The Valkyries by E.F. Benson

Thus the wild storm of the ride of the Valkyries passed away. Like smoke they were borne away on the wings of the tempest, and a windless calm fell round about the place where Wotan and Brunnhilde abode on the mountain-top. The sun was already set, though still to westwards there lingered the reflected fires of its setting, and star by star came out in the deepening vault of blue overhead, until all heaven was spangled with their burning and grew bright at eventide. Eastward rose the moon at its fullest, to climb its silent and appointed journey over the firmament, and shone with a light exceeding bright and clear as running water. In the brake the chorus of birds was hushed, and over hill and valley spread and deepened the spring night. Such a night indeed it was as that on which, but one sunset ago, had Siegmund come to the house of Hunding-through the storms which day-long had lashed the hillsides; and now, even as then, the storm was hushed, and deep peace lay over the earth.

Yet swiftly the finger of fate had written, and swift had been the accomplishment of that decree, for lover lay dead and husband also, while through the gloomy forest hurried Sieglinde eastwards, to shield that which lay within her from the wrath of Wotan. And she, Brunnhilde, that had befriended the lover and his beloved, lay very still at the feet of her father making a darkness for her eyes, for on her head had the wrath come, and stern and terrible was her punishment. For lightly had she recked of his godhead and his holy behest, and by the maiden of his will had his will been betrayed; thus she was will-maiden to him no longer, and should wayfarer hap on her, not maid but woman, for so had the word gone forth from Wotan's mouth. Long time then sat the god there motionless with the crouched figure of her he loved at his feet, but at the last she raised her head, and essayed to meet the eyes that met not hers, and slowly she spoke.