The Incursion Of The Nøkken

Chapter One, The Flaming Raven

Frida's arm ached and trembled after hauling her last bale of hay into the shed. The moon approached little by little, taunting her to return home. Erik Sigurds, the fisherman's only boy of four siblings had approached Frida with a linen satchel full of fish bones and otter skulls. "It is getting dark, can I take you home?" He asked.
" I see no reason for an act as such, I live only such distance from your own home," yawned Frida. Caught off guard by Frida's answer, Erik seasoned into a red face. In the attempt to cover his darkening cheek's Frida grasped onto both of his wrists, stopping him from doing so.
"There is no need to hide what has already been exposed," whispered Frida excitedly. "Come, do me the honor of walking you home."
Erik gently tugged his arms away from her, creeping them behind his blonde hair. He then flicked his blue eyes toward her face revealing a weak smile, "That won't be necessary."
Frida entered the wooden gates of the village, making her way to the front of her father's hall. The door bursted open as a naked lamb sprinted out with a drunken farmer close behind. Chief Arnhaldr (Frida's father), was in the prime of hosting his celebratory banquet to honor the success of the eastern plunder obtained from the assault on an opposing village right beneath Norway.
"Skål!" Praised the villagers within the hall, tilting their mead down their throats. Arnhaldr's closest companion Klog, approached him with a kitten in one hand and a spear in the other.
" God aften min ven, skal du drikke noget mere!" Cried Klog in intoxicated laughter.
" I have plenty drank, my good friend," said Arnhaldr as he removed the cat from Klog's beefy hand. "And it seems to me, you have as well." He included. Klog rolled his eyes as he poked the strands of his beard with the tip of the spear, clumsily retreating to the table of mead and pork shoulder.
Frida walked to the back of her father's chair, shaking his shoulders playfully."Gah, why if it isn't my very little raven, Frida." Laughed the chief.
"There is no honor in being such an animal," said the voice of a young woman. Frida turned to the lady which revealed to be the village völva. "Raven's are spirits of those who could not survive in the blizzard of Hel. They are enthralled by Odin's finger, and the only luxury they receive is the scraps of our fallen kind," she added. The völva wore a fur trimmed robe, with blue stitching on the sides. Frida's mouth expanded as the woman took out Frida's braids that had collected her blonde hair in a tail to begin with.
" Chieftain's daughter is it?" Questioned the woman. "Ah well, we have a lot to catch up on. Your father and I have troubling news that we best discuss in private."
Frida kept one eye on her father, noticing the deadly look he always had on hand.