Frida

Chapter 27 - Offerings for Freyr

When Ragnar had grabbed a fat goose and led her down past the leaved gate, Frida knew exactly where he was taking her.

And she felt her heart beating happily to the sound of their footsteps on the gravel beneath them as they made their way through the black forest, her eyes on the small light that was flickering from between the trees.

There was something very mysterious and strange about the meadow of sacrifice during the night, something inexplicably vivid and real about the air there that made the woods seem to be breathing around them, alive.

Frida stepped cautiously into the meadow and she eyed the tall wooden figures as if for the first time again, a warmth that had become very familiar to her ever since she had laid her eyes upon Ragnar for the first time glowing through her body. Ragnar led her straight through the circling figures over to the great rock that was placed in the middle of the meadow, and Frida widened her eyes when she saw all of the offerings there.

She had never seen the rock filled with such delights. Bowls and plates covered in food, jars and horns almost pouring over with wine, mead, and ale, flowers and herbs carefully gathered in between it all. All of it placed there for them, Ragnar and her, in a wish to thank the gods for everything they had done for them. For bringing them together despite the great sea that had divided them for so long.

Frida felt her heart swelling in her chest and tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. It was so beautiful, so natural, so real.

She let her hands sway over her big stomach, and whispered a silent thanks to her friends and family that had strained themselves this much to bring joy to her and Ragnar's life together.

It was overwhelming.

Frida watched Ragnar moving cautiously around the different figures, reaching his hands out to touch every single one of them, and he stopped only when he reached the statue of Freyr. Frida smiled sweetly as she watched her husband look up on the face of the figure, his hand reaching up to his chest, and he closed his eyes, a small smile curling his lips.

"Join me, love," he breathed into the silent night, and Frida calmly walked over to lay her hand on top of Ragnar's, both of them looking up at Freyr's face that was moving with shadows caused by the fire at the rock.

"Freyr," Frida whispered as she closed her eyes, the ambient of the forest heating her skin delicately, a soothing calm falling upon her as the tree tops swayed with the wind above them.

She heard Ragnar humming into her ear, and she felt him laying his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him and kissing her cheek lightly.

"Freyr, we have come here in the night to offer you a sacrifice. Please accept it as a thanks for all the riches you have rained upon us, upon me and my family." Ragnar let his arm drop down before he walked over to the great rock, returning with a small clay bowl and the goose.

Frida looked at the eyes of the goose, surprised that it did not make a single sound. As if it knew what its future held, as if it acknowledged it.

She raised her eyes to the statue when Ragnar slit its throat, and she heard the warm blood drip into the bowl, the goose's wings flapping helplessly at its sides. Her limbs felt smoother than usual, her blood warm in her veins, as Ragnar handed her the bowl from which a little warm cloud steamed against the cool night air.

When Ragnar had spread the wings of the goose at the statue's feet, his eyes turned to hers, a loving spark glowing from them, almost shining at her as she held the warm bowl between their bodies.

They did not speak, but there were many things said between them as Ragnar reached up his hand and dipped two fingers into the dark read liquid. Frida closed her eyes when she felt him stroke his dripping fingers across her cheeks, leaving a burning sensation on her skin where he touched her. She could smell the blood on her face, the fresh iron fragrance heavy in her nostrils as she opened her eyes to have hers lock with Ragnar's, his blue crystals staring into her soul, piercing through all of her layers and right into her inner most secret places.

She felt him seeing her, truly seeing everything she was, as she stood there, and she did not let her eyes fall from his when she too dipped a finger into the warm liquid.

Ragnar exhaled deeply when she let her finger travel down over his face, from the line of his hair down over his nose and further to his lips which he separated lightly as her finger traced them. He took a step closer to her and dipped his thumb into the bowl before raising it once more to stroke it over her parted lips, yet another heating sensation pricking her skin, and she heard herself whimper out over his hand.

She saw Ragnar's jaw clenching at her reactions to his touch, and she too let her finger dip into the bowl once more before coloring the skin under his eyes, the dark lines making his eyes shine out even more in the darkness that surrounded them here in the middle of the forest.

When Frida reached up to cup his chin with her hand, Ragnar immediately closed the distance between them, their lips colliding roughly.

They soon moved swiftly together in the night, as if their bodies were dancing to a secret rhythm of the forest. 

"They are watching us, Ragnar," she heard herself breathe silently into the night with Ragnar over her. She felt his hand pulling her chin upwards, his eyes soon staring into hers. "I know," he whispered.

A wide and satisfied smile grew on her lips when she felt his limbs loosen over her, and she soon turned around to look up at him, his eyes still black from the hunger they both had felt for each other.

Another kind of warmth flushed her body when Ragnar let his eyes fall to her face, and she watched his lips curl lovingly when she reached up her hand to cup his face, where dried blood still lingered in small dark clots.

They stayed there for a while until their breathing had calmed, and Ragnar rose to his feet, reaching his hand down for her to grab. Frida felt warmth travel down her thighs when she too got on her feet, and she quickly lifted her eyes to have a final glance at Freyr in front of them.

The small fire at the great rock had almost burned out, and the shadows on the statue's face now seemed to have calmed.

She exhaled in affection when she felt Ragnar's arms snake around her from behind, his chin resting upon her shoulder and his eyes raised to Freyr's face too. She heard herself chuckle as he hugged her, her heart almost boasting from the love she felt running in her veins. Ragnar raised his hand to stroke her hair, tucking it away behind her ear, and he kissed her cheek gently.

This had been the most perfect day.

Frida let her eyes travel over Freyr's figure, and they rested on the lower part of it, her lips curling slightly.

"Tell me something," she whispered sweetly as they stood there. "I never understood why Freyr has three legs."

Ragnar chuckled in her ear.

"He hasn't," he smiled widely.

Frida turned her face to furrow her brows at him, but when she saw the teasing look in his eyes and the smug smile that was plastered on his lips, her mouth opened in surprise as she realized what it then had to be.

"Is it his...?"

Ragnar laughed out and took a step towards the path leading back to the village.

She turned around to see him shrugging his shoulders and tilting his head at her. "You now what they say about us men of the North.

Frida raised her eyebrow questioningly at the suddenly boyish looking man in front of her, a smug smile curling Ragnar's lips.

Frida giggled girlishly at his words, and heat flushed her cheeks.

Well, to be honest ...