It had been written that the daughter of Ragnar Lothbrok was taken to Valhalla as a young girl.
But what if the gods didn't take her? What if the gods spared her?
Gyda Ironside, the only daughter of Ragnar and Lagertha rejoins her family as a train...
"You really were just going to abandon me? Without even saying a word?"
"You insult and humiliate me. I have no choice but to leave you and divorce you!"
"I don't want you to go."
"It's fate."
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Our mother and fathers attention is turned to Bjorn and myself as we reach mothers cart that she flees upon. We are still as we catch our breaths from the running.
Looking up to my fathers face I see the realisation flash before his sight. I see his tense demeanour falter with the understanding of our presence. He knew what was happening.
Bjorn offers his arm around my shoulders and leads us closer to the cart. Mothers face is full of apprehension as we peer up to her seated on the cart.
"We have changed our minds. We are coming with you." Bjorn speaks up.
Finding the courage to look to my side, I am met with a face of despair. Father shuts his eyes as the tears crept away. His features curled up as if someone twisted a blade to his flesh.
He looks to mother now. Pleading was a better way to describe it. She would be the only person my father would ever beg to. Their love has always been great, all who knew them could vouch for it. Perhaps there was a time when she would surrender to him, but her front is strong and she holds firm her decision.
Slowly the hope drains from his eyes as his head falls down to look to us. His breath is loud as his chest trembles with suppressed sorrow. Bjorn and I are then pulled to his clutch.
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I buried my head to his side as all anguish crept into my mind. This was all so unfair. So wrong. It was also fathers doing, whether by choice or by fate. How could he expect mother to remain in Kattegat while his now pregnant mistress flaunts herself as lady of our house.
His lips are on my head. Breaking away from his side he slides each hands to rest against our faces. His lips curl to the side in a feigned manner.
"Look after your mother."
His veil of ease falls as he takes us both in with one last look. His lip quivers and he embraces us tight once more.
He pulls back suddenly. His hands are balled at his side as he looks to his feet, his tears gliding down his face. My body felt void of warmth with his sudden detachment but I knew it was all in the name of letting us go. He is rushed as he steps forth to pick Bjorn up and place him on the cart, he sits to mother side. He then lifts me to join, I take my place on mothers other side. Any words we wished to utter remained caught up in our throats as mother tugs the reins.
The horse pulls to cart away as Bjorn and I curl into mother's side. She looks ahead with a stoic face as we keep our eyes to father. It was like physically seeing a hearts beat slow down to nothing. His was now broken. It would grow hard and cold. All because of us. Of me.
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