The heat from inside the tavern hit Angrboða so hard, she stumbled backwards upon entering the pubhouse. Had Thorsten been behind her, he would have caught and steadied her. However, he was leading the way carrying Bjornvin in his brawny arms while Angrboða followed with Kirsten holding her hand. After a moment, Angrboða acclimated quickly. She had forgotten what it felt like to be warm. Kirsten and Bjornvin had forgotten too and were grateful to be reminded.

As they warmed themselves by the fire in the seats Thorsten had cleared for them, they looked around in awe of their surroundings. None of them had ever visited a pub before. Where they came from, there was no public house to visit. The interior was made of wood with a thatched roof and on the walls were all manner of hooks for patrons to hang their overcoats, hats, and weaponry. A bright sign was posted behind the bar warning customers that “All Brawlers Will Be Forcibly Removed.” Angrboða hoped the sign’s warning would be sufficient to deter any ornery folk from fighting in front of women and children. She felt a tad uneasy that such a sign was needed at all.

However, Thorsten’s commanding presence gaver her all the assurance she needed. He set straight to work on warming Bjornvin’s feet gently and slowly so as not to damage the tissue in his tender road-weary feet. Angrboða had been skeptical when Thorseten said the boy would not lose his feet. She feared the wee one could become a cripple which would force him into a life of penury. But as the boy began to get feeling back into his toes, she breathed a sigh of relieve.

Angrboða was also struck by how gentle Thorsten was with the children, both in his manner as well as his way of speaking. Being this was their first time away from their small village, it was also the first time the children encountered someone they had not known since birth. They warmed to him quickly and soon they were fast asleep in his arms, one dangled on each knee. Bjornvin drooled a little onto Thorsten’s tunic, but the man didn’t seem to mind. Angrboða couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him and thought to herself what a father he would make one day.

Then without warning, a loud growl erupted from the depths of Angrboða’s bowels. She blushed with embarrassment. It had been days since their last meal and she the only thing keeping her away was the hunger pains eating away at her belly.

“In my satchel there are some gold and copper coins,” Thorsten said. “Take four of the coppers to the barmaid and ask her to bring us some supper.”

Angrboða looked at him gratefully and did as she was told. The thought of a hot meal already began to warm her from the inside out. The bar baid brought them biscuits, warm broth with carrots, cheese, and four meat pies. Angrboða couldn’t believe the bounty before them. At the smell of fresh food, the children awoke and eagerly tucked into their meal.

“Eat slowly,” Angrboða said as a warning that went unheeded. Having been hungry for so long the youngsters quickly became full, but that didn’t stop them from continuing to indulge in the meat pies and cheese. It had been more than a year since any of them had cheese and even longer still since any real meat had been placed upon their table. Angrboða looked up at Thorsten and saw he was not eating.

“Is something the matter,” she asked.

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m feeling full just watching you all gorge yourselves on the cheese and meat pies.”

“You must eat well working on a merchant’s ship,” she questioned.

“I certainly do,” Thorsten said. “My master makes sure his crew gets all they need to stay strong and work hard.”

“How very prudent of him,” Angrboða replied.

“He considers it a good investment,” Thorsten said with a wink.

Angrboða smiled warmly and slurped down some of the broth. Now that the immediate hunger pains were gone, she could savor more of the meal.

“Be sure to save some room for dessert,” Thorsten chided the children.

Kirsten and Bjornvin looked at each other with eager surprise. The word “dessert” hadn’t been uttered in their ears since the famine hit last year.

“Cook Kregathia makes some fine baked candied apples,” he said with a smile. “Sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, then baked in the oven until they are buttery soft and dripping with delectability.”

Angrboða was impressed at this young man’s vast vocabulary. She’d hardly known any ship workers, but he seemed particularly intelligent and educated. These traits only made him more attractive in her eyes.

Just then her father Dane walked into the pub looking even more weary than when they had parted at the gates.

“Daughter,” he exclaimed as a smile lit across his face. He opened his arms to embrace his eldest daughter and pulled her close to his chest. For a moment, it looked as if the man might collapse from exhaustion. Fortunately, Angrboða was feeling stronger than ever and she held him upright for the moment.

“It’s good to see you father,” Angrboða said. “What progress have you made today? Did you find work? Did you find shelter?”

“Give me a moment to catch my breath and partake of these vittles hereabouts,” Dane said taking a deep breath in through his nose as he savored the aromas of the tavern.

“Here,” Angrboða said. “Take some of my soup and a biscuit. There’s no way I’ll be able to eat it all and keep it down at the same time.”

“For half of yer meat pie, I’ll answer all the questions you have my dear,” he said.

Gladly, she shoved over what was left of the meat pie and he ate it heartily.

“Your first question has an answer. I made good progress today and did find both work and a place for us to shelter for a week or two,” Dane stated between mouthfuls of meat pie.

“That is wonderful news,” Angrboða said clapping her hands together with delight.

All this time, Thorsten sat quietly watching Angrboða and her father converse about their day. He also kept an eye on children, making sure they would not choke themselves on a morsel of meat or cheese. Every moment they spent together was another moment Thorsten found more things to love about Angrboða – the way her eyes shined when she got excited, how her hands gesticulated when she was holding onto something she had to say, and the lovely manner in which she leaned towards her conversation partner to convey her interest in what was being said. He could see the family resemblance between Angrboða’s father and the younger children, but it was less apparent between Dane and Angrboða herself. He had straight dark hair while hers was a reddish blonde colour with soft curls peeking out beneath her headscarf. Both their eyes were the same shade of blue – Thorsten could see that much similarity at least.

After they had exchanged stories about the day, Dane turned to Thorsten and said “Now who is this braw young lad who came to the aid of my three precious ones?”

“I am Thorsten of Turku,” he said with the same gallantry in his voice as he’d had earlier that day. “It is a developing seaport in the south of Finland. The city…”

“The city is connected to inland areas by the Hämeen Härkätie, the oldest road in the region,” Angrboða continued. “Thorsten began working in the port as a boy with his father and two brothers. Since then, he has come up in the world and has an aim to make something more of himself.”

He smiled at her, much please that she had been paying attention to his words at their introduction.

“Yes, that’s right,” Thorsten said.

“I know,” Angrboða said with a wry smile.

“Well, don’t you two already make quite the pair,” Dane teased. “When’s the wedding? I’ll have you know the girl comes with no dowry, but she has beauty enough as you can see.”

Angrboða blushed. She had never before heard her father speak of her as a “beauty,” nor had she ever heard him speak of her marriage to anyone – let alone someone they had only just met on the day.

“My eyes do see,” Thorsten said respectfully. “My eyes see that she has hands that have known hard work, feet that have known a difficult journey, and shoulders that bear the weight of loving two vulnerable little humans whom she bore on her own back to a new city.”

“Aye, that she has,” Dane nodded looking at his daughter with admiration at her pluck and courage.

“Father,” Angrboða’s blush grew deeper. “I am not accustomed to such praise.”

“Then I will make you so accustomed,” Thorsten said looking deep into her eyes. “I make you this vow to tell you every day the beauty I see in you.”

“So let me ask again,” Dane began. “When is the wedding and where shall we have the feast?”

The three of them broke out into a peal of laughter. With bellies full of nourishment, feet warmed by the fire, and hearts comforted by fellowship, everyone at the table felt a deep sense of contentment. When the barmaid came to clear away the bowls and plates, not a crumb had been spared. The children both had fallen asleep right at the table.

“Oh Thorsten,” Angrboða exclaimed. “I don’t think you got anything to eat at all.”

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” he said. “Your dulcet beauty is all the sustenance I require on this night.”

“Surely, you can’t be serious,” she decried.

“Well, if the lady insists there is one more thing I can think of that would give me a sense of satisfaction,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“What is it,” she said with curiosity.

“If your father allows it, I would very much like to walk with you through the village square,” he said. “The townsfolk light up a pathway around the city in celebration of yuletide. At the end of the pathway is a bonfire and some of the vendors serve baked goods and warm drinks.”

Angrboða looked at her father with an expression that seemed to say “refuse this man’s request and you will have your suppers bedeviled for a month.”

Dane understood the meaning of that look and simply nodded his head and waved them off.

“Don’t worry about these two,” he called after them. “I’ll get them upstairs to bed and tucked in on my own. You young folk have fun enjoying the merriments of the season.”

Thorsten offered Angrboða his arm as escort, which she took with great delight. Together they walked from the tavern arm in arm with only eyes for each other.