.

  Brandr sighed. "Hrothgar is... well, he's duller than a rusted blade. I've never managed to stay awake through his conversations for more than a few minutes. I'd rather face Gunnar's entire army than spend a morning with him."

  Astrid straightened, undeterred. "I can handle it. I want to help, Brandr."

  "Are you sure? There's no shame in changing your mind."

  "I'm sure," Astrid insisted, her jaw set with determination.

  Relief washed over Brandr's face. "Thank the gods," he said with a grin. "You're braver than I am, Astrid."

  "I'll do my best to stay awake," she assured him, laughing.

  A thrall approached, reminding Brandr of his morning meetings. With a grateful nod, he turned to leave. "Good luck," he called over his shoulder. "You'll need it."

  Astrid watched him go, a sense of purpose settling over her. This was her chance to contribute meaningfully and prove her worth to the clans. She was determined not to fail, even if it meant enduring Hrothgar's tedious company.

  Astrid made her way across the courtyard towards the warriors' longhouse. As she approached the carved wooden doors, she took a deep breath to gather her courage before raising her hand to knock.

  The sound echoed through the hall beyond. After a few moments, the heavy door creaked open and a young thrall poked his head out.

  "Yes?" he asked curiously.

  "I'm here to see Hrothgar," Astrid said. "Could you let him know I've come to speak with him?"

  The thrall nodded and stepped back, gesturing for her to enter.

  Astrid stepped into the dim interior of the longhouse, her eyes adjusting slowly to the smoky haze. A central hearth stretched down the hall, its glowing embers casting flickering shadows on the timber walls. Along the sides of the hall, rows of benches and raised platforms were lined with furs, serving as resting places for the warriors and commanders. The faint clinking of weapons and low murmur of voices filled the air, giving the space a hum of quiet activity.

  The thrall led her deeper into the hall, past the warriors’ quarters. At the far end, a partitioned alcove was marked by a heavy woolen curtain embroidered with knotwork patterns. He stopped outside the curtain and knocked lightly on the wooden frame beside it, then stepped back, bowing slightly as he waited for a response.

  "Enter," came a calm, steady voice from within.

  The thrall opened the door, and Astrid's eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. The small room was cluttered, but in a way that spoke of great knowledge and importance. Wooden tablets covered every surface, some etched with intricate designs and figures. Strange instruments and tools she couldn't name hung from the walls or sat in carefully arranged groups on shelves.

  At a table in the center of this fascinating collection sat Hrothgar, grey braids framing his lined face. He glanced up, his expression neutral but attentive as she entered.

  "What can I do for you?" he asked, his voice measured.

  Astrid, still in awe of her surroundings, took a moment to find her voice. "Brandr sent me," she finally managed.

  Her eyes wandered to a wax-coated wooden tablet covered in runic inscriptions. Next to it lay swatches of cloth in various colors and textures. Astrid's eyes widened with wonder.

  Hrothgar noticed her fascination. "I use these to manage purchases for the fortress," he said. "Would you like to try writing something?"

  Astrid blinked, realizing her rudeness. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. Brandr sent me to help with an inventory of our resources."

  Hrothgar pondered this for a moment, his eyes studying her carefully. "I see," he said. "And who might you be, young lady?"

  "I'm Astrid, daughter of Chief Torbjorn," she replied, straightening her shoulders slightly.

  A flicker of interest crossed Hrothgar's face, though his expression remained neutral. His keen eyes studied the girl whose actions had set in motion the coming battle. He noted the mix of anxiety and determination in her bearing as she tried to maintain a polite presence.

  Hrothgar's voice remained even and kind as he spoke. "Well, I hope you've found your stay at Fjell?rn comfortable so far, Astrid."

  "I have, thank you," Astrid said, a hint of nervousness in her voice. She glanced around the room, marveling at the fascinating array of objects. How could Brandr have thought Hrothgar tedious when his office held such wonders? Her curiosity about the man and his work grew.

  Hrothgar leaned back in his chair, his eyes curious. "I wonder," he mused aloud, "what task Brandr needs that he would send the daughter of a chieftain to me."

  Astrid straightened, eager to prove herself. "He said we need to know if we have enough supplies," she explained, her words coming out in a rush. "He mentioned an inventory was needed, but I'm not quite sure what exactly I'm supposed to do." She bit her lip, worried she might sound incompetent.

  A flicker of amusement crossed Hrothgar's face as he observed Astrid's earnest demeanor. Her seriousness about the task was endearing, and he found himself pleasantly surprised by her willingness to take on such a mundane responsibility.

  "An inventory, you say?" Hrothgar nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that's certainly a task of great importance. Perhaps we should discuss exactly what Brandr needs and how we might go about obtaining that information."

  Astrid hesitated, realizing her lack of preparation. "I... I don't know what's needed," she admitted. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she said, "I was hoping you would be able to tell me."

  Hrothgar's expression softened, a hint of approval in his eyes at her honesty. "Not to worry, child. Let's approach this step by step. What do you think we'd need for a battle?"

  Astrid's brow furrowed in concentration. The room seemed to grow quieter as she pondered, the only sound the gentle scratching of Hrothgar's quill on parchment. "Well, warriors, of course," she began hesitantly. "And their weapons and armor."

  Hrothgar nodded encouragingly, his eyes twinkling. "Good start. What else?"

  Astrid bit her lip, her gaze wandering to the assortment of objects in the room for inspiration. Suddenly, she remembered discussions from the Thing. "Oh! Medical supplies and healers," she added with growing confidence. "And timber for ship repairs."

  "Excellent," Hrothgar praised, leaning back in his chair. The wood creaked softly under his movement. "You're thinking beyond the immediate needs of battle. That's crucial for proper planning."

  He paused, allowing Astrid a moment to absorb his words. The air in the room felt thick with potential knowledge. "Now, how would you go about counting all of these things?"

  Astrid's initial excitement faltered as she considered the enormity of the task. "I... I'm not sure," she admitted, her voice smaller than before. "It seems like it would take days to count everything."

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  Hrothgar's eyes gleamed with approval at her realization. "Indeed it would. And in times of war preparation, do we have days to spare on such a task?"

  "No, I suppose we don't," Astrid said, her face falling slightly as she grasped the impracticality of her initial thought.

  "So, young Astrid," Hrothgar continued, his tone gentle but prodding, "what might be a more efficient way to gather this information?"

  Astrid wrinkled her brow, clearly at a loss. "I... I'm not sure," she said, her voice tinged with frustration at her own lack of knowledge.

  Hrothgar nodded, his expression kind. "Not to worry, child. You see, I've been keeping meticulous records of all our supplies. We only need to update them periodically."

  He reached for a stack of wooden tablets on his desk. "In fact, when I heard rumors of Gunnar's movements around Skogstrand, I took it upon myself to conduct a thorough update of our inventory. I've been working closely with Kjell to prepare for this battle."

  "Kjell?" Astrid asked, her curiosity piqued. "Do you mean Brandr's uncle?"

  Hrothgar nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "The very same. As Stallari, he's been instrumental in our preparations."

  His eyes took on a distant look, as if peering into the past. "You know, Kjell and I grew up together," Hrothgar said, his voice softening with reminiscence. "We were both fostered with our uncle, a respected warrior and chieftain to the north, when we were boys about your age. Those were different times..."

  Astrid listened intently, fascinated by this glimpse into the intertwined histories of Fjell?rn's leadership. The concept of fostering was familiar to her, but she'd never considered how it might have shaped the relationships of those now in power.

  Hrothgar's keen eyes caught the glimmer of curiosity in Astrid's gaze. He could see her internal struggle, trying to focus on the inventory task while burning with questions about how he and Kjell were raised together.

  With a gentle smile, he decided to indulge her unspoken interest. "You're wondering about fostering customs, aren't you?" he asked, his tone warm and inviting.

  Astrid nodded, relieved that she didn't have to ask.

  "It's a practice deeply rooted in our traditions," Hrothgar explained. "In our case, both Kjell and I were sent to learn skills that would complement each other and serve the clan. I was trained in household and village management strategies, while Kjell focused on military tactics."

  He paused, allowing Astrid to absorb the information. "You see, we knew from a young age that we would serve Magnus as he was raised to lead the clan under his father's guidance. Much like Brandr is doing today."

  "But who will serve Brandr?" Astrid asked, her brow furrowed in thought. "You and Kjell were raised alongside Magnus, but Brandr has no siblings besides Rannveig." She hesitated, then added, "Though Rannveig has a keen mind for strategy."

  Hrothgar's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Indeed she does. But Kjell's sons, Halfdan and Finn, are being fostered in the north, learning the skills they'll need to serve the next generation. And there are other promising young warriors being trained." He paused thoughtfully. "Sometimes the most loyal Stallari comes not from family, but from a warrior who has sworn sacred oaths to serve a jarl and his children. Such bonds can be as strong as blood."

  His gaze drifted to a faded banner hanging on the wall. He gestured towards it, and Astrid's gaze followed.

  "See that banner?" he asked. "It's been there for many years. It commemorates Kjell's and my first battle alongside Magnus when we were young men, far in the eastern regions."

  Astrid leaned forward, studying the weathered fabric with curiosity.

  "That campaign taught us how our different skills could work together," Hrothgar continued, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Kjell's military acumen combined with my logistical planning... it became the foundation of many victories to come."

  He turned back to Astrid. "So you see, fostering isn't just about learning skills. It's about forging bonds that last a lifetime, bonds that strengthen the entire clan."

  Hrothgar studied Astrid's rapt expression. "Perhaps you'd like to learn more about alliance-building strategies sometime? It's a crucial skill for future leaders."

  Astrid nodded vigorously, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. The prospect of such knowledge thrilled her, and she found herself eager to learn more about the intricacies of clan politics.

  Hrothgar smiled, pleased by her interest. "Very well. In fact, we're about to discuss another powerful way to forge alliances – providing aid in times of need."

  He turned his attention back to the wooden tablets on his desk. "Kjell and I have been meticulously preparing for both the battle and its aftermath. This includes planning the resources needed for rebuilding efforts."

  Selecting a tablet, he held it up for Astrid to see. "Just this morning, I cross-referenced our current supplies with those promised at the Thing. We've compared them to our projected needs, taking into account the number of warriors, time at sea, and resources required for rebuilding."

  Astrid leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "Rebuilding?" she asked, the word catching her off guard. Until now, her thoughts had been consumed by the immediate threat to her family and village. The idea of what came after hadn't crossed her mind.

  Hrothgar raised an eyebrow. "Of course. You didn't think we'd just fight and sail away, did you?"

  Astrid shook her head slowly, realizing how shortsighted she'd been. "I... I hadn't thought that far ahead," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Hrothgar's expression softened, but his tone grew more serious. "Tell me, child, what do you expect to see when you return to your former home? After Gunnar has occupied it?"

  The question hit Astrid like a blow to the chest. Images flooded her mind - the village's winter stores depleted as warriors hid in the mountains, fields left unharvested, fishing boats possibly destroyed. How would her people survive the harsh northern winter if they spent the summer fighting instead of preparing? Her silence spoke volumes as the brutal reality of war's consequences settled over her.

  "War leaves scars, Astrid," Hrothgar continued gently. "Homes destroyed, fields trampled, resources depleted. The battle is only the beginning. The real challenge often lies in rebuilding what was lost."

  He reached for a well-worn wooden tablet, its edges smooth from years of handling. "For the past week, I've been calculating what Skogstrand will need to survive the winter and early summer, until their own crops can be harvested again."

  Hrothgar paused, his eyes meeting Astrid's. "But this aid serves a greater purpose beyond mere charity. By supporting Skogstrand in its time of need, we forge a lasting alliance. Such assistance builds trust and loyalty between clans, often more effectively than any formal agreement. It's a powerful strategy in clan politics, one that creates bonds that can last for generations."

  Astrid leaned in, her eyes widening as she took in the columns of marks and diagrams. "This is incredible," she said, a lump forming in her throat as the reality of her village's situation sank in.

  Hrothgar nodded solemnly. "We're estimating food, building materials, seed for planting, and even livestock to replace what might be lost. It's a substantial undertaking."

  As Astrid absorbed this information, a wave of emotion washed over her. She realized the enormity of what Magnus was offering - not just aid in battle, but the very survival of her people. The thought of what might have happened if Magnus had chosen not to help her father left her feeling both grateful and overwhelmed.

  "I... I had no idea," Astrid whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She took a deep breath, composing herself. "What can I do to help?"

  Hrothgar smiled, pleased by her eagerness. "While our inventory for the battle and immediate aftermath is complete, my knowledge of Skogstrand is lacking. I haven't been there since I was a boy, and even then it was for a short trade with my kinsmen. Your knowledge of your home will be invaluable."

  He leaned forward, etching tool ready above a fresh tablet. "Let's start with the basics. How much farmland does Skogstrand have?"

  Astrid considered for a moment, recalling her home. "Well, Skogstrand doesn't have a lot of farmlands," she began, her voice growing more confident as she spoke. "We have some fields, but they're not extensive. Many families keep livestock though - goats, chickens, that sort of thing."

  She paused, then continued, "A lot of our food comes from fishing. The sea is generous to us, and we have skilled fishermen. And of course, we hunt in the forests. Game is plentiful, especially in autumn."

  Hrothgar nodded, his eyes thoughtful as he absorbed this information. "This is very informative, Astrid," he said, stroking his beard. "It paints a clearer picture of Skogstrand's resources and how they might be affected by Gunnar's occupation."

  He made a few quick marks on the tablet. "A village that relies heavily on fishing and hunting will face different challenges in rebuilding than one that depends primarily on crops. This will help us better prepare for the aid Skogstrand might need."

  As Astrid described her village, memories of home washed over her - the familiar paths to the fishing docks, the smokehouses where her father's men prepared winter stores, the forests where she and Sigrida had plotted their escape. Her voice grew quieter, fingers twisting in her lap.

  Hrothgar set down his etching tool, noting her distress. "Is something troubling you, child?"

  When Astrid only fidgeted in response, he asked gently, "Why did Brandr send you here?"

  Astrid hesitated. "He was very busy with preparations..." she began, then faltered. "I... I wanted to help," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Hrothgar waited patiently, sensing there was more.

  Astrid's shoulders fell slightly. "I made mistakes," she said, her words coming out in a rush. "Poor choices that led to..."

  She trailed off, and Hrothgar remained silent, giving her space to continue.

  Finally, Astrid looked up, eyes glistening. "If I had kept the marriage pact to Einar, instead of running away, Gunnar would have never attacked. It's my fault that my family is in danger and that Magnus' clan is going to war. And now..." Her voice broke. "Brandr is preparing for battle. Sigrida, Rannveig, and Erik are risking their lives to deliver terms to my father. And I'm just... sitting here. Useless."

  Hrothgar leaned forward, his expression compassionate but firm. "Astrid, your desire to make amends is commendable. But you must understand that you couldn't have predicted Gunnar's actions. Men like him often find reasons for war, pact or no pact."

  He gestured to the tablets before them. "And you are far from useless. The knowledge you're providing about Skogstrand is crucial. It will help us save lives, rebuild homes, and restore your people's way of life. This work, though it may seem less dramatic than battle preparations, is equally vital."

  Hrothgar's eyes crinkled with warmth. "Perhaps the Norns had other plans for you. They weave our fates in ways we cannot always understand. Even Odin himself, with all his knowledge, cannot always foresee the twists and turns of destiny."

  His words seemed to lift a small burden from Astrid's shoulders. She nodded, her voice stronger now. "I love my family and my people. I want to help them, to make things right."

  "Your heart is in the right place, Astrid," Hrothgar affirmed. "And your efforts here will have far-reaching effects. The more you can tell me about Skogstrand, the better we can prepare for its future.

  As the afternoon wore on, Astrid found herself animatedly describing Skogstrand to Hrothgar. She spoke of the families that had lived there for generations, the rich history of the village, and the unique customs that shaped their way of life. Her eyes lit up as she recounted tales of festivals, hunting traditions, and the deep connection her people had with the sea.

  As she talked, Astrid's gaze occasionally wandered to the fascinating objects surrounding them. Ancient rune stones caught the fading sunlight, casting mysterious shadows across the room. Intricate maps and charts adorned the walls, hinting at distant lands and untold adventures. Each item seemed to hold a story, much like the man before her.

  Hrothgar listened intently, his etching tool occasionally scratching against a tablet as he made notes. He asked thoughtful questions, drawing out details that Astrid hadn't even realized might be important. When he reached for different tools or references, Astrid marveled at the fluid grace with which he navigated his cluttered yet organized space.

  As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, both the chieftain's daughter and the seasoned steward were surprised to find how quickly time had passed. Astrid felt a surge of satisfaction as she gazed at the tablets filled with information about her home. Here, finally, was a way she could protect her family - not with a sword or shield, but with knowledge that would help them rebuild after the battle. The room that had once seemed intimidating now felt like a workshop where she could forge a different kind of strength.