Thanks Everyone! Your reviews help me keep going, and I was so inspired that I managed to get another chapter out today! I hope you enjoy it all. To answer a few questions and comments and requests; Ivar does walk in this story, historically there are many versions of him and I went with my favorite, which is that he was called boneless for the way he fought in battle. It was said he was the tallest, most intelligent and handsome of all Ragnars sons..I mean Ubbe is a close second of course, lol. Next, I am working on a Tolkien Fic! And Alicia Vikander is gorgeous but Lofn is a little thicker, taller and her eyes are a lighter brown but this is up for interpretation of course. Feel free to insert anyone in there, even yourself, haha (we've all done it at least once) Okay, I'll get to the goods now. Again, I'm so overwhelmed and so appreciative of all the love and support. You guys are the best!
Skol 3
Chapter Ten:
The Burden of Fate
Lofn had picked up on her grandmothers frantic aura from the very moment she pulled her away from Halfdan like a child playing with a naughty friend. She couldn't say she was not entirely grateful for the interruption.
She had wanted to be unsure of his intentions, but what was the animus of most men? She had to come to know the considerable distinction between cultures separated by centuries and technology. These men were as close to the prototype of virility than any other and in recent exposure had concluded that they practised little restraint in life as they did in battle. Halfdan's intentions were that of most Norsemen, to conquer and breed a woman they deem worthy of bearing their stock. Lofn was still debating her opinion of this peculiar, imposing specimen. When he had caught her, there was a flutter in her stomach, but this one came with a looming, heavy feeling in her heart. A weighty contrition wrapped tightly in obligation and duty. A quaver had slithered down her spine, like the first bead of sweat on a summers day and she felt compelled to look into his eyes. His dark eyes were pressing, and left feeling as though intertwined with his gaze, his imposing form brought a flush to her cheek and that had been the moment she had been gladdened by Erik's embrace.
She could feel his heavy, deep auburn gaze on her until out of sight.
" Inna is ready so soon?"
Lofn kept pace with her suddenly speedy Amma and had opted for slinging Erik on her hip to save his legs from tiring.
" No." She grumbled.
Lofn stopped suddenly, her brow arched at the silly fib the elder had told.
" Then what is the rush? Is Torvi baking again? Do we need to stand by with the buckets of water?"
The woman in questions youngest child threw his head back with a hearty giggle. The blood woman excelled at a great deal of things; Archery, tanning hides and sewing leather and furs, her venison was the greatest this side of all Scandinavia but to bake a loaf of bread or a lemon cake spelled out disaster for the hearth and home.
Runa's face had not changed in severity, it only grew more urgent in it's silent plea.
" The Seer calls on you, Lofn."
It hit her with a solid thump, her heart sank into her feet making them heavy enough to weight her to the ground.
"You said that I would know."
" I lied, Lofn. He had sought you out the moment you arrived, but I had put him off your trail for weeks now."
There was an epidemic threatening her relationship with the older woman, dishonesty and it was taking a toll on the obligated trust associated with unconditional love. She wanted to scream, but thought it best to take a deep breath and remain placid to avoid stressing the boy at her hip.
" Erik, you'll have to go with Runa." She ordered in the most endearing tone.
" Okay Lofie, hurry back."
The young woman put the child down and exchanged no words with the woman she was beginning to wonder if she even knew at all. A wave of anxiety shook her nerves, a sense of dread gnawed mercilessly at her core yet, her legs urged onwards. Lofn had no instruction, no map to guide her but it was the same unnamed might acted as Shepard to her current plight, the path became clearer with each step. Sweat beaded at the nape of her neck, her hands tittered and shook with panic as she neared the hut of the seer. It reminded her much of her grandmothers home with the endless amount of trinkets and protection runes scattered about. A stew of belief and superstition on display to warn and remind passersby, but there were none about. The dirt paths were barren, no fair heads bustling about. She was alone with the wind and the whistling swirl of dust and bright, golden leaves dancing along. Lofn was at a loss for this custom. Then again, most modern aged fortune tellers were exaggerated versions of offensive stereotypes cultivated carefully to extract your money. She had read enough to know the bare minimum of this spiritual practice but she took a deep breath and prepared for the worst of it. Many years ago, she had read about the Seers and the reverence attached to their livelihood for they were vessels and messenger to the gods. Often grotesque in appearance, mutilated and blinded so as to serve their masters better. She stood frozen at the wool sheath acting as a feeble door to the hut clutching her basket until her knuckles lost their colour.
"Come child," The voice crackled like the embers of a decaying fire " I can feel your uncertainty from here."
Forward she strode, turning back was no longer an option and with straightened shoulders she stood in front of the black shrouded silhouette. The mans back had been turned to her.
"I can feel your thoughts, child."
When the cloaked being turned to face her, she refrained from gasping out of shock but a relief. A creature stood, though not as monstrous as she had imagined as a child. His skin was so pale that the hue had taken on a shade of sickly blue, lips were curls in and coated in a sooty substance almost reaching the nose. His eyes were absent entirely and instead remained the two scarred craters void of any indication of humanity. She toiled with her anxiety still, but it subsided slightly with the reveal of one less unknown.
"I'd believe anything at this point." She smiled.
He cackled softly " Levity is indeed a rarity in my presence." Long, gangly fingers pointed to a cushion facing the creature. " Come and sit, child. Your grandmother has made this meeting quite improbable since your arrival."
Lofn was shocked at the casual tone but it brought the disquiet in her chest down more. She obeyed and knelt down on the worn, straw pillow. It was not comfortable, but there was no need to show disrespect for such a trivial reason.
"I'm sure she had her reasons." Indifference carried her voice, causing a tilted grimace to the face of the messenger.
"She loves you dearly, child. Merely protecting you, I'm sure." He spoke like a wise old crone, relaying overplayed cliches.
"May I ask why I am here?"
" You may, yes. But first let me see you. So far I can see only a wave of defensive unease."
'but you have no eyes' Lofn immediately scolded herself. The blind were able to see by touch, by sound and sensation. She could comply with the simple request of a sightless being.
The blue fingers reached out and she leaned forward to aid the connection. His skeletal claws were colder than death but posed to threat as they gently combed over her features to memorize the structure of her face. He pulled back with a smile, revealing teeth so blackened by decay that she thought they may fall out if he breathed to hard.
" The All Mother undersold your grace, child."
This child business was irritating but she assumed he did not know her name. Wait. All mother?
"Frigga?" She gasped in surprise and delight.
Another cackle.
"Whom else, child. The mother of all fate has crafted your destiny and placed it in the care of others to help see it through."
What would the wife of Odin want with her? This must be a metaphor, a confirmation similar to what a catholic priest would say to a devout fool to keep them so.
"Like you?" She entertained the idea but the scepticism was clear in her voice.
"No child, I am but a servant." there was a brief pause in his speech. " Go on then, ask. I have been waiting many years to serve your enquiries."
She wanted to have an open mind and after everything, but the anxiety was subsiding rapidly and if he said child one more time, she would certainly scream. She expected to but this vibe was too crystal ball in a dimly lit room covered in tye dye above a noodle house to her. Only in this case, she couldn't eat her entire bodies weight in ramen after being dissapointed by a Caucasian girl posing as a roma fortune teller. She could entertain the idea, for now.
" What if I don't like my answer." she replied with a feigned tone of intrigue.
" You won't like most of what I have to say. Yes, you will curse me. Stubborn as you are, Child."
Her eyes snapped to focus on the hooded creature. The last word was so deliberate, as if he had heard the context of her mind. The pace of her heart quickened and to quell the panic rising once more, her body moved to the defensive, matched in the sharpness of her tone.
"You don't know me." She snapped.
There was a growl to her voice that made the seer think of Ivar and mirrored the poisonous tone he had taken the day before. The crone held no resentment, it was a grave undertaking to become aware of a fate that would weigh down heavily on their young souls and set a coarse for the rest of their lives. However hostile the recipient mattered little, greatness had been reserved for few and the burden of such fates had been selected for only the strongest of the gods children. Ivar was merely a sword and Lofn, the whet stone and flux that kept it sturdy and useful.
"Oh, but I do, Lofn Ulfrdotter. I know your life desires, I know your fear of loss and love for the youngest son of Ragnar. I know of the scar you cover with, the one that runs from ear to shoulder and I can recall the purposeful slip of your mothers hand."
It was a desperate shot, one that would garner her ear for certain.
"Enough!"
The young woman stood abruptly, tears had gathered in the corners of her glossy eyes. She did not wish to remember that fateful day, when her mother had been driven mad with jealousy of her youth that she burned her own child's flesh with a hot curling iron. She had done well to forget that woman and the mental and once physical cruelty she endured at her hands. Lofn choked on a ugly sob, but forced that weakness down. How dare this creature use his obvious spiritual boon to slice open old wounds and pour ounce after ounce of salt inside.
She turned away, prepared to grab her woven basket and forget this entire encounter but his damaged voice sounded in the quiet air.
"Ivar Lodbrok is the owner of those eyes you have grown with in dream. The source of unending love and earned joy."
She turns back to the Seer at the mention of her blue eyed viking. She caught sight of a basket filled with trinkets and gold, a vessel of offering to the gods.
" I have only coin to offer." She spoke softly now, clear and consistent to her regular silken brogue.
The blue skinned guide shook his head. " Frigga asks for no offering from you."
Still, it felt outrageous to leave nothing in return, especially when she was brought into this culture and guided to this spiritual abode.
" I will offer my last bundle of Azaleas, I would feel a fool if I did not give something."
He smiled a rotted, toothy grin. One of the reasons the all mother had chosen the dark haired girl to take on such tasks was her unselfish nature.
"Is Ivar the reason I have been brought here?"
She may as well ask the obvious question.
" One of many, Lofn."
She wracked her brain for other possible reasons, more glaring ones came to mind.
" To heal people?"
" You will heal a great many, but you will not save more than what his blade massacres."
It was a hit to her heart, and the gravity of the man she had indeed loved for almost her entire life. He could possibly be a great many things to her, a lover and husband, a protector and doting yet, strict father but above it all, at the base of it all was his nature. His reputation for cruelty and prowess in battle, his cunning and great victories that secured his legacy in the pages of history. That was the man she was fated to, and she was all the more willing to ignore the violence she did not see to preserve her vision of greatness.
" And children?"
She was desperate to know of it, as strong and independent as she was, the dream of little ones running around filled her heart with great euphoria.
" Aye yes, Two sons, three daughters."
She did her best to hide the swell of happiness in her heart but continued the gentle interrogation.
" What reason more?"
The Seer gave no response, hesitant to continue on as such a heft had yet to be placed on another pair shoulders. He spent his long years serving the gods and those faithful to them, but he was a courier of victory and crops that would yield. Yesterday had been taxing, Ivar's quick temper and rage would have frightened all in its unfortunate path but this was contrasting. What notion of humanity left in the blinded mediator was now investing in placing an enormous future in the hands of one not deserving of any amount of suffering she would be made to withstand.
He took in a deep, frayed breath and spoke.
" Your joy will be accompanied with great and necessary anguish, Lofn Ulfrdotter."
The beam in her countenance had faded instantly, he could feel it.
" A great burden has been chosen by the All mother to rest on your shoulders and become anchor to your soul. There will be unavoidable choices you will have to make."
Lofn mirrored the frayed breath of the seer, modest tears rolled out of her eyes.
"I don't understand. Why me?"
He ignored her question, and continued onwards with his interpreted destiny.
" A grievous loss will result in the death of countless men."
" What loss, why? Why me?"
The break in her feathery voice was enough to cause a rip in even his indifferent heart.
" Because you have been bred to do so."
Lofn nodded with a quick acceptance but still confused by all this new, unpalatable information. It made her frustrated at first.
" Can I not just be happy with Ivar?" The frustration could easily turn into something more.
The young woman was not know widely for her fury, but she was still one with great spirit and provocation. She wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened her shoulders.
" Another covets your heart. One that should never be ignored or crossed."
Her lips spoke the name without thought.
" Halfdan."
The seer nodded.
" But you told me I would be with Ivar, birth his children-"
"Bliss must be earned. You must weather many storms, follow many paths."
Such dribble he was speaking and it was obstructing rational, reasonable questioning.
" What paths? What storms?"
She was growing impatient.
" Nothing the gods have deemed impossible to handle. The future of all Norsemen rest on your shoulders."
Lofn bit her tongue to refrain from unleashing a string of obscenities.
" My path will be my own." She countered with a fierce growl to her voice.
"It is your own, child."
She scoffed, disheartened and indignant with the metaphorical rot he spoke. The young Dane had heard more than enough, she would not stand here and subject herself to such negative rhetoric. These words would not drive her course in this new life, she would focus on the good and forget the faulty prophecy.
Her hands snatched her belongings and she was determined now to leave this all behind, to find Ivar and continue on from the night before. Unexpectedly shaking legs carried her to the door, but it was a voice so soft she was certain it did not come from the creature behind her.
" You must break him to form him."
It felt as though an arrow had pierced through the flesh and bone protecting her heart to stab away at the beating organ. A sob began to cut her throat and burned its way up, escaping finally in a fury of torment at the prospect of hurting Ivar in any way.
She would fight this fate. How could she accept such a cruel demand from anyone, no matter how powerful they may be. Lofn had regretted every step she had taken to windup in this glorified tent and she would not offer any god or their atrocious messenger any sense of recognition for promising and bestowing something so heartless.
The young woman burst into the street inhaling fresh, crisp air into her lungs. Her body heaved forward and the contents of her empty stomach spilled onto the dirt road and her sobs became silent and torturous. The entirety of the experience had left her feeling as her stomach did, empty but with a promise of fulfilment rewarded from suffering. Her world began to spin, but she was determined to make it back to the longhouse.
'Common Lofn, pull yourself together.' she scolded her brain to function.
After a few deep breathes she found a window of energy and willed herself to stand and move forward.