DAMNED WITH YOUR WANT || Ivar Rangerson

000.

The moon was hidden, and clouds heavy, that night. Darkness had churned across the vast sky, and a thunder as deep as the souls tortured screams in hel had rolled out from the distance.

It was the hour of the wolf; and while the whole world slumbered, Lagertha, the famous shield-maiden screams ricocheted off the cold stone walls of the castle. The pain she felt came out in shriek, the guttural noise of pure agony ripping itself out from her lungs like a battle cry. The birth of her fist child, Bjørn, was child's play compared to her second.

She's was urged to push, and her body was almost ready to cave in in itself from exhaustion. The seers words echoed in her mind, 'You shall bare no more children.' No more children, so why was she in the midst of Labour now? Could the seer have been wrong? No, for he was never wrong. For sixteen long hours she had been labouring; and as each hour passed, she had settled deeper and deeper into dread.

The child was two moons too early.

And it made her think of of the seers lingering words. Her babe wasn't going to have its first breath, she knew that the moment her water broke. But still she feared that she was birthing no child, but a monster. A monster from the pits of Nelithium to hunt her down and all that she owned. For why else would she have been suffering so much pain? The gods were mad at her and cursed her with a demon for a babe, she was sure of it.

She felt a shiver go up her spine as a strike of thunder cracked down outside, the lighting illuminating the room for just a moment as it split the heavens open.

The roaring of the rain only got louder as Lagertha gave her one final push, teeth clenched and her face twisted into a snarl. She felt her muscles give way, and her body seemed to unravel its tenseness. But there was no squalling of a newborn babe.

There was only an eerie silence.

And thunder.

And rain.

She could see concern etched into the midwife's faces, who peered down with their faces pinched in distress.

"What is it?" Lagertha breathed, a sickening feeling beginning to creep into the woman's bones, "Let me see it!" She demanded in her native language, extending her arms out for her baby.

The midwife, though not understanding her demand, handed her the babe hesitantly, "A girl." She croaked.

The babe was slick with her mothers blood, and so small Lagertha that she might break.

When her daughter touched her skin she could feel the lifeless off of her. She was limp, and her lips nearly blue.

"Funny. I knew this would happen but still it doesn't ease this ache." The woman muttered, her voice barely a whisper. Her hand softly stroked the babes pale face.

"I was told she came to early, Lagertha." King Egcburt said, solemnly standing at the door way. He ordered the midwives to leave.

She glanced at him and looked down at the bundle in her arms. What would of been her second daughter. Her tiny hands, fragile fingers. Eyes that would never open to see the light of day. Just like her Gyda.

Exhaustion and grief began to crash over her in a tidal wave. She abundantly passed the babe off to it's father like it was a disease. 

"My sweet daughter, the world gained a precious thing on this night." King ecgburt whispered, placing a gentle kiss to her temple, "And so shall the heavens."

And as if god had pitied him, and his words breathed the very life into her, with one final crack of lightning and a rumble of thunder that seemed to shake the very caste, King Ecgburt felt the bundle in his grasp begin to squirm.