Frida

Chapter 25 - White Fingers

Frida had her eyes closed most of the time as she was being sailed to Kattegat's harbor.

She was sitting on a grand stool that had been placed in the middle of the boat, which was covered in many different kinds of flowers of the early fall, making the boat seem almost fairytale like with the high snake heads towering up both at the end and at the front of the boat. Frida herself was dressed in the most beautiful dress she had ever seen.

It was a very clean white with golden stitches over her chest that held many symbols, some she knew and some she did not, and over her shoulders she wore the great white wolf fur that she had received the night before. Helga had wanted her to put on many types of jewelry, but Frida had decided only to wear her own golden necklace, the pink stone falling elegantly over the fine silk beneath it.

Her hair had been soaked in perfumes, and the sweet fragrance lingered heavy in her nostrils even out here on the sea, though most of her hair had been braided. Helga had decorated it with many flowers, Frida recognized the purple ones to be Freyja's hair, and fine golden chains that were so pretty and thin Frida could have sworn that they were made by dwarves.

Her fingers had been dipped in a white liquid that Helga had not been able to explain to her what was, which had resulted in her finger tips completely colored white.

All in all, she felt very beautiful, all dressed in white and gold on her way to her wedding ceremony. But she too felt very nervous, anxious almost, as she dared to open her eyes and gaze on the harbor that was only coming closer and closer. Every fiber in her body was awake and stirring, every emotion her heart could produce pumped through her veins, and she wrapped her arms around her big stomach as she felt the baby stir around in there, joyfully.

When Frida saw the huge crowd of people gathered on the beach she quickly turned her eyes to Freke who was lying at her feet, waiting calmly.

She clasped her fingers around her necklace and whispered: "Frigg... Fill me with your calm, nurture my heart as I step into this marriage with Ragnar, let me be a good wife to him, and let never the bond we sow today rip. Please."

As the sound of the crowd on the beach grew louder, Frida watched as Freke sat up in the boat to see the oncoming harbor. Frida finally dared to lift her eyes too now, and she stared at the beach in amazement as she tried to count how many people were present.

But it was an impossible task, and she breathed out shakenly as she heard the rower behind her voice that she was to be ready for harboring.

The sound of music playing soon snaked its way into her ears, and she bit her lip when the edge of the boat touched the bridge. While keeping her eyes on the wooden planks of the bridge Frida climbed out of the boat, and she made a short whistling sound, ordering Freke to stay close to her. His light silver eyes rested on her face for a quick moment before they both turned to face the crowd before them.

Frida's legs felt heavy as she walked along the bridge, what seemed to be a thousand eyes were stuck on her figure, and she wished for nothing more than to be at Ragnar's side already. Her cheeks flushed red as the villagers sighed out when she passed them, and she heard them mumbling to each other that she looked like a goddess even, as she and Freke made their way across the sand.

Frida kept her eyes on the flower port that she knew was her destination.

Several villagers started cheering for her, compliments flying at her and warming her cheeks even more, and she kept reminding herself to breathe as panic started to travel over her skin.

And that was when she saw him.

He was standing only a few feet away from her at the flower port, his blue eyes glowing more than ever with a light that seemed not of this world, her favorite crooked smile curling his lips.