Legendary

As you might expect, I didn't just magically become a valkyrie then and there. Odin proposed it, let me adjust to the idea, and then we had a conversation about what that would entail. "It is not a thing easily undone," he said warningly. I was attracted to the idea because it meant that I could return to Midgard periodically and it would give me something to do. The science I'd done in life wasn't used here, and my skills as a trainer were not in demand. The daily battle was boring, the occasional scrimmages with Frigga's team not much more challenging. And it also meant that I'd have varied duties and opportunities, which I found appealing. One of Odin's musicians recited sagas after dinner during the time I was deciding, and all the sagas had something to say about the valkyries, referencing them as shield-maidens, battle-maidens, wish-maidens (because they executed Odin's wishes) and mead-maidens (they served the Einherjar and poured the first round at dinner). Although their principle function was to select the newly dead heroes who had earned a place in Valhalla, often they could do what they wanted, including interacting with mortals and taking lovers, although Odin specifically prohibited his valkyries from contacting those they'd known in life.

Odin mentioned that as a valkyrie I could visit Sif and take up training Magni again, as well as any other children Sif and Thor might have, and he introduced me to one of the newer valkyries, Bodil (which meant 'battle will cure'). She and I talked by ourselves; she was friendly and easy-going. She said that the valkyries tended to specialize in their duties; the oldest, most traditional ones (they were all former Asgardians) performing the duties as mead-maidens and wish-maidens, the newer ones (who included Midgardians and the few from other parts of the Nine Realms) were the ones going out to reap the battlefields. "My name's actually Carol," she said, leaning back against a tree. We'd been walking through the woods and took a break by a pretty little lake. "Odin gives us a valkyrie name for official business, but when we're not in our guise, we can use our mortal names if we want; we newer ones do, the older ones don't. But then, the oldest ones are from Asgard or the time that the gods were on Midgard, and their names are the same for both aspects. It's just us with non-Norse names who get a valkyrie name. You'll get one too if you decide to accept his offer."

"One thing that's been bothering me," I said, frowning. "When I was killed and was trying to get a handle on what had just happened" Carol nodded understandingly "it seemed like there was a bunch of other people who were doing the same thing as the valkyries."

"They were," she said immediately. "They were avatars for other gods in other pantheons. Everybody seems to be seeking different qualities in their dead." I snorted a laugh at that, and she smiled. "Most religions have some conception of the end of the world and they also want to stockpile people for their side. If you decide to accept Odin's offer, you'll get to know some of them. Some are more friendly than others, and you'll keep bumping into them." Then we talked about practicalities; valkyries have quarters in the woods away from Valhalla, but not all of them live there. Some of them have relationships with others in Valhalla and others just like other quarters more, so I could stay in my room if I wanted, and I would; it's a nice place, spacious and private. "If you're on battlefield patrol, you have a choice between riding a winged horse or flying the Einherjar back yourself. Most of us use the horses because if it's a big battle, you tire quickly if it's just you doing the transport and all. We all get the cloak of swan feathers, though; it's emblematic of the office and much easier to deal with in the mortal world than a horse. There's no daily uniform, but if you're being official, you have a narrow range of options. There's kind of a baggy white dress and you can wear it with armor. And the cloak, if you're not on horseback. Otherwise, you get to wear what you want, and Odin will assign your duties, which might include acting as his messenger or bodyguard, if he's feeling the need to be impressive. We also have our contributions to make to the community in the form of weaving. It's good practice, and it also allows us to have items for barter. And when Ragnarok comes, we'll fight by his side, the first of his host." We talked for several hours, and that night, after dinner, Odin summoned me for a chat.

He asked if I had questions, and I did, about the specific duties he had in mind for me. "You would be tasked with selecting the slain on the battlefield. Frigga uses the valkyries for that purpose as well" ( he smiled slightly as I hastily tried to smooth away my scowl. I hadn't forgiven her yet for making me suffer when she'd gutted me on the battlefield). "I have a mind to assign you to train the descendants of my son Thor, that they become mighty warriors and eligible to be raised to Valhalla in their time. The valkyries also have their own labor for the residents of Valhalla; they produce the cloth we use. Aside from these tasks, your time would be your own and you could spend it as you choose."

I said yes, of course. Odin smiled austerely and gave me the name Thyra, "like thunder." Then he dismissed me, saying that I could start learning my duties the next day.

The next day I skipped lunch in the hall and took a tray over to Tony's workshop instead. I slipped in and watched a moment; he was raising a metal hemisphere on a series of stakes. "What do you need?" he asked without turning around.

"Nothing, actually," I said, coming forward with the tray. He turned and smiled. "Didn't see you when I went in for lunch, so I thought I'd bring some over. You did promise me a tour at some point."

He sauntered over, wiping his hands on a rag, and took the tray from me. "This is new," he said, running a finger lightly over the swan feather cloak, turning it back to see the red wool lining.

"Just got it this morning," I said, shrugging it off and hanging it up carefully. It was nice and toasty in the workshop. "And since serving the Einherjar is one of the duties of the valkyries, I thought I'd give it a shot."

"I like it," he said, smirking, setting a stool at the table for me and pulling the covers off the dishes. As we ate, he asked me questions about why I had decided to take Odin up on his offer and what it was like so far.

"Well, it gives me something to do here. Battle is boring and I'm not very challenged, not contributing. He's assigned me to raise worthy warriors to Valhalla and also to train Thor's kids." Tony nodded. "You've probably noted that time doesn't run in parallel with mortal time." He nodded again, not interrupting me. "There's no direct relationship, it's not like a day here is worth five hours there or anything. They run independently of each other, and I'm learning the trick of inserting myself in the timestream on Earth at the right time and returning here without meeting myself. It's a lot of work."

"Can you go back in time on Earth and spend time with people again? Or go forward from where you're supposed to be? Would you do it if you could, maybe see your husband again?" he asked, serving me seconds.

"I think I'm supposed to be serving you," I said mildly, and he shook his head.

"My workshop, my hospitality."

"Ok," I said amiably. "I asked about that," I said, returning to his question. "It's possible, but prohibited, since if I went back, to be in a time with Damian again, just as an example, it's possible that I might cause things to turn out differently. I might not end up in Valhalla, and then there'd be some weird paradox. But apparently we can't stay in the mortal realm indefinitely anyway, so doing something like that would probably just hurt." I poked a potato with my fork. "When Damian was killed, I mourned, then got on with my life. There was never anybody else; no one I met after him could match his intelligence and vitality, and I simply refused to settle for somebody who was so much less." I shrugged, looking at him. "Now I'm in a new life, or the afterlife, whatever, and it's looking like it'll be a long time until the end of the world. The other Valkyries told me that everybody goes somewhere, unless they actively decide not to go on, so the vast majority of everyone who's ever lived is somewhere, under the aegis of some god or force, which means that Damian is out there too. So are my folks, and J, and your parents, too. Nobody knows where they are, it's not like we have a database or anything. The prevailing theory is that the end of the world means the end of everybody's world, and everyone chosen for the duty will do whatever it is that they're supposed to do-like we're supposed to fight. Nobody knows what will happen after, and it's possible that the separations in the afterlife will vanish and we'll mingle. So it's possible that I'll see everybody again, but not predictable. It's enough for me to know that he's most likely out there somewhere, and I hope he's happy. I don't want to be all doom and gloom through eternity, however that will pass, and I want to be happy too. So side trips into the past will just be counterproductive." He nodded.

"I like the idea of my parents existing somewhere, even if I never see them again," he said simply.

I nodded and changed the subject. "It's not an easy job, though. Before a battle, a team of valkyries warp a loom and weave, deciding who will die. They do it with a crap ton of magic and the entrails and bones of the fallen, but this happens before they've actually fallen, so: more weirdness." Tony's lip curled and I nodded. "It's apparently hard work, and then they have to go get all the worthy. But apparently then they don't have to do it for people who don't die in battle or for small skirmishes or whatever." I shook my head. "It's so weird."

"I'll say," Tony said, pouring small glasses of mead to conclude the meal.

"I can either fly myself around with my nifty new cape or I can take a flying horse. They told me that the horse is a lot easier, especially if you've had to participate in the weaving. So there's that. I'm not supposed to take part in the battles anymore until we find out more about how I can make people go elsewhere, so I have even less to do now. I mainly accepted so that I can do training again, and I look forward to spending some time with Sif."

"I was going to ask if you wanted to work here," Tony said. "But I can see why you'd want to do valkyrie things." He fiddled with his brass rat.

"I thought about asking if you needed any help," I said, touching his wrist. "But I'm not very good with old-school fabrication and I'm certainly not as creative as you are."

"You think you could give me a hand sometimes, though?" he asked, and I smiled.

"I'd like that," I said promptly. "It can be... kind of lonely here. And we worked pretty well together, before." His expression lightened.

"That we did," he said, and when I was done with my glass, put everything back on the tray.

"Can I ask why you're here and everybody else is in Folkvangr?" I asked a little tentatively.

"Not much of a secret," he said. "Over there is Emma and Rogers and Barnes, and around them I'm just a spare wheel. I loved Emma for a long time," he said, as if waiting for a reaction, but I waved him on. "She's smart and capable, lovely, funny and engaging and she never wanted my money or social position, but we never clicked like that. A lot of it was my fault, I'm not a very lovable person. Once I finally realized it would never happen, I let that go and moved on. Just didn't find anyone who fit what I needed, let alone wanted. Pepper, I wanted, but she couldn't accept Iron Man, and Con... we just weren't meant for the long haul." He huffed an unamused laugh. "So what's the point of being over there? I'd just be on the outside. They're...a very tightly knit trio, and nobody wants to feel that excluded on a regular basis. Pete's there, although he seems to spend most of his time alone. Over here I have a clean start. Sure, it's pretty much primitive tech, but I've always enjoyed a challenge."

"Your abilities are well-regarded here," I said to give him a boost. It was true, most of the Einherjar were in awe of the exceedingly clever creations he produced in his workshop. In the running count of the skirmishes between the two afterlives, Tony was now slightly ahead in wins. Those who weren't impressed either thought that our side didn't need that sort of trickery or they were a little jealous of his abilities and the respect that Odin accorded him. "I got a lot of questions about you from the valkyries when I said I'd worked with you before. You're kind of a man of mystery around Valhalla." He preened some and I was glad to be able to raise his spirits a little.

"So how did you die?" he asked finally, leaning back and looking at me. "How were things when you left?"

"It's kind of a long story, and you won't like some of it," I warned him. He flicked his hand in the old gesture he used to clear data from his computer screens back on Earth.

"Go on," he said. So I told him what had happened. Not long after Tony'd died, Peter had been killed as Spiderman, defending a family from some Skrull opportunists. His daughter took over as head of Stark Industries and the Avengers in her persona of Iron Paladin. It had gone along fairly well for awhile, but then there was some changes on the board of directors, with the new ones not as skilled as the older ones had been; they had managed to restrain May Parker before, but free of their restraint, she started a rather remarkable effort that drove the company into the ground quite efficiently. We'd fought a lot, she was so convinced that she knew what she was doing and refused any advice or help. And despite my lack of a formal MBA, I'd learned a ton about the realities of running a massive corporation from Tony, my father-in-law, and my husband. My daughter too. The terms of my position that Tony had drawn up all those years ago restricted my authority to the labs; success had depended, it turned out, on cooperation of me and the CEO working together with a common goal. It had worked during her father's tenure, but May had refused to take responsibility for her failures; she blamed others for them, usually me.

"Then the Mandarin teamed up with Ghost, and Iron Paladin led the Avengers against them." I shook my head. I still couldn't believe what had happened. "They roared right into a trap. Almost everybody was killed." I bit my lip and blinked a lot, making sure my voice was stable before I went on. "Only May and the current version of Captain America made it out, and Cap was still doing physical therapy when I died. You'd like Cap," I said, diverted. "She is the first woman to make it onto a Delta team, always got a joke in a crisis, led her team, earned the rank of Captain. She quit the military when her leg was blown off; obviously nobody can make prosthetics like Emma anymore, but we used the 3D tissue printer to make a bone scaffolding reinforced with metal ions and attached synthetic muscles and skin, so it's a very different approach. It was J's work," I said, still proud of him, then sobered again. "Serena was the field leader but May just bulldozed right over everybody when Serena got hit. They had a really good plan, but May fucked it up and..." I had to scrub away some tears. They weren't all from sorrow; no few of them were still pure rage. May had gotten all but one of my students killed, and many of my students had been my friends, including Kate Bishop, the Hawkeye who'd taken over for Clint, and Wanda. "So when Stark Tech became a lot less productive, there weren't funds to spare for the Avengers, and the US government footed the bill instead. They moved fast on that, held a court martial, found May culpable, kicked her off the team. Pietro sued her successfully for the wrongful death of his sister, who'd been on her last mission before retirement, was awarded a hefty settlement. The board of directors canned her too, but then they were up a creek. They put the company up for sale shortly thereafter." Tony growled. "It was to Wayne Enterprises. I urged my daughter to buy it, and she did. Put the two best directors on a new board, got rid of the rest, and she found a new CEO for the company, an MIT alumna. We've got another MIT alumnus running the labs." I looked at him, hoping he'd understand. "It was the best I could do, Tony. I used my status as majority shareholder to force the sale to Wayne because I knew if that happened, my daughter would pump money and resources back into Stark Industries and it would remain a going concern and retain its name. Roxxon and Hammer were also interested, but they'd have dismantled the company after plundering the intellectual property. I did the best I could, but I didn't have the authority. It wasn't enough. Martha was looking into transferring J's division, the enhanced/superhuman medical lab into Avenger Tech, so it kind of makes sense. It's not as horrible as it could have been."

I sighed. "One day when I was training Matt, the new hire, in how the labs were run because I was winding down to retirement, the sirens began to blare. There was a sneak attack by the Kree. Somehow they'd established a secret base the last time their armada was here." I looked down at my hands. "There were a lot of civilians in the streets. And this time we didn't have the Avengers. But the arsenal was still down in the basement; the government hadn't taken it out because they were trying to decide whether to recruit another Avenger team under Cap's leadership. There'd been basic training for everyone who wanted it, so I knew how to operate the antiaircraft battery, at least the fundamentals. So I went downstairs, loaded up, and went outside. There were permanent defensive fortifications, so I used one of them. I fired one of the big guns in the emplacement in the front of the building at the aircraft, and shot at the Kree I could see on the streets, using my swords on the ones that got too close. Until one of their fighters hit my position, I guess." I shrugged. Tony was still, and I knew he was processing the story, running it over in his mind.

I got up and left him to it. I took the tray with me; I had to go find Wayland.

The armor of a valkyrie apparently takes precedence over almost everything else, I found when I went to find the blacksmith. Wayland took precise measurements, very professionally, for the helmet and breastplate. None of the valkyries liked the idea of being at the mercy of men, even the Einherjer, so if you so much as touched a valkyrie in a way she didn't like, you have to deal with all of us piling on. It was an incredibly effective deterrent. Each valkyrie got a helmet, breastplate, shield, and a spear at the minimum, plus anything else they wanted. I was keeping my swords. The spear, the shield, and the cape were the emblems of the valkyries, although we didn't usually use the spears. When we went to harvest the glorious dead, we always carried at least the spear. They were mostly ceremonial for the time being, although we'd use them at Ragnarok. You could also ask for more pieces, like greaves or gauntlets, although most did not. Reginn had me choose the wood for the shaft of the spear from a huge variety they had on hand--they had the most beautiful piece of curly cherry that attracted me instantly and was a good size for my hand.

"This tree is associated with the element of fire," he said, and moved the spear shaft so the curly pattern caught the light. "It is sacred to women of the hunt and battle, and is imbued with the the power of making and doing, achievement, triumph over obstacles and critics. It conducts the forces of will and desire. The fruit is associated with sex and birth, life force, attraction. The flowers evoke eroticism and the power of love in all forms as well as springtime's renewal." He looked at me sideways. "It is a powerful and potent choice for one of the All-Father's valkyries. Its powers manifest themselves subtly and will strengthen the longer you use it." If we'd been on earth, I'd have taken that information as kind of woo-woo stuff, but here magic actually worked, and Reginn had been here long enough to know what he was talking about. He determined how long the shaft of my spear should be and cut it to length right there; he gave me the cut off and suggested that I have it carved into something or find a use for it since it was associated with my weapon. I asked about using it to replace the hilts of my swords, and he agreed to do that work too. He showed me several varieties of spearheads and wanted me to pick a style. I pointed out several styles I liked and asked if he'd make me one using those elements, and he puffed up a bit. Apparently I'd just added to his prestige by allowing him to make the design choice. He also measured for the dimensions of the shield. Almost everybody in Valhalla and Folkvangr used a round shield, although the details of their appearance varied widely.

I told Tony about that at dinner, and he was interested when I said that there were a lot of different styles that the smiths worked with. "We're accustomed to thinking of the Vikings, that particular style," I said, sipping water with my meal. "But they continued to explore different variations here in Valhalla, so there's more breadth to their designs beyond the knotwork and stylized animals we're accustomed to associating with them. And over time, the Einherjar brought whatever design aesthetic they favored in life, which is why you see a lot of Gothic elements on the swords, for example. Not much Baroque or Rococo, although Art Deco has a devoted following too."

Conversation stuttered a bit. He toyed with his glass before thanking me for telling him what had happened, to his company, the Avengers, and myself. "It couldn't have been easy," he said. "I know you couldn't have prevented any of it." He shook his head. "I thought May would grow out of her impulsiveness once she saw how heavy the responsibilities of leadership were, become a more mature leader. Obviously, I was wrong. I appreciate what you did to save it. And it must have been devastating to lose your students and friends like that." I didn't know what to say to that, so I just patted his arm and refilled his glass. "Now I know why you're here, a valkyrie," he said. "It was brave of you to man the gun, especially since you never trained much with the firearms. It wasn't your job, but you stepped up anyway and made a difference."

"Don't know how much of a difference I made," I said, sighing. "I really regret not having more training, but we always thought the Avengers would be around. And nobody thought that the aliens could make a secret base."

"Every ship you shot down was one less that could continue destroying the city and killing people. Same for the Kree you shot. You made a difference," he said firmly, squeezing my hand. It helped a little to hear that. Then he started to ask about his godchildren, and I was happy to tell him stories.

I slipped into a new routine easily; the valkyries usually didn't take part in the battles or skirmishes unless Odin directed us to. I was specifically forbidden to fight among the general populations in the afterlife until it was learned how I'd banished Frigga and Captain America to Hela's domain, but the valkyries battled each other to keep their skill sharp, and THAT was pitched fighting. It was awesome. I had to learn the use of the spear to the valkyries' standards, and I could use my swords too. It didn't matter if I popped one of them elsewhere, since they had the skill, knowledge, and ability to find themselves anywhere Heimdall could see and return through space and time. "Kind of like Doctor Who," Irene, a new valkyrie like myself, muttered during one practice. I grinned. Reginn had created a graceful, fluted spear for me in steel, with accents of the gold metal that the Asgardians favored, and reinforced the cherry shaft at intervals with pierced metal bands that let the pattern of the wood be visible while increasing its resistance to damage and splitting. The spear, shield, and armor were additionally engraved with flowers, vines, and leaves. The shield was also lined with cherry to provide a vibration-muffling layer and to diffuse the heat when it warmed up under the sun. The valkyries assured me that summer would come in time; seasons seemed to last longer in Valhalla than on Earth or in Folkvangr. I caught on quickly, and it was satisfying to be able to fight full-out, not having to hold back. We had a nice training ground in the center of a grove of trees, currently swept bare of snow.

Along with the fighting techniques--I had to learn to fight with a coordinated unit, too--I learned the ins and outs of valkyrie-ing on the battlefield, how to find the point in time where I was needed to claim a soul, how to open a window at that time, how to close it when I was done, and how to return to Valhalla. The special weaving could only be learned before a battle, so I was taught how to weave cloth in preparation. The valkyries had their own workshop where we produced the cloth for Valhalla, weaving wool, linen, and silk yardage, coarse and fine. We set up vast looms and took turns passing shuttles through the warp threads. There were smaller looms too, for the production of specialty fabrics or individual commissions or items for trade. I also learned to spin thread for the looms and yarn, although not many people knitted for some reason, mostly those of us who were recruited after, say, the Renaissance. It was faster to make my own clothes than to wait for one of the seamstresses to do it, so I picked up sewing again, although I hated doing the long seams by hand. It took a long time to do the seams with tight stitches, and longer stitches tore out easily.

I complained about that to Tony at dinner one night. Something had gone awry in his workshop that day, cutting great rents in the clothes he'd been wearing. I offered to fix those (I'd just learned how to reweave cuts in cloth) and he asked why there were no sewing machines. "I don't know, actually," I said, shrugging. "Maybe it's not traditional enough?" When I returned the mended clothing the next week, he had something for me. A treadle sewing machine. Beautiful. It was similar in size to one of the old Singers, but a completely different aesthetic, all carved and flowing metal, as if the set designers from Lord of the Rings had done a sewing machine.

"It needs needles, though," Tony said with a frown. "I can't make them fine enough with this equipment." I wore a new sweater to the next battle with Folkvangr under my swan cloak. This was the first skirmish we'd had with them since my promotion, and I needed to get everybody on both sides accustomed to my new status. If I didn't, I'd be attacked, and I couldn't fight back yet. Cowardice was probably the worst thing you could be accused of here. The valkyries always went to these battles to watch, and there was always the slim possibility that Odin'd have somebody step in if it looked like a feud was brewing or the fighting was getting too personal. We might be in two different afterlives, but ultimately we were all on the same side, and we all needed to more or less get along. I kept my eye out, and when it was wrapping up, I found my uncle with Emma. They were both surprised at my promotion; Emma was pleased for me, and Bucky couldn't be prouder. After I'd answered their questions, I produced a piece of yarn I'd spun and dyed, a wool/silk blend in a leaf green, and handed it to Emma.

"I need some needles, finer than what the smiths produce in Valhalla," I told her. "I'd be willing to trade yarn if you made me some." I produced the drawing with the dimensions that Tony had made for me, explaining my new sewing machine.

Emma laughed, fingering the yarn. "For this, I'll make pins for you too," she said immediately. She liked the green, and when I'd spun and dyed the yarn, I traipsed over to Folkvangr to deliver it. I didn't know if Emma had had the time to make the needles yet, but I wanted to hold up my side of the bargain, and besides, I wanted to see her reaction.

I found her and Bucky at her forge. She was thrilled; the yarn was soft and had a beautiful sheen. Emma handed over a little packet that contained twenty needles for the sewing machine, a hundred long, fine pins, and twenty hand-sewing needles of different sizes, all using her own alloys so they were thin, had good-sized eyes, and were highly resistant to breakage or bending. "That's a real bargain," she said, smoothing her hand over the skeins of yarn. "If you'd be willing to spin enough finer wool for a shawl, I'll triple those numbers." Ooh. With that many needles and pins, I'd be set. I agreed, and Bucky and I bargained for a chunky wool yarn in a different blue for a sweater for him. I wasn't sure what he was bargaining with, but he was my uncle so I trusted him. At that point, Captain America came in and sat by Emma. They were all cuddly and affectionate and very definitely a unit. I instantly understood why Tony preferred Valhalla. I immediately felt like an outsider myself.

I think Captain America felt a little left out when he saw the yarn and heard about the bargains. "Call me Steve," he said, but it felt a little awkward to me since I didn't know him at all and most of the time since I'd met him I'd been irritated with him. He asked what I'd like for enough yarn for a sweater for him. I'd have done it for free as a favor for my uncle, but he insisted on bargaining. He was mostly a general, but when he wasn't doing that, he was learning woodworking. He agreed to make some knitting needles for me, and I specified birch wood, having learned some of the lore of the trees from Reginn. Birch was associated with new beginnings, creativity, and renewal, all good qualities for a knitter. I took measurements while I was there; he too was restored to his prime, which meant that he was enormously muscled, and I wanted there to be enough yarn.

Spinning was easy and I did it after dinners; my spindle was highly portable and it didn't take a lot of concentration. It was easy to do when talking with Tony, although sometimes I found I'd stopped after listening to him describe a problem he'd encountered or something clever he'd done. I enjoyed his sharp wit. We usually stayed in the hall to enjoy the music after dinner and sometimes we joined in the dancing too. Occasionally we went to his workshop if there was something I could do to help. It didn't take long before the yarn was spun for all the projects I'd committed to. Emma had told me to surprise her with the color of her yarn, so I dyed it a rich dark red, and the yarn for Bucky was in a lighter blue that almost matched his eyes. Captain Rogers' was in a marled navy blue and white.

The next battle was at Folkvangr, so I took everything with me then. Emma loved the color of her yarn, and Bucky was pleased by his as well. He'd also taken up metalworking, but while Emma made alloys for him, they weren't the kinds only she could use, he worked them himself and had created for me a large pair of fabric shears and a smaller pair that I could use for fine work or embroidery. They were much better than what I could get in Valhalla, and I gave him a big hug. Emma had added an extra hundred pins to what we'd agreed on because she'd liked her yarn so much, being about halfway through her sweater. Captain Rogers was very pleased with his too, and handed over three sets of knitting needles, perfectly matched in diameter, and with nicely carved heads. He said immediately that the yarn was worth more, and pledged more sets. We negotiated a bit and I ended up with a promise to make a couple of sets of double pointed needles in sizes I'd use a lot.

A couple nights later, I went with Tony to his workshop to do some sewing while he worked; he had me keep the sewing machine there because there were a few kinks that had to be worked out, and then it was pleasant to work there with him doing his own thing too. When I got up to go, before the customary good night hugs, I handed him a sweater I'd made for him in a natural charcoal made from black wool. He seemed to like it.