when Halfdan the Black finds love in an unexpected being, and when he goes against the odds of all his people. the gods are with him, just as they are with his brother, and with the power they give him- he won't let his life, or his love, go to wast...
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Yet another nightmare stole him from his sleep, his much needed slumber taken away by the haunting eyes of that one beautiful woman. So beautiful that she merely took his breath away in both his dream and in his reality.
Halfdan sharply sat up upon the makeshift bed made of pelts, furs and straw, reaching up to swipe his wiry blond hair from his tired, droopy eyes.
As he sat up, chest heaving with sweat resting on his brow, he could still see those cold blue eyes. They pierced through him, invaded his mind, stabbed his soul. He roughly shook his head to shake her of his thoughts, but he couldn't.
She remained there, and he couldn't do anything about it. Halfdan dropped his head in his hands, trying something to calm his racing heart, but nothing seemed to work. He tried keeping his eyes open, but they closed on their own accord, and he tried to find peace behind his eyelids, but they only flashed with the memories of her instead.
The woman rode upon the back of a monstrous beast, her sword in hand as she ran through battle, slashing her weapon through countless warriors until she reached an open space. He could see blood splattered across her beautiful pale skin, he could see her once neatly done hair flowing freely behind her as she fought, and he could feel her icy gaze lay itself upon him before it suddenly turned warm.
And then his eyes snapped open again, abruptly standing up which caused his brother to stir in the bed beside him. But Halfdan didn't care, he didn't seem to notice either as he pulled his britches back up his muscular legs and brought his light blue tunic back over his head.
"Brother," Harald rasped, hidden beneath the fur pelts and quilted blankets as he squinted his eyes to see Halfdan by the entrance of their shared tent. "What is wrong?"
Halfdan didn't expect Harald to awake, not from the deep slumber he seemed to be in, and though he cares deeply for his brother and only wishes the best, he merely grunted in reply before seeing his way out.
Roughly swatting the tarp to the side, he stepped onto the wet soil, continuing on into the night with nothing but himself and a small knife. No boots, no fur cloak, no animal pelts— just his thin wool tunic and britches. He walked beyond the camp, passing by guards and fire lit torches, seeing countless men with mead as others lay dead asleep on the ground by the tables, but he didn't bother stopping. He just kept going, the thought of stopping making him inwardly wince.
Halfdan didn't know what he was going to, or what he was looking for, or if he was even searching for anything, but he never stopped walking. Not until he got the the top of a high hill where he could see the sea in the distance, the waves softly crashing against the shore, the wind tunneling through the air as it kept him cool and content.
He was completely alone but he felt something with him, he felt it deep in his bones, ridden within his soul that dreamed of the days where he could journey and venture the unknown, where he didn't live a life cast by his brother's shadow.
