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I woke up, the next morning, to a feeling of warmth. As the sunlight hit my cheek, making the pillow beneath my face radiate its energy, I couldn't help but wake and feel the smallest of smiles tug at my lips. I turned slowly, recalling the previous evening as Hvitserk lay sleeping beside me. I was certain that he'd sleep all day if given the chance, but something within me still didn't have the heart to wake him.
For the one singular night, I had felt life as I'd never felt it before. Real, actual, happiness. I felt safe, secure, without need of constant paranoia. For one night, I'd let my guard down.
After so many years of solitude, it was exactly what I needed. I needed to feel something other than the agony in my soul that refused to let go. My only issue was, I now couldn't let go of the happiness that I'd felt. If it had been someone else, perhaps I might've been able to. But somehow, Hvitserk had managed to take a hold of my heart.
Slowly, I moved out from under his arm and off the bed, still checking to make sure that I'd not woken him. The sunlight gently seeped through the window, illuminating his every feature, and in that moment it was hard to imagine him as a brutal Viking warrior.
When I noticed the soft smile on my lips, I quickly returned to my standard stone cold expression. These feelings that filled my chest were the kind that I'd held back for years, the kind that I thought I'd eradicated entirely. They were weakness. Nd they would get me killed if I wasn't careful, of that I was sure. This must've been what my visions were warning me of. I had to remove myself from any emotional attachment before it was too late.
And yet, some part of me sensed that it already was too late.
When I left, closing the door gently behind me so as not to wake him, I turned to be greeted with Ubbe - who looked rather concerned.
"Have you seen my brother?" He questioned, looking around.
"Which one?" I folded my arms in return, looking up at him impatiently.
"Hvitserk." He answered. "We need to discuss strategy and defense."
I gave a small nod, gesturing towards the door to the little cottage that I'd claimed as my own, before walking off away from them in search of solitude. As I departed, Ubbe seemed to watch me leave in slight shock before entering the cottage, no doubt to discuss all that had happened with his little brother and perhaps ask him why. I was, after all, the murderous bloodsoaked queen that everyone seemed to be terrified of. Who would go near me? Wasn't I cursed?
"I think I am being warned." I spoke into the darkness as Hvitserk settled beside me, his bright eyes scanning my movements in the dark, as though he was taking every inch of me in.
"Warned about what?" He questioned, making eye contact with me.
I couldn't help but sigh as I looked over at him, my heartbeat like a drum as I contemplated what to say next. "I think that I will die if I continue with you and your brothers."
He shook his head, leaning on his arm as he prepared to speak to me. I followed his action, making us face to face again. "All of us die, Gwen." He shrugged. "But I don't think you'll die soon."
"Do tell me, Hvitserk, when you became a seer." I scoffed, lying back down with a small huff.
Although, as always, he was persistent. "I might not be a seer, but I know that you still haven't found happiness."
"Ivar says that happiness is a lie, that it's meaningless." I retorted, glowering over at him in the darkness.
"Ivar would say that." Hvitserk answered flatly. Finally, he touched my chin to make me look at him again, his words were kind but firm, in a way that I suppose I always needed. "Everyone deserves a chance to live a better life, Gwen."
My fingers dipped into the cold water of the stream, tingling sensations shooting up my arm as it bit my icy skin. The wind howled in the distance, it's echoing filling my heart. My heart, at this point, simply remained an empty cavern of screams that seemed to echo much like the wind. Screams that never ceased. There was no peace, no rest. Just the darkness for eternity.
I wasn't sure if I believed in his words. Did everyone truly deserve such a thing? I'd done such horrible things, such unchangeable things that I could never forgive myself for. Did I really deserve a second chance?
And then a question began to materialize in my mind. What was I afraid of? We're my visions to be trusted, or were they simply my paranoia? Was I just so afraid of getting close to someone that my mind had to invent an excuse? Or was I truly in danger?
