VIKINGS || GYDA

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟗 *

I had never been a good sleeper. My dreams have always been so vivid. Often my body has to wake itself up. Mother use to tell me that they were gifts from the gods. But I knew I wasn't blessed like that.

Careful not to wake a sleeping Hvitserk and Ubbe, I pull myself away from their sprawled bodies.

I smiled to myself at this. They had taken to me quickly. They argued between each other all evening of where I would stay. They wanted me to tell them stories, to play with them, to show them all the sword strokes I've learnt. Finally I ended the fights by saying they could both stay in my room.

I walk out into the darkened hall. Standing here made me realise just how big it used to seem to me. I take a few quiet steps closer to the two thrones that sit within the centre.

The image of father sitting in it seemed quite fitting and familiar. I can even remember my mother sitting next to him. It was more than suited to her as well.
What great plans they had promised Kattegat—What good the two of them ruling together could have brought to the people.

My fingers gently skim the smoothness of the arm of what use to be my mother's chair. Then there was father's throne. It screamed power and dominance, it demanded the attention and obedience of all.

This chair represented so much more than it seemed, it was a cage for my father. He never wished for power like this. It was just what the gods had planned for him. He couldn't help it—no one could.

Holding onto the arm of father's throne had my mind wondering. Bjorn was first born, he is a restless spirit that craves adventure, but Bjorn is not ambitious for leadership. I am second eldest, would I be the one to sit this chair one day?

No. What am I thinking?

If anyone were to succeed his place it would have to be one of my brothers. Aslaug was father's wife now, she will ensure her sons are next in line. I could respect that.

"You never were a good sleeper, even as a baby. "

My hand quickly retracts from the throne.

He takes in my response and walks towards me. He passes me by as he takes a seat in the throne. I eye him curiously. His lip twitches in a smile as he gestures for me to take a seat in the other throne. As strange as it felt, I obliged.

"You were born in the summer, it was a half moon. You came into the world earlier than expected. We were told that you were delicate and to keep you wrapped and in your cot. You cried all through the nights. Your mother and I felt like we'd never figure you out." He smiles into his hand that rested by his cheek, "That is when we realised that all you needed was to be held after all. You spent the nights in my arms or your mothers, you were so small I could almost hold you in my hand."

He holds out his flexed out hand to me.

"Do you ever sleep well?"

"Only when I have exhausted myself with training." It was true. Those were the only days I rested. My dreams nothing but a dark void.

"Ah," he accepts, "That's right, you have sworn yourself as a protector of the throne. The kings warriors. The fighting never stops for you." He sounded unimpressed.

I pull on my lip in thought,
"You don't approve, do you?"

He shrugs, "I am proud of what you have achieved, but you do not belong there. The warriors of the guard don't belong to themselves or even to their commander, they take their orders from the King—who couldn't care how many of you need die to fulfill his desires."

"I think that explains every army there has been." I throw back. "Do you not control armies? Do you not order men to fight and die in battle?"

"The difference Gyda, is I too was once a soldier among the ranks. I respect every man who fights for me and I don't gamble their lives that they have entrusted. Can your king say the same?"