Mist & Moonlight

Chapter 21 | The Return to Kattegat

The crisp evening breeze rolled off the fjord, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea as Kattegat bustled with its usual activity. But the quiet hum of the town quickly turned to murmurs of disbelief when two familiar figures rode through the gates—Freydis, with Erik by her side. Her long fiery hair caught the light of the setting sun, and she rode with a quiet strength, her head held high despite the shock that painted the faces of those around her.

Word spread like wildfire, and soon enough, a crowd began to gather. At the heart of the commotion, the gates to the great hall opened, and Rorik, Meryna, and the rest of the family emerged. Their eyes widened with disbelief as Freydis dismounted and walked toward them, her expression both calm and tired.

Meryna stepped forward first, her hand pressed to her mouth in surprise. "Freydis," she breathed, her eyes filling with tears. "You've come home."

Rorik, standing beside her, was too stunned to speak at first, his sharp eyes darting between his daughter and Erik. The entire family stood in shock, unsure whether to embrace her or bombard her with questions.

Freydis simply nodded, her eyes locking with her mother's. "I've returned."

Before anyone could speak further, Meryna raised her hand, shushing the barrage of questions that were sure to come. "There will be time for questions later," she said, her voice firm but warm. "But tonight, we celebrate. Freydis has returned home, and that is all that matters for now."

Soon enough, preparations for a feast were underway. The long tables were filled with food, mead flowed freely, and the fires crackled warmly as the great hall came alive with laughter and music. It was as though the town had forgotten the strangeness of Freydis's sudden return, focusing instead on the joy of her presence.

Freydis sat at the high table beside her father, the weight of her journey still pressing on her shoulders, though the warmth of her family's welcome helped ease some of the burden. As the evening wore on, she leaned closer to Rorik, her voice quiet as the music filled the room.

"Father," she began, her tone serious, "there is something I need to tell you."

Rorik turned to her, his expression softening with concern. "What is it, Freydis?"

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what needed to be said. "Jarl Arlick is dead. Erik killed him, defending me."

The words hung in the air between them. Rorik's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening on his goblet as he processed the news. "Arlick laid hands on you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Freydis nodded, her gaze steady. "Yes. He was not the man I thought he was. Erik saved me."

Rorik's jaw clenched, fury simmering beneath the surface. "If I had known," he said, his voice dark, "I never would have allowed you to marry that man. No one lays a hand on my daughter."

Freydis placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's over now, Father. Erik protected me, and I'm safe."

Rorik took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging within him. "And what of the alliance with Ekkila?" he asked. "What does this mean for our future?"

"Princess Sigrid is Jarl now," Freydis explained. "She has promised to uphold the alliance. We are safe on that front."

Rorik nodded slowly, relief mingling with the anger that still lingered in his heart. But before he could respond, Freydis leaned in closer, her voice lowering even more. "There is something else, Father."

Rorik raised an eyebrow, sensing the weight of what she was about to say. "What is it?"

Freydis swallowed hard, knowing that this next revelation would change everything. "The child I am carrying... it is not Jarl Arlick's. It is Erik's."

For a moment, Rorik was silent, the shock of her words settling in. He turned his gaze toward Erik, who was sitting a few seats away, oblivious to the conversation happening between father and daughter.

Rorik's eyes darkened, and without a word, he rose from his seat. Freydis watched him march across the hall toward Erik, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Erik," Rorik said, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of those nearby. Erik looked up, surprised by the intensity of the Jarl's gaze. "You killed Jarl Arlick-
Defending her safety and honor. For that, I thank you. But there is something else we must address."

Erik stood, his eyes narrowing with confusion. "What is it, King Rorik?"

"My daughter tells me she is carrying your child," Rorik stated bluntly, his eyes never leaving Erik's. "Is this true?"

Erik's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Aye, it's true. You must know, I've always loved her."

Rorik stared at him for a long moment before speaking again, his voice firm but measured. "Good, then it's agreed. After her mourning period, you will marry her. My daughter will not raise a child outside of wedlock."

Erik stood straighter, a mixture of surprise and relief crossing his face. "I've wanted to marry her for a long time."

"Then it's settled," Rorik said, his tone final. "After the appropriate time, you will marry her."

Without waiting for a response, Rorik turned and walked back to the high table, leaving Erik standing there, stunned but resolute.

Freydis watched the exchange from her seat, her breath catching in her throat. When Rorik returned, he gave her a single nod, signaling that the conversation was over. Freydis caught Erik's eye from across the room, and he smiled at her, albeit cautiously. Freydis returned the smile, tight and relieved. The truth was out, and though it had been an awkward conversation, it was over.