Chapter 34 - Solen er så rød, mor

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Please listen to the Danish song "Solen er så rød mor" by Røst. I want you to get in the mood for this one :)


Frida sat with her eyes raised at the rosy sky above her, while she mindlessly let her fingers work on a small flower garland she was making for Ragnhildir with the cute marguerites that flourished lively by the weeping willow she had sat down by. The garland was white, yellow and green, the colors of innocence, and she felt a nudging in her stomach as her eyes kept roaming the skies above her.

The village seemed empty now, without all of the men and shield maidens there, and she had felt a certain restlessness growing in her heart ever since their departure.

His departure.

Frida sighed out as her eyes fell down to the flowers in her hands, and she wondered how long they had come in their voyage, and whether they had reached the English shores yet. She pictured Floki hovering the horizon with his darkened eyes from the stem of the ship. Ragnar, scouting out over the railing too with a raven on his shoulder, consulting with the gods and asking them for success in their coming adventures, while the oars glided through the salty water under their vessel, heaving them closer and closer to their destination.

Frida was humming the tunes of a song that had been resonating in her head ever since Ragnar's departure. A song that she had heard Helga sing many times now for the children before they were to sleep. She felt her heart sinking inside of her chest, as a tone of loneliness unveiled itself in her voice, giving away her deepest emotions. She heard herself singing the song as if it would comfort her as she sat there under the blooming greens of the willow that were painted orange by the beams of the setting of the sun.

"The sun is so red, mom
and the forest is turning so black.
Now the sun has died, mom
the daytime won't be back.
The fox is out there, mom
we're locking our doors.
Come, sit by my bedside, mom
and sing a little song."

She felt her throat tightening slightly and something wet gathering in the corners of her eyes. Even though she knew that she was not alone here in Kattegat, that Helga and Elisef who had come to be her closest friends were just inside the longhouse looking out for the children, she still felt loneliness shadowing her being, creeping over her like a spirit of the forest, an elf coloring her skin and making her feel like a child all over again.

Fearful and unknowing.

Her thoughts wandered back to the morning before Ragnar had sailed off with the raiders, how he had stood here by this exact same tree, scouting the skies just like her. Frida had been looking for him, as Rollo had urged for him to join the others by the boats, and Frida had searched every corner of the longhouse without finding her husband anywhere.

But when she had peeped her head out of the small door that led to the outskirts of the village, her eyes had quickly fallen upon his figure. Her heart had drummed in her chest as she had watched him standing there, with his eyes turned to the sky, and she had felt her blood rushing when out of the blue canvas came a giant black raven diving through the air before landing upon Ragnar's shoulders, croaking softly as he welcomed it.

Frida had held her breath and furrowed her brows as she had watched him and the raven, how he had looked at it with his blue crystals shining more than ever, how he had whispered to it, as if he was having a conversation with it, and how it had fluttered its wings lightly as it croaked at him, answering his uncertainties in the morning sun.

Frida giggled inaudibly as she recalled how frightened she had been when the raven had turned its small black eyes to stare at her, causing Ragnar to turn to look at her too and discover that she had been standing there prying on them. He had not been angry with her, he had merely curled his lips and turned his back to her again, before the raven croaked at him one last time, scattering its big wings and taking off into the blue openness above them.

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