Frida

Chapter 12 - Valkyrie

To her own great surprise, Frida actually enjoyed herself that evening.

She had talked a great deal with Bjørn, and Athelstan had joined them not long after dinner, and the three of them had just sat at a table, drinking ale and chatting. Frida had finally asked Athelstan if he would be interested in any way in teaching her Norse, and he had very eagerly agreed to it. Being able to speak Norse had for him, he told her, been essential in learning to adapt to the culture here in Kattegat. She looked very much forward to start her training.

Bjørn was surprisingly bad at speaking English for a guy who had gone raiding in England several times in his life and had lived with Athelstan as their household slave, which had come as a big surprise to Frida, but with Athelstan by her side, the three of them spoke freely. However, Frida still felt a certain sting in her heart, a growing impatience gnawing at her flesh when her mind wondered back to what had happened earlier at the Seer's. As she sat there between the two of them, she realized that she did not necessarily have to wait for Ragnar to ask questions.

So she filled both of the men's horns with ale, and smiled timidly at Bjørn, whose eyes were swimming because of all the malt in his blood, saying: "Bjørn, I'm really interested in your gods."

She saw him blink a couple of times at her, probably a bit taken aback at the sudden change of subject, before she continued, leaning closer to him. "I know that Odin is who you call the All-father, and that he is the gods of all the other gods. But I haven't gotten to know that much about the others... Who are they?"

She heard Athelstan chuckle sweetly, earning a hard look from Frida. She was hoping that Bjørn would reveal something to her that would make her understand her dream better, understand them better.

Bjørn shook his head with a curl on his lips. "I'm not really the best... to ask this," he struggled, his accent heavy, "But I can tell you, we have many gods. And they are alive, not," he nodded his head towards the sky, "like the Christian one. They are here, around us, in us. They can turn into animals, nature, or even dreams."

He raised his horn before chucking its contents down. Frida felt shivers on her skin, while Bjørn rose to his feet, announcing that he had to relieve himself. Just as Frida turned to Athelstan, a question for him already forming on her lips, his name was called out over from the long-table.

Frida looked over to see Ragnar waving him over while his eyes were on Frida's face. Athelstan rose to his feet, but Frida quickly took a hold of his hand before he started walking over there. "Please," she pleaded, "Don't leave me here alone."

Athelstan's eyes switched from her and to Ragnar. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon."

But he was not. After what felt like an hour's time, Frida still saw him sitting next to Ragnar, the king's arm swooped over his shoulder, keeping him in place. She was getting angry now.

What the Devil was Ragnar doing?! Why was he treating her like that, why did he make her feel so alienated, so alone?

She started biting her nail, swaying a bit from the ale pumping in her veins. She had to put an end to it.

While the musicians played a wild rhythm, she gained strength and finally got the courage to confront him. Ragnar did not look at her, obviously trying to avoid completely her presence in the room, but Frida did not mind. King or not, he was going to explain this to her. Now.

"King Ragnar Loðbrók, I demand to speak to you privately," she heard her voice flare out, anger dripping from its tone.

Frida saw him slowly turning his head up from his conversation with Athelstan to look at her, and her knuckles tightened.

"Now!" she spat, a seriousness to her voice that grave, it reminding her funnily enough of Floki.

An inept silence quickly spread around the closest Vikings around the table, all eyes on the couple at the end. Ragnar sent strange eyes to his fellow Norsemen before sighing out dramatically, like a child that is forced by his mother to go to bed.

Ragnar took long quick steps on his way to his bedroom, moving so fast that Frida could not keep up, and she suspected him for doing it on purpose. So the others would see her following him like a dog. She bit at the inside of her lip in anger.

When they both had entered Ragnar's bedroom, Frida slammed the door shut and turned to stare at him, trying her hardest to give a hard look that Floki could be proud of. To her dismay, Ragnar seemed indifferent to her straining though, his face rather calm and collected. She felt her blood boil over, and she walked over to him and pushed at his chest.

"You... You..." she tried, but she did not know how to express the feelings she felt raging in her heart.

She pushed him once more, but he did not budge even an inch. She was embarrassed when she felt tears swelling up in her eyes, and she screamed infuriatedly at him, punching him now as hard as she could.

He did not even blink at her blows. Frida did not know how to react to his behavior, she felt helpless, alien and betrayed. Her body collapsed, and she fell to her knees, sobbing loudly.

"Say what you need to say," Ragnar sighed above her.

Her heart was aching and tears were streaming down her face, all of her anger replaced by something worse.

Sorrow.

"Why did you bring me here? WHY did you take me on your stupid boat and row me over here, just to ignore me, exploit me, torment me? You make me feel so... alone!" she wailed out.

To her big surprise, she felt him kneel down beside her. She turned her face to his, letting him see how pained she was by his actions, but she was stunned when she saw his expression.

She was looking at a defeated face, a face of a man that was no king, no powerful and strong Viking, but a man who knew his weaknesses and was scared to admit them to anyone.

Ragnar let himself dump down on the floor, and he put his face between his hands. "My heart," he whispered very breathily, "is aching. I wish I could travel in time and let you stay with your family, in you land, and with your god. I wish," his voice cracked, "I wish only for you to be happy."

Frida's tears had stopped as she listened to his words.

He breathed.

"I did not like what I heard at the Seer's," he finally whispered.

Frida sank hard, her mouth suddenly dry like sand.

"I have brought you here for selfish reasons, and now..." She heard him whimper quietly, and she could not help herself from putting her hand on his shoulder.

And now, what? And now, WHAT?

Ragnar shook his head in his hands, and Frida bent over to have her face close to his. "I want to know," she whispered tenderly into his ear, "Whatever it is, I just want the truth."

Ragnar finally lifted his face to stare into her eyes. "The Seer told me that you are a gift for me. A support, so to speak," he explained in a trembling voice, "from the gods. Odin..."

His throat seemed to close itself, but she could see that he struggled greatly to tell her. The croaking of a raven sounded above them, as if it was flying right above the roof of the house.

He inhaled, as he stuttered: "I think... I think you are my valkyrie, Frida."