"She is very beautiful. Her eyes... are so green."
Frida smiled as she threw another piece of the dried trout she had still not learned to eat over to Freke who hungrily stared at her, his body completely tensed, ready for the throw. She turned her smile to Lagertha who sat by the fire with a little bundle in her arms.
Ragnhildir was calm, almost asleep there, and Frida felt her heart melting a little bit in her chest, as Lagertha gently swayed her body from side to side.
This woman was amazing. Frida regretted not having made friends with her as closely as with Helga, but she knew that it could not be blamed on her alone. Lagertha was a very ambitious and busy woman, a woman whom you often found screaming in the middle of the training spot or in the cozy light of the long-hall where she and the king and his men would decide matters of importance.
But sometimes, you found her sitting still, in a stool by the fireplace and with a calm air surrounding her. Then the sweet gentleness that all mothers possess would shine from her eyes like a star. Just like now.
Frida smiled to herself. "Lagertha, are we friends?" she asked in a soft voice.
The small sound of the crackling of flames licking wood danced between them as Lagertha raised her eyes to gaze at her, not blinking but with a sweet smile curling her lips.
"Well, of course we are friends, Frida. You are practically my family," she said, her arms around Ragnhildir hugging her tight for a quick moment.
Frida nodded with a smile and turned her eyes to look at the last piece of fish she had in her hand before she threw it at the wolf by her feet.
"Why?" Lagertha voiced in a slightly raised tone.
Frida looked at her with serious eyes. "Because I have something very personal to ask you."
Lagertha widened her eyes, but quickly lowered them to the small girl now sleeping in her arms.
Frida's voice sounded surprisingly calm as she added: "From one woman to another."
Frida rose from the bed and tugged her fur closer to her body before pouring them both a cup of ale. She felt Lagertha's eyes following her as she walked over to place herself beside her, reaching over the cup of ale whit her eyes locked on the fire in front of them. The air was warm and smoky, even with such freezing weather outside. Rollo's laughter was heard from the long-hall, and Frida saw out of the corner of her eye that Lagertha relaxed a bit.
Was she nervous?
Frida turned to look at her, and she smiled at her, trying her best to seem warm. Lagertha had a strange expression on her face, a face that reminded Frida of her first experience of Kattegat. Frida cleared her throat.
"Has... has Freyja ever visited you?" Frida breathed in a quick breath, small pink roses flowering her cheeks as the question left her lips.
This was something she had wanted to talk to somebody about, but not just anybody. It had to be a woman. A mother. Someone close to her family. It had to be Lagertha.
Lagertha looked a little puzzled as she tilted her head at the blossoming Frida, her blond hair falling beautifully down from her shoulder. "Yes, many times."
Frida stared at her, her cheeks still colored.
"How was she like?" she asked in a small voice while Ragnhildir's sweet little breathing aired between them, and Frida let her eyes fall down to her daughter.
Her heart drummed as she took in her beauty. It had not been more than a week since she had given birth to this little creature, and yet, she had grown like a flower before Frida's eyes. Stealthily gaining strength, sweetly taking form.

YOU ARE READING
Frida
FanfictionA Northumbrian girl's life is turned upside down, when she is brought to the homelands of the Vikings. A different historical perspective of Ragnar's saga that includes old Nordic tales, proverbs and songs as to create a true Danish Viking appeal...