Typically Ásdís could care less how long the elders took to come to a decision. Typically she would be chatting away with her friends and companions, laughing and joking just as loudly as the rest, betting and needling and ultimately having a good time. Typically such things were of no consequence to Ásdís  and so it did not matter if the chieftain was swift with his proclamations or as slow and dragging as the oldest mule in the soggiest pasture. 

Today was not typical and as soon as Fjalfar set his cup down Ásdís  was leaning forward, her eyes keen, her lips pressed together tightly as a thrilling fear swept through her body. He would announce his reason for bringing them here. The Chieftain would speak and finally Ásdís  would know her place. 

Her eagerness to hear was not shared. Women, mothers and the likes, in the back bickered and bantered more, what did they care if it took a few more minutes for Fjalfar to be heard? And men also laughed and drank, oblivious to Ásdís’ plight. Only the young like herself were completely silent. 

In what seemed to be hours but could only be seconds the room came to some semblance of quiet. Quivering Ásdís  glanced to her father before feeling her eyes whipping to Fjalfar. Why did her father look so grim? Shouldn’t he be as expectant as she? 

This thought was quickly forgotten as the Chieftain finally opened his mouth to speak.