Ragnarssons And The Berserker's Daughters

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  A thick veil of fog hung over Kattegat in the early hours of the morning.  The air was wet.  There had been a light rain and all was damp.  A dull morning really.  At least, that's what Ivar thought.

  The youngest Ragnarsson sat comfortably on a rock near a stream that ran just outside of town.  His hands lazily combing over the rich brown fur of the bear pelt that lay in his lap.  A blank expression etched across his face as he watched Gerd scrub through her tightly braided strands of hair.  The young woman leaned the top part of her body over a giant wooden bowl that had water from the stream in it.  Her fingers creating suds from the soap she used in her hair as she scrubbed away at her scalp.

  Gerd hummed softly to herself.  Usually, she would come to the stream alone but Ivar decided to grace her with his presence.  It had only been a few days since Ivar's return and the procession of his mother's funeral happened.  After Ivar's outburst upon hearing the news about Aslaug, he had distanced himself from everyone.  Especially, Gerd.

  That is, until this morning when he secretly followed Gerd to the stream.  It didn't take long for her to notice that he was around.  So, he made himself known and rested on the rock he currently occupied.  He didn't say anything and he really didn't have to.

  Gerd knew what he wanted the moment he dragged himself out from behind some bushes.  The deep blue pools of his eyes spoke for him.  He just wanted her company again.  He needed her.  Not in the physical sense, but in the emotional.  She was the calm cure for the violent waves of sorrow and anger that flooded his mind.

  So there he sat.  Tired, brooding, and mournful.  However, he was planning something that Gerd had no knowledge of and he was growing impatient.

  "Do you always take this long?" He questioned while masking the pain in his voice.  The horrible aching in his legs was worse than before.

  Rinsing her hair of the soapy suds quickly, Gerd tossed the remaining water in the wooden bowl out on the ground before walking over to him.  She took the bear pelt from his lap and joined him on the rock.  Ivar watched as she adjusted the pelt on top of her head.  The rest of the pelt fell over her shoulders and back.

  Droplets ran down her neck and darkened the collar of her dress.  Ivar's eyes lingered there for a moment before he willed himself to look at the stream where she was  moments ago.  Gerd cast her gaze down at her lap.  Her cheeks lightly flushed until she heard Ivar inching off the rock.

  He moved carefully until he managed to get to the ground and started crawling away.  Gerd stood up but didn't follow after him.  Ivar paused and glanced over his shoulder.

  "Don't just stand there!"

  Hurriedly, Gerd caught up with him as he dragged himself onward.  Her steps matched his pace then she noticed something.  He was breathing heavily and he kept inhaling sharply every now and then.  She knew he was trying to hide how much physical agony he in

  She wished she could carry him on her back like Floki had done for much of their childhood.  Sadly, knowing Ivar, he would never agree to it.  He would most likely never talk to her again if she ever gestured it to him.  She didn't want that and she didn't want to humiliate him.  At the same time, she hated seeing him suffer.  Gerd cared so much for him while the world cared so little.

  Ivar's hardships made him who he was and the death of his mother did something to him.  Even now, Gerd could see the affect it was having on him.  That really worried her.  She had no idea what kind of plans Ivar was currently forming in his mind and she was going to find out soon.
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