Farbauti watches his partner quietly, his silence much like the cold crystals that fall gently upon their heads and shoulders, kissing already frozen flesh. Laufey has been too quiet with these staggering months of war.Ā
āAs a little one, my dame would tell old stories of these mountains,ā Farbauti starts, waiting for Laufeyās response. When given none, he proceeds.Ā āFrom Ymir the world was created. From his blood the ocean, his bones the hills, hair the trees, brains the clouds, and from his skull came the heavens.Ā His blood runs in all children of ice. With one who holds so much strength, we must find ours...to overcome this destruction and reclaim our homeland.ā Laufey snorts, briefly glancing over to the broader male. Ā
āOur forces are dead and scattered. The casket stolen, and my power questioned by my people. Strength alone will not turn the tables in my favor.ā
āBut it will give us hope.ā
āHope? You honestly believe hope will save our people from the blades of the Aesir? That it will keep our young from succumbing to sleep during the darkness, nevertheless feed their starved frames! Hope is nothing.ā Farbauti steps down, despite his urge to say more. Laufeyās shoulders are squared, posture rigid and tense. Holding his breath, he steps closer, their shoulders barely touching.Ā
āHope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.ā From the corner of his eye, he sees a small smile grace the others thin lips.













