A/N: So I still felt my muse and decided right after I posted the last chapter to write up this one. Lucky for you all that are still reading! Warning: this is a sad, frustrating chapter, but hopefully you all like it. It's not easy being in a relationship! Thank you to all of you that take the time to read, and THANK YOU to those who take the time to review! It's like crack to writers…but not bad for you haha

So when I'm walking down the road and feeling bad
Can't understand the things you do
Nothing turns out the way we planned
You're still my baby and I'm still your man

-Griffin House

Athelstan watched Helena as she slept; it was the only time in which he would not find her eyes ready on the verge of tears anymore. But her forehead was creased and her breathing was getting faster, as if her dream was causing her distress. Reaching over to her, he gently pushed stray hairs away from her face, running his thumb over her ruddy cheek. She seemed to relax after that and so he removed his hand reluctantly.

In the weeks and months following the loss of the baby, Helena had been very quiet and distant from Athelstan. Lagertha told him not to take her reaction personally, as she was deep in grief and most likely blaming herself. But it didn't make him feel any better. This was supposed to be a happy and exciting time for them, being newly married, and here his new wife was barely able to get out of bed or eat.

Athelstan hated God.

A shuddering breath informed him that Helena was awake even if her eyes weren't open quite yet. He braced himself for another day of talking to someone who wouldn't answer with anything but a short nod or shake of the head. His chest grew heavy and his body tired all over again at the thought of it.

Helena's eyes fluttered open and she looked almost hopeful when her gaze met his, but the reality set back in and he could see as the sadness weighed down her shoulders. He brought her hand to his mouth and left a lingering kiss on the tops of her knuckles.

"I'll make breakfast," he whispered, throwing the furs off of him and walking to the hearth to start the fire for the porridge. As it roared to life, Athelstan filled the pot and put it over the flames to warm.

Once Helena was up out of bed, he went to relieve himself for the morning and came back to see her sitting at the table, dressed for a day in which she would do nothing, waiting on her breakfast with an empty look in her eyes.

Athelstan stirred the porridge and, finding it warm enough, served Helena first and then put some in his bowl. The crackle of the fire kept the silence from being deafening. Athelstan felt as if he ate his meals at lightning speed anymore in comparison to Helena's snail pace. Her small bites and catatonic stares were playing on the last of his nerves; endless weeks of this and no end in sight.

"Ragnar said that we will start readying the land for planting within the week. He wants to be sure of the last of the frost before we begin plowing," he said in an effort to get her to speak.

Helena looked up and gave him as much of a smile and nod as she could seem to muster. As she went back to her porridge, Athelstan felt a familiar and yet foreign feeling gurgle up from the pits of his stomach and crawl quickly up to his head. His hands shook with anger, a rage that he could no longer take.

He picked up his empty bowl and spoon and took them over to the basin to be washed at some point, but as he went to place them inside, his arm flung the bowl at the wall across the way, causing a loud bang and the pottery shattered into pieces on the dirt floor below.

"You're not the only one who has lost a child, Helena," he spat out loudly. Athelstan took the steps to where she sat, frightened and staring at him with a look he had never seen on her face before, taking her shoulders in his hands. "I can't begin to imagine what it is like to lose a child from your very body, but you need to SNAP OUT of whatever this is and TALK to me!"

Tears began to roll from her eyes and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You're my wife, Helena, and we're in this together. I love you, and I miss you."

Seeing that no words would come from her anytime soon, Athelstan released his grip on her and left the house, slamming the door behind him. He had no intention of doing what he had just done but the frustration had become a constant sour taste in his mouth, and to get it out in the open made him feel (reluctantly) better.

Athelstan walked across the fields, through the tree line, and over to the edge of the cliff. The water was calm and he could hear a faint trickle as it moved over and around the rocks along the coast. Taking a deep breath, he sat down and closed his eyes, releasing the air in his lungs to the outer world. And he cried.

He couldn't say when he had fallen asleep on the damp earth, but he could tell you that it was the approaching footsteps that woke him. Sitting up suddenly, Athelstan looked around to see where the noise was coming from, only to find a meek Gyda making her way over to him.

"Gyda," he greeted, turning his eyes to the water.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, her voice one with the wind.

"I needed some fresh air and change of scenery." His tone was dull and lifeless, and even he thought it harsh.

Gyda sat down next to him and twirled the wet grass in her fingers, pulling them from their roots. "Have you finally shown your anger to Helena?"

Athelstan gazed down on the younger girl and wondered how she always knew so much with little to no detail. "How did you know?"

Gyda shrugged, throwing the grass into the breeze and watching as it flew over the edge. "I could feel that something was wrong, and I have seen the distance that you two have created since she lost the baby."

He began to play with the grass around him as well. "Everything was supposed to be alright now that we are married and now nothing is alright." He bit his lip, not knowing what to share with the girl since she was not part of the relationship and too young to know anything about one. "I was there for her from the moment it happened. I don't understand why she won't speak to me, why she barely eats, won't get out of bed. I lost a child, too."

Gyda put her arm around him and rested her chin on his shoulder, much like they used to do when it was just the two of them years ago. "She needs to know how you feel without the anger. Do not yell. Instead, continue to show your affections without expecting anything in return, like you have been before now. Helena fell in love with my friend Athelstan, not the new Viking Athelstan. Show her that you're still that person."

Her words stung him; the reality of them too much for what he could take at that moment. "How? I just want my wife back; I want someone to enjoy life with, not push and pull her around."

She smiled up at him. "I'm sure you will figure it out. Just love her, Athelstan. Like me, but more."

He couldn't help the laughter that erupted from him, bursting out of him from a place he had forgotten. Turning, he kissed Gyda's forehead before walking her back home.

Athelstan hesitated at the entrance of his home, pacing back and forth, not sure what to expect once he finally decided to enter. Helena could be angered with him to the point of continuing not to talk to him. Or she could have changed and was frantic as to where he had been all day.

Or maybe she wasn't even home at all.

As he finally headed for the door, it opened and Helena's face appeared in the crack.

"Are you coming in, or are you going to continue to imitate Floki?" she asked, her voice soft and hesitant.

Athelstan gaped at her. "I—I'm coming in."

"Not until you get more wood for the fire. We're out and it's freezing in here."

He saw that she had one of their fur blankets wrapped around her shoulders and shivered at the air that came through the door. Nodding, he went off to the side of the house and chopped some of the waiting wood into smaller pieces that would fit better. He returned and put the wood into the fireplace, stoking it to make it roar to life once more. Helena sat down and warmed her hands.

"Dinner is waiting for you," she gestured to the table where meats and cheeses sat on a plate for him.

"Thank you."

As he ate, Athelstan saw that the house had been cleaned while he was out. Apparently his actions and words had some sort of reaction in her, but at what cost? Helena was speaking to him but her body language was quite cold and distant, turning her back on him while he ate.

"Thank you for cleaning."

She looked over her shoulder and nodded before walking to their bedroom and preparing for sleep. Athelstan didn't know what to do; did he join her, or did he sit in the chair by the fire for the night? Washing up his plate, he decided on sitting in the chair to let things cool off between them. Then they could talk in the morning.

As he tried to get comfortable in the wooden chair, a heaviness came over him. Athelstan opened his eyes to find Helena putting a fur blanket on him, tucking it around his body. He tried to figure out what she was thinking but her face was a blank page.

"I love you," he whispered, not knowing what else to say, and 'thank you' was becoming tiresome.

"Good night," she replied, getting back into bed.

The morning was much like any other that they had had in the past weeks with the exception of Helena cooking breakfast. She was up and moving before Athelstan woke, and he thought that his mind was playing tricks on him at the sight of his wife doing housework.

He groaned at the stiffness from sitting in the chair all night, and his neck cried out in protest from his movements. Breakfast was a silent affair but not as formal of an occasion as previous ones. They even helped each other with the clean-up and washing like they had when they lived with Ragnar and Lagertha.

When Athelstan went to stoke the morning fire, he heard the door open and close behind him. Helena was gone and she hadn't said as to where she may be headed. Frowning, he followed her outside where he found her standing in the middle of the fields that spread far and wide between their home and the Lothbrok's. He made his way carefully over to her, making sure not to be too quiet so that she wouldn't startle easily once he reached her.

"Helena?"

She didn't flinch, didn't move, and didn't say a word. As Athelstan went to her side, he saw her quivering lips and the tears that ran down her pale cheeks. His heart broke at the sight and he took her into his arms, kissing anything that he reach, whispering in her ear words that really made no sense but seemed to be helping.

"Talk to me," he begged her. "I can't help you if you won't tell me how to."

"I've failed you," she wailed, her entire body heaving with her misery.

"What? How—How could you possibly think that?"

She went to shake her head but his grip made it difficult. "I couldn't give you a baby. I'm not good enough to be a wife or mother."

"Oh, Helena," Athelstan sighed. "No, no you're more than good enough. It just…wasn't our time yet to be parents. And that doesn't make it any easier to bear such a loss, but you never have and never will fail me. You're all I've ever wanted, and I need you to always remember that no matter what we go through."

She hiccupped beneath his hands, attempting to calm down. Her balled fists opened enough to cling to his tunic, a sign to him that she was finally tearing down her walls. Athelstan rubbed circles on her back as he waited for her sobs to cease.

"You haven't touched me in forever," Helena breathed, taking in the smell of him.

"I was letting you heal. I just didn't realize that it would take this long."

"I was afraid of you touching me." There was a pause. "I still am."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid of becoming pregnant again. And going through the same loss."

Fresh tears sprung up and Athelstan continued to hold her while she let out her bottled up emotions. If there was one thing that he had learned from yesterday, it was that not getting feelings out only led to destruction.

"I'm angry."

Helena looked up at him, questioning his confession.

"I've known since I first met you that being a mother was all you ever wanted, and I'm angry that God took that from you. And I'm angry that he made you feel this way about yourself because of it."

She shook her head, bringing his head into her cold hands. "Don't talk like that, Athelstan. God tests all of us and I did very poorly. I believe now that he has done this to strengthen our bond as man and wife, and we need to remember that all good things come in His time."

Athelstan agreed physically but he was still unsure of his stance on the situation as she saw it. Helena brought him down to meet her in a hesitant kiss.

"I'm sorry," she said, her lips brushing against his with her words.

"No, I'm sorry."

She moved away only to grab his hand in hers. "Let's go home."