Bridal Price

The Final Price

Your looms, your beautiful silk from England and fine thread were all gone. The fire devoured everything under your feet. Only dark ash remained. Your father's body– your sisters trapped inside, they were all gone. Vaði kept at the ashen site while Hvitserk's boots kicked through, looking for the right area. You fall upon the ground in your olive green dress, pulling open a small chest of your father's treasure to go with what little remains that there was left.

"Here." Hvitserk drops beside you, pushing apart the floors to pull out a chest. He lifts it into his arms while you take to the locks, popping it open and looking at the fine treasure left there.

"I am happy that he died well." You say, running your finger over the top of the chest. "That way perhaps he went to hel instantly."

Your father was no warrior. For the war upon Ragnarok, you doubted that Odin would call him to the battlefield. Through it all, Hvitserk had been there. You couldn't explain why he was. A prince that took Ake into his home to be cared by the healers. She finally seemed to come back to her normal self but... she was burnt. It was anyone's guess what would come of her.

"He did." Hvitserk says. "Your sisters as well."

You glance over to your old fuck buddy, nodding. Vaði had been through to clear the remains before you had gotten here and so you had come through to find your father's remaining treasure buried away under the floorboards of the home. You retrieve a coin of gold your father had buried away, looking upon the head of Ecbert. He always boasted of going with Ragnar on his raid of Lindisfarne.

"Except for Ake. I will have to keep her with me." Your voice hinges on fear that he can almost taste on his tongue. What man would take on dual responsibility? "It is unlikely she'll marry now."

The burns were... well, extensive. He'd gotten in trouble for pulling the dress of her body, as evidently, he was not supposed to do that. Still now she sat under salves for which the basket around your arm had both yarrow and lily that you would shortly boil in butter to apply as a red salve. Even ribwort that you would later boil in the same for a blue salve.

"Whatever man you find would be lucky to have two seamstresses." Hvitserk says evenly while tucking the trunk under his arm. He offers you out a hand to help you leap over the ask and grime in your cute flats.

"What changed, Hvit?" You walk slowly with him, setting your palm to his firm bicep. Vaði had given him permission to touch you and bit by bit had you turned back to him. Enough that he could feel less shameful when he touched you.

"What do you mean?" He looks past the ones staring upon you. The streets are full, bustling with life from the Kattegat's people going on their way. It isn't as if you could blame them. Life went on. The day was beautiful– the sky, clear.

"You're not begging." You note.

Ah, begging for you to take him back.

"Thought it would be annoying." Hvitserk answers. You both stop in front of the marketplace, looking out toward everyone that sells their wares. After a moment you signal him closer to those that sell goods from far off places. After such a traumatic past few days, you could use something sweet. Sweet like the cherries imported from Spain. You have a soft sigh on your lips, debating just... what to do or say.

"Thank you, Hvitserk."

He shifts, glancing to motion behind you. The blacksmith sweeps closer with several large steps, clearing his throat when he's close enough behind you. You shift on Hvitserk's arm uncomfortably and he notices as much.

"You've chosen to marry Hvitserk?" He rumbles, trembling like your hand around his arm. Hvitserk thinks it strange enough but more so when you look down to your basket without speaking much to him.