vikings, LA BELLE DAME

v

"I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan"

"How can you fix something that is already broken?"
La Belle Dame asked the King who was still grasping her arm, his hands large and scabbed at the knuckles.

"I can try."
He told her, something about her had changed Ragnar. She had messed with his emotions, making him feel things he truly thought he would never feel again; happiness. It may be superficial for now but it was something.

La Belle Dame raised an eyebrow as his eyes scanned the surroundings looking for a splatter of summer colour in the monochrome world.

"What bothers you?"
The maiden asked.

"The weather bothers me."
He told her as he spotted what he longed for; flowers. They were a pale and dainty white with petals delicately floating in the breeze. Ragnar watched as one swam down to the ground, getting caught in the wind and lifting before falling again.

"How would you change it?"
The women asked, she was not fond of winter. It reminded her of cold days when she only wanted Ragnar's warmth and not the fire that raged in whatever room he was in.

"I would stop the frost."
He led both of them out of the water.

"You cannot stop Ullir."
La Belle Dame spoke from experience. She had begged the God of Winter to look favourably on Ragnar, to bade the season away for his toughest year, instead he has pushed more snow upon Kattegat and a heavier heart on the maiden. But for now, La Belle Dame managed to melt the frost just for the King.

     "I would love to try, when I finally meet him."
     His resolve was there but he decided he would rather lie down a little longer with the women. He gently pushed her down with him onto the grass, the sound of her dress rustling was music to his ears. He had grown numb to it before as it meant Aslaug was near, Lagertha never wore such a thing.

     "Do not tempt fate Ragnar Lothbrok."
     She warned him, running her hands over the blades glistening with water droplets.

     The Viking sat down too quickly, his side Sharp in pain and he groaned. La Belle Dame started to rise to help him, but Ragnar stopped her with a simple turn of his hand. He turned away the help because he was a Viking; strong and stoic.

     "I think the Gods are tempting me up to Valhalla."
     He gave his signature smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes and gave off a slight aura of madness.

     The maiden wished to tell him the lengths the gods were going to keep Ragnar alive and the strength it took her to believe she was defying them.

Lying down far from his usual place by the water Ragnar turned to his front and propped himself on his elbows. Flowers lay all around him and the women, they smelled delicious; fresh and pure. His nose itched. The craving was back; he needed a high.

It was a feeling always at the back of his mind but as he picked a flower and smelled it, the addiction took control. The aroma of this certain flower was as sweet as bubbling honey, it couldn't satisfy him. He wanted spice; he needed burning fire.