Be Still

“Father, I’m afraid to die.”

“Oh, Ása, why are you thinking of such things? Death is a long way off yet.”

“But I will die, won’t I? I don’t want to die. I want to play with you and Mother and Bard forever.”

“But daughter, I will die. And so will Mother and Bard. Everything dies. And when the time comes, kind Thyra or stern Stigr will come take you away.”

“Aelfs don’t die.” 

“Well–”

“And what if Thyra or Stigr don’t come?”

“Ása.”

“But Father, did you see Thyra when grandfather passed? Or Stigr in battle? How do you know they will come?”

“I don’t, Ása. I don’t. I’ve never seen aelfs and I’ve never seen Thyra or Stigr. I cannot promise you they will come. No one knows what lies ahead. Do not fear the end, my daughter. You are still wild and young.  I’ve seen you in the fields with Bard and Aulay. I think you are fearless. No matter where life takes you. You will rise in the morning with the sun and you will live. Be still, Ása, and close your eyes. Don’t worry about tomorrow. I will always be here. And when it’s time for me to pass, I will wait for you and hold your hand as we fade away.”

For a few moments Ása looked up at her father, then the tension left her face and she shut her eyes.

Balder rose from her bedside but stopped in the doorway. For many more minutes he watched Ása. Her breathing slowed as she passed into dreams. Balder rested two large thumbs in his belt as he pondered. Only Ása could make him prefer Thyra to Stigr.

 Sweet dreams Ása.