DIVINE [HVITSERK RAGNARSSON]

21: VALHALLA

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE — 'VALHALLA'

She survived the night.

Four days, she had survived now. But she was still faltering. They needed a blessing from each of the Gods themselves if she was to truly recover. It was like a plague had overtaken her body, entering into her wounds and calling them home. Hvitserk had not left her side. His brothers and their most trusted men had been delegating on taking York, but he refused to join. Not until she recovered.

Asta winced now, her body awakening itself from the burning fever that was sizzling on her forehead. It had been getting worse since that morning. Opening her eyes, she sniffed as she turned her head ever so slightly to Hvitserk at the other end of the tent. He was wearing a loose, white shirt and dark breeches instead of his usual fighting leathers. His head flicked to face her as he heard her sniffling and he rushed to her side.
"Asta," he breathed as he knelt beside the bed that Asta was laid on. "Here." He aided her as she attempted to sit up slightly. Every thing hurt as she moved, pain searing through every joint in her body.

Once he'd helped her to sit up, Hvitserk grabbed a drinking horn from the small table beside the bed and left the tent to fill it up with water. Asta considered then, as she sat alone - did people see her as a traitor? She hadn't had a chance to explain herself since she'd been back.
"Drink." Hvitserk said as he returned to the tent, interrupting Asta's thoughts. He knelt again, holding the horn carefully as he helped Asta tilt it to her lips and take small sips.
"Hvitserk, I—" she coughed slightly as she swallowed the water. "I did not betray you, when they took me."
"I know. Asta, you don't have to explain—"
"Yes, I do. I will not have my people consider me a traitor. They wanted information, but I did not give it to them."
Hvitserk sighed. "Look at you. Look at what they did to you. I know you did not put up without a fight." A small smirk appeared on his lips and Asta let out a small chuckle, although it hurt her ribs.
"Of course not. I have a family I had to get back to." She agreed with him along with a small smile. A shy smile swept across Hvitserk's face and he looked down sheepishly. "And you." Asta giggled.

It was nice for Hvitserk to see her smiling. In the days since she had returned, she was not herself. The odd time that she was actually awake, she was quiet and intent, staring ahead for hours and muttering about the pain. How she couldn't handle it any longer. How she couldn't beg anymore. She would awaken from her sleep in terrible fits and cries - nightmares of her torture interrupting her rest. Hvitserk, and her brothers, would be at her side every time reassuring her it wasn't real and that she was safe.

Arvid and Erik burst into the room then, Arvid running his hands through his hair and breathing out a sigh of relief.
"Thank the gods." He muttered as he rushed to his sister's side and took a hold of her bony hand.
"I'm okay." She almost giggled at his protectiveness. She didn't want to mention that her fever was growing hotter, the pains in her chest were only getting worse and the life inside of her was slowly fading away.
"No, no. This is not okay." He breathed. "We want to take York. Messengers word suggests the Earl and that bastard Bishop are holed up there. They heard we have not left their shores, but they think you are dead."
Erik moved closer to his siblings in the tent. "And when we take it, we'll kill those bastards. You'll kill them."