Dahlia woke groggy and disoriented. Her head felt heavy and as she shifted her seat she found that her hands were bound above her head. Her arms tingled as blood struggled to make its way to the tips of her fingers. As her vision became more clear she found that she was in someone's sleeping quarters tied to the base of a bed but where, that was uncertain, not in Kattegat, she knew that much. A pail of water rested by her feet and she kicked at it, scattering it's contents across the room. She released a roar of frustration, not knowing how else to help her situation. Her heart pounded and her chest heaved in unabashed rage. A feeling of helplessness overcame her, only adding to her anger.
The door to the room creaked open and a frightened looking maid stood in the frame, her eyes wide with terror, knapsack clutched in her hands.
'I am here to clean your wounds.' The girl squeaked out. Dahlia let out an embarrassed laugh, her cheek blushing at being caught in an embarrassing fit of anger.
'Oh, yes, come in. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I just woke to find myself a captive.' Dahlia offered with what could be considered a shrug of her shoulders given the position she was in, the bones of her shoulders barely moving. The healer was a young girl, maybe four or five years younger than Dahlia. She was poised, stuck in the doorway, ready to bolt. Dahlia swallowed her pride giving the healer the nicest smile she could muster, hoping it would calm the girl's nerves.
The healer swallowed nervously before shuffling in. She crouched low on her heels, inspecting the cuts on Dahlia's face, her fingers following the dried blood on her neck up to the deep wound that was lost in a dark mass of hair. Dahlia hissed when the fingers grazed the cut. The healer hurriedly jerked her hand away hoping that she had not upset the princess. Eyes trying to look anywhere other than Dahlia she spotted the overturned bucket.
'I need to get water to clean the wound.' She stuttered.
Dahlia wanted to respond but the pain radiating from the cut took her breath away. She breathed slowly through her nose working through the pain as it took over her anger leaving her quiet and weak.
'You'll be more comfortable if I untie your hands.' The healer admitted, her hands worked hastily, fingers nimble around the rope. Dahlia felt her wrists flop down to her lap, useless and numb, another groan of pain escaped her lips unbidden. It was a strange sensation that left her hands unworking. The tips of her fingers felt as if they were being pricked with a thousand tiny needles working their way to the palms of her hands and up to her forearms.
The healer offered her one last sad smile before scurrying off to fill the bucket. Dahlia's mind reeled the moment the healer was out of sight as she took in her current situation. Her eyes darted to the open window thinking she could escape that way but as her body moved, even the smallest amount, she groaned in pain, her vision blurring. Her hand cradled her stomach, hoping the fight had not affected the baby. She tried relaxing some, resting her back and head against the frame of the bed. There was no use in trying to escape if she had a potentially fatal wound on her head, she tried to reason with herself, though everything instinctively told her to run.
The healer returned moments later, quieting the racing chatter in Dahlia's mind. With a full bucket in hand and a timid smile on her lips the healer moved in. They were both quiet as she worked.
What was there to say?
Why in hell am I captive?
Where the fuck am I?
Dahlia wanted to scream all those things but she held her tongue.
What would Ubbe do? She thought to herself.
Ubbe would never be stupid enough to get in this situation, her mind replied.
An irritated growl slipped out of her throat at herself. The healer recoiled, frightened, her eyes darted back to the door, her mouth poised to call for help.
'No.' Dahlia softly demanded. 'It is not you. I am only upset with myself for being so stupid.'
A sad smile pulled at the healer's lips, nodding her head in understanding. Dahlia shared a smile in return, forcing herself to find humor in her situation.
'Thank you for helping me. What is your name?' Dahlia asked.
'I am Anna.'
Dahlia gave another tight lipped smile. 'Thank you Anna.'
Anna smiled, her eyes not meeting Dahlia's, intent on the task before her. She scrubbed at the wound at the back of Dahlia's head for some time before she finally gave a dejected sigh.
'I am sorry princess, but I need to cut away at the hair to fully clean the wound.' Anna admitted with a quiet voice. 'It is a shame to have to ruin such a beautiful mane, I will only cut away what is necessary, I promise.'
Dahlia's brow furrowed, she pulled at her long locks. 'Beautiful?' She questioned.
Anna nodded her head fervently. 'Yes, you're dark hair is a token among a sea of straw.'
'You do not know how many nights I lay awake praying to the gods that I had light hair.' Dahlia said in disbelief.
'You are wrong princess. Why be pigeon when you can be a raven?' Anna prodded playfully, motioning to the bed for Dahlia to lay down on so that her work would be more accessible.
Dahlia's heart swelled at the kind words of Anna, wishing that she didn't have to hurt the kind girl to escape. This could be her only chance and she would be a fool if she didn't take it.
'There.' Anna stood, admiring her work. 'I had to put a few stitches in but it should heal up nicely and your hair will grow back in no time. I am sure no one will notice.'
Dahlia clenched at the blankets underneath her, fingers curling around the soft furs. Anna leaned in inspecting her work one last time. 'I will be back in two days to recheck-'
Dahlia mule kicked at Anna, catching her stomach, causing the girl to lurch forward in pain. Twisting her body around Dahlia planted punch on Anna's sweet round face before darting past her crumpled body. Not daring to take in Anna's reaction to her betrayal, Dahlia darted to the door. Pausing in the threshold she took in the shadows of the hallway. A warrior was approaching in long strides, having heard Anna's cry.
Recognizing the princess he ran forward. Shouting, he drew his sword, pointing it in her direction menacingly. Swinging his sword in a downward arch, he cut at her shoulder. She ducked to the side, turning on her heel, she darted behind him. Lunging forward she clasped at the knife on his hip. Yanking it free she brought the knife to his throat, slicing through the smooth skin on his neck, killing him in one swift motion.
She grimaced as the cords of muscles and veins snapped under the blade. It had been a long time since she had taken another's life. She had forgotten how hard it was to kill. It was not without effort that she sliced open his body. A gurgling noise escaped out of the warrior's mouth, blood pooling about his gasping lips. He fell to his knees before crashing to the ground dead. Dahlia stooped low, taking a moment to make sure his fingers were clasped around the hilt of his sword. She felt a rush of guilt for killing a man that had probably harbored no ill feelings for her. He was only following his duty. She hoped that he might make it to Valhalla with honor. His fingers were warm to the touch as she forcefully curled them along the smooth bone that made up the hilt.
'Do not move.' A voice hissed in her ear. Cold metal pressed against her jaw. Dahlia wanted to laugh at her own foolishness. When would she be able to get out of her own head and be more present? She bit at her tongue, peering over her shoulder to see who had caught her so off guard. A fair haired shieldmaiden glared back at her.
'Drop the knife.' The shieldmaiden demanded, pressing her sword against the soft skin of her neck, drawing blood. Dahlia reluctantly conceded with a roll of her eyes. She let the knife clatter to the ground. Next time she would not be so foolish.
The sparsely lit room was cold, even though the central hearth was burning bright. Dahlia stood naked, her hands bound before her. The wet strands of her dark hair dripped water in soft drops onto the ground. It was the only sound in the room as Lagertha observed her from the doorway.
She refused to bow her head in respect, instead her eyes met Lagertha's gaze, looking on to her with the rage that boiled deep within her. The queen however was unfazed, returning it instead with a sly smile.
'You are healing up nicely.' Lagertha proposed, breaking the silence that encompassed the room. She motioned with her chin to the gash above Dahlia's left eyebrow. The thralls that had been assisting Dahlia in her bath stood quietly in the corner, their heads bent respectfully. Dahlia scoffed heartily under her breath. Was she trying to apologize for the marks her warriors had left on her? She would not receive any forgiveness from her.
Lagertha's eyes slowly scanned from Dahlia's calves to the top of her dark head of hair.
'Is there something you want?' Dahlia sneered, voice etched with bitterness. She had been bound since she had arrived at Hedeby and now she stood naked before this new queen, shivering as water ran in rivulets down her body. She could not blame their caution. She had attacked the first person that had untied her hands and tried to escape.
The thralls who had drawn her a bath that evening, kept her hands bound as they worked, untrusting, making sure to never stand too close to her for any extended amount of time. Lagertha had appeared in the doorway, unannounced, startling everyone in the room. The two thralls had thrust Dahlia unceremoniously with shaky hands from the warm tub, forcing her to stand cold and naked before the queen. Dahlia had never been so humiliated in her life. Her teeth ground together at the thoughts that ran through her mind, the revenge she would enact when she had her chance. Lagertha would know her wrath.
'I came to see how you were fairing.' Lagertha reached out her fingers brushing against Dahlia's belly, inquiring about the baby that grew within. Dahlia swiped at Lagertha with her bound hands. She refused to let the queen touch her, not without her permission. Lagertha nodded her head in understanding, she walked to the bed in the corner pulling a blanket off to offer in reconciliation. Dahlia took the peace offering, but awkwardly realized that she could not wrap the blanket without help. She fumbled with trying to gather it about her shoulders. Lagertha silently took the blanket out of her hands tenderly slipping the soft material around Dahlia's shoulders.
'If you do not know already, you are my hostage.' Lagertha stated with a hard nod of her head, showing that her word was final. Dahlia bit at the inside of her cheek refusing to speak, even though she had a string of harsh words she wanted to unleash.
'You will serve me when I am here in Hedeby until you bear your son.'
Dahlia interrupted hastily. 'How do you know I will have a son?'
Lagertha inhaled through her nose slowly, patience radiating off her. 'I know Ragnar's seed.'
Dahlia's face contorted in confusion but Lagertha continued in her decree.
'When you bear your son I will pluck him from your arms and send you back to your husband who will breed you again and I will repeat the process until I have the peace I desire.'
Dahlia's heartbeat quickened, her lip pulled into a snarl and if her hands were not bound she was certain that they would be tight against Lagertha's neck. Instead she slowed her breathing as much as she could, her eyes narrowed in on Lagertha's face as she spoke.
'The great shieldmaiden Lagertha is so frightened of death that she would pluck babes from the breast of their mother's?'
'I asked for order with your oath and you denied me. This is the result of your doing Dahlia.'
Dahlia's nostrils flared. 'What am I to do, Lagertha? My duty lies with my husband. I have no choice.'
'You always have a choice.' Lagertha noted with a knowing nod of her head.
'Do I?' Dahlia exclaimed, her chest raising in anger. For the past year all decisions had been made for her by the men in her life. The fates were cruel. The gods did not favor her. If she was truly Freyja's daughter then why did she not shine a light on the darkness encompassing her?
Lagertha observed the princess with sad eyes, waiting for her temper to calm. She pulled a knife from her hip, the tip pointed out at Dahlia.
'I will release your bounds if you promise not to hurt another. Kill me if you can, but they have nothing to do with your situation.' Lagertha bargained.
Dahlia's chest stopped heaving as she listened to Lagertha speak. She nodded her head slowly and Lagertha grasped Dahlia by her wrists, pulling her in close. Dahlia stumbled at the unexpected tug, finding balance at the last moment before she crashed into Lagertha and the blanket that once kept her warm fell to the ground.
Lagertha sawed at the ropes until they finally gave way. Dahlia rubbed at her tender wrists once they were free.
'I don't know if I should thank you or not.' Dahlia sneered.
Lagertha offered her a tight lip smile, ignoring Dahlia, stuffing the knife back at her hip.
'Get dressed, dinner is soon, and you are serving the wine tonight.' Lagertha declared.
Lagertha was gone before Dahlia could reply. Leaving her alone with the thralls who shook in the corner, nervous of how she might react now that their warrior queen was gone. Dahlia rolled her eyes at their unbidden stress, she stepped back into the tub, sighing with happiness that the water had not lost all its warmth. The thralls stood frozen in their corner too frightened to make any sudden movements.
Dahlia snapped at them after a few moments of silence. 'Well, do not just stand there. Am I not still a princess? Come, wash my hair.'
When neither made a move, Dahlia's anger rose as did her voice. 'Now!'
The thrall scuffled to collect the soaps necessary and Dahlia smiled to herself as they scurried around the room, tripping over their skirts. She had promised that she would not physically hurt any of the thralls but that did not mean that she had to be nice.
Patiently Dahlia waited near a supporting pillar central in Hedeby's longhall, pitcher of wine clasped between tight fingers. Her feet burned and her back ached in a dull pain. She had never stood in one place for so long, her only reprieve was when she was motioned to refill cups. She wasn't sure what was worse, standing and waiting or to be beckoned at with a flick of a wrist. The latter forced a reaction so deep in her being that it made her head throb.
Thick meaty fingers waved carelessly in the air. A simple action Dahlia had performed so many times throughout her life that she had never thought of its implications. How arrogant was she to assume herself better than to be able to pour herself a cup of wine?
It was then that she made a silent promise to herself to always pour her own drink. With stiff legs Dahlia approached the dining table. Lagertha discreetly watched her every move, not with triumph like Dahlia would have assumed but with a hint of sadness, as if she felt sorry for her. Dahlia bristled at the thought, she would not be pitied.
The meaty fingers were attached to a stout noble man. His long beard was streaked grey and his flat nose and thin lips made Dahlia think he might be a dwarf from another world. He hailed from a nearby settlement demanding attention the moment he burst through the massive doors of the longhouse. Even now he told loud obnoxious tales the women at the table half listened to. If this was Dahlia's longhall, she thought she might have already kicked this man out the doors he came through had she been forced to actively listen to his stories. She was not commander here, nor even her normal status, so she attended to her new duty as thrall as passively as she could, thinking it was best if she was not caught in the middle.
She strained herself around the man's broad shoulders, not finding much room between him and the next chair. Pulling her stomach into her ribs so that she would not touch him she poured the wine, uncaring that it splashed over the edge. The woman in the seat next to the man gestured to her own cup, wanting a refill. Dahlia complied with haste trying to get out of the tight situation as soon as possible.
She was in such a rush that she might not have noticed the fingers running along the curves of her ass until they pinched at the skin possessively. A surprised yelp escaped her lips, wide eyes flew up catching Lagertha's gaze on instinct. A fury lit inside her like oil ignited by fire. Regardless of Lagertha's response Dahlia would act out of pure rage but the small nod of acceptance forced her to slow her mind down.
The man openly chuckled at Dahlia's rigid reaction. 'I am sorry, I cannot help myself. You're thrall's body is one to be admired.' The man half heartedly apologized, scooting his chair back, the wooden legs scraping loudly in the quiet hall. He grasped at Dahlia's waist pulling her toppling into his lap. She hissed in open dejection.
'Do not touch what is mine, Benteinn.' Lagertha drew out in a slow scolding tone. She sat back in her chair relaxed but her eyes narrowed in warning.
Benteinn ignored the queen, giving Dahlia a disapproving look with a tilt of his head and scowling eyebrows so bushy they formed together as one.
'What?' He inquired at Dahlia, who heartily glared back. 'You do not think you are important enough to be admired?' He teased. Dahlia smiled sweetly at his response, the dimples on her cheeks showing off.
'You are mistaken.' She purred leaning into his lips, lifting the pitcher of wine above his head. 'But I cannot help myself.' She tipped the wine, letting it pour haphazardly on top of his greying hair. It splashed against her face but she laughed as Benteinn yelled out in surprise, jumping to his feet, simultaneously pushing her to the ground. Her tailbone took the brunt of the blow making her curse out in pain. The clay pitcher slipped out of her fingers, crashing on the stone floor breaking into a thousands pieces. Benteinn roared in fury drawing back his leg to kick at Dahlia. Half huddled under the dining table Dahlia looked around for a quick escape.
The woman that had been seated next to Benteinn was on her feet, chair clattering to the ground, she shoved at the man throwing him off balance, and drawing out her knife as two other women joined her. They shoved and pulled at Benteinn until they had him bent at the waist face smashed down on the table. Dahlia scrambled out from under the table watching in fascination as the women held down a man twice their size. He yelled in anger, spittle pooling at the corners of his thin lips.
'You cannot do this!' He shouted. 'I know many men who will revolt when they hear of what happened here!'
His face was flushed red, sweat trickling down in fat droplets. His eyes widened with fear as one shieldmaiden clasped at his wrist extending his arm out before him.
Lagertha was on her feet sauntering over to Benteinn, a short sabre with a curved blade clasped in her hand. She nonchalantly let it swing at her side, back and forth, her eyes dragging over the stout man struggling to escape, looking like a trapped animal.
'I warned you, Benteinn, not to touch what is mine. Now you will pay the price.' Lagertha proclaimed. She motioned with her head at the shieldmaiden who held Benteinn's arm, and the young woman peeled his fingers open till they splayed across the wooden table.
'Stop! You cannot do this! I know men!' Benteinn pleaded, actively struggling against the hands holding him but the women just chuckled their grasps becoming tighter.
'I fear no man.' Lagertha hissed between gritted teeth, raising the sabre above her head, she swiped down, blade ringing in the air until it chopped the ends of his fingers off. Benteinn's scream pierced at Dahlia's eardrums making her scowl, her lips turning down in disgust at the noise. He kept screaming, holding his bloodied hands against his chest as the shieldmaidens dragged him out of the long hall.
Dahlia gave Lagertha a wide eyed look of wonder before chuckling to herself under her breath. 'You certainly know how to entertain guests.'
She leaned forward plucking a piece of meat off Benteinn's plate and into her mouth. Lagertha scowled in direction, bloody saber still in hand.
Dahlia's brows furrowed as she considered the famous shieldmaiden before her. 'Do you ever tire of having to prove yourself to men?'
Lagertha sighed resting the sabre against a chair. 'I used to think being a great shieldmaiden would be enough and I would arrive at a destination where all people, men and women, respected me for who I am. Instead I have found that it is just a long journey. I work harder and faster, try to be stronger but it is never enough.'
Dahlia's lip turned down in a frown. 'I grew up hearing your stories and I admired you for all you accomplished, now I think I just pity you.'
Lagertha scoffed, swaying towards Dahlia with an undeniable swagger. She peered up at the dark haired princess with a heated stare. 'You can pity me but I think you will gain more if you join me. I can help you. We can help each other and all the shieldmaidens who follow us. You have a legacy too that you cannot escape.'
Dahlia slowly chewed on the piece of meat wedged between her teeth as she considered Lagertha's words. 'I have been put up on a pedestal since the moment the völva spoke my destiny but it just turned out to be a different kind of gilded cage. I am tired of adhering to rules of what I should be. You will not find an ally in me Lagertha.'
Lagertha raised a skeptical brow. 'You can run from me but know that our work is never over. You will always be chasing acceptance either alone or with help. That is for you to decide.'
Hedeby's long hall was a buzz of activity once word spread that Lagertha had returned. Their jarl turned Queen was highly sought after in the days following Dahlia's arrival. She attended daily to Lagertha, who listened patiently to demands of retribution from wronged neighbors paired smugly with praise for the queen's strength and beauty and to wrathful husbands who accused their weeping wives of infidelity simultaneously licking their lips and grabbing at their cocks in lust for he blonde haired shieldmaiden. It grated on Dahlia's nerves to hear and watch how these men spoke to the woman she had admired for most of her life. How much harder did Lagertha have to work to get the respect from men that she deserved? They may currently be at odds with one another but that did not dismiss Lagertha's hard earned legacy. Lagertha was and continued to be the finest shieldmaiden Dahlia had ever known.
She was just about ready to throw the ceramic flagon clutched in her fist at a haughty looking man when Lagertha abruptly stood, announcing that there would be a break for lunch. Dahlia felt a wave of relief rush over her bones at the thought of sitting. No longer worried about the haughty man who had crowed in opposition to the high taxes on his land, Dahlia made her way to the healer she had mule kicked only a few days past. She had been eyeing the young maid across the hall all morning. She looked otherwise healthy as she worked with the assortment of herbs and flowers spread out on the table before her. At one point she had sneezed so hard that it caused her bruised nose to start to bleed and she had to run out of the hall, a linen handkerchief pressed to her face only to return moments later cleaned up and otherwise unbothered by the accident.
Dahlia timidly approached Anna, whose head was bent in concentration of the stone mortar in one hand, crushing at leaves with a wooden pestle in the other.
'Hello.' Dahlia mumbled. Anna jumped in her seat, eyes widened in surprise to find someone at her table. Recognizing Dahlia she smiled shyly in response.
'Oh, it's you.' She touched the tip of her nose tenderly. Anna's face was vastly discolored, blues and purples swelling under her eyes and along the ridge of her nose.
Dahlia felt a flush of embarrassment rise along her cheeks at the sight of the young woman. 'Yes,' Dahlia stuttered. 'About that. I am sorry for what I did but I saw an opportunity-'
Anna waved her hand dismissively at Dahlia, interrupting her apology with a chuckle. 'Do not worry about it, princess Dahlia. It is only a bruise. And it made my sisters feel so sorry for me that they offered to do my share of laundry for the month. So, in fact you have done me a favor. I despise laundry.'
Dahlia laughed, feeling her guilt lift off her shoulders. 'Oh, good to hear, I guess. Can I sit?' Dahlia asked. Anna nodded her head enthusiastically motioning to the chair across from her.
'May I help you?' Dahlia inquired peering at the assortment of fresh leaves and dried flowers piled on the table.
'Yes, I could use a hand.' Anna divulged, pointing to a long leafy green. 'You can cut up that.'
Dahlia's eyes ran along the wooden plank table, taking in all the tools Anna used to create her medications but saw nothing to cut the leaves with.
'I'll need a knife.' Dahlia said knowingly.
Anna tugged at her apron revealing a small slender knife, no longer than a finger. Just as it brushed Dahlia's fingers Anna reeled it back. The healer had a look of embarrassment as if she should have realized that a hostage should not be given such a dangerous weapon.
A smile could not help but tug at Dahlia's mouth watching Anna's inner turmoil. She clearly was struggling to decipher if she could trust Dahlia or not.
'I swear to the goddess Freyja, to do no harm with that knife.' Dahlia confessed, trying to ease Anna's apprehension. Anna smiled in appreciation, softening at Dahlia's words she handed over the knife, eyes darting to make sure no one had witnessed her act of treason.
Dahlia immediately set to work, chopping at the leafy green, liquid cellulose staining her fingers. It made her feel useful to be able to help out and it eased her guilt for having harmed the sweet girl.
'Your husband wasn't horrified by your face?' Dahlia noseily inquired. 'I'm sure he has a few choice words for me.'
Anna laughed heartily, shaking her head. 'No, I do not have a husband.'
'Oh? A companion then?' Dahlia pondered. She had been lacking true interaction lately, being forced to attend to her captor, day and night, had left her feeling hollow and searching for more. Anna was so soft and innocent, perched on the edge of her seat, eyes bright with a wonder of the world. Dahlia leaned in closer, begging for a taste of her life.
'No companion either, but I am always searching for my one, my true love.' Anna gushed.
'True love?' Dahlia's brows furrowed, she had never heard of such an expression before.
'The fates have weaved the threads of my life with another. I know he is out there, somewhere, and one day when it is time we will be united and that day will be the most glorious day for I will know what it is to love, and to be loved.' Anna's eyes were wide with yearning for a man she had never met.
'Oh, I see.' Dahlia drew out slowly, processing the new information. 'And you believe that there is just one person made for you?' Dahlia quizzed, her stomach twisting at the thought. If there was truly only one person made for her, decided by the fates, then what had her time with Ozur meant? Or was she wasting precious breaths at Ubbe's side? Was she supposed to be back with Ozur? It made her head hurt thinking of all the possibilities. How was she supposed to know who was the one? Her relationship with Ozur had occurred naturally over time and there was no singular moment when she felt her heart thump in reaction to the sight of him. He was simultaneously her best friend and her lover. One morning she had declared her love for him when they were only fifteen and never looked back. It just happened.
And Ubbe, well he was a whole different feeling in her heart. She had been so angry with so many people for betraying her that when she had met him she only held resentment toward him. Now, she spent most evenings daydreaming about him, his touch, the way his calloused fingers would tenderly run over the expanse of her body or when he would catch her eye with a soft smile, as if he could read her every thought, just by looking at her. It made her stomach flip. If she let her mind wonder deep enough, while laying in bed at night, she could swear Ubbe was by her side touching her, holding her tight. He was the father of the child that grew slowly in her stomach and she felt a tug to be near him increasing with each day away from him.
'Yes, only one.' Anna nodded her head with certainty. 'And it will be the most epic love your heart has ever known.'
Dahlia pulled her lip between her teeth chewing at it fastidiously as she absorbed Anna's authority on love. She was so sure of herself that Dahlia had a wave of doubt rush over her in a hot heat.
A smile tugged at Anna's lips, eyes intent on the ground powder she had created. 'Though, I do not need to educate you on true love, Princess Dahlia, for you are living an epic saga of love.'
Dahlia gaped, her jaw dropped in wonder. How could there be a saga to tell when she was currently experiencing the tale as it was occuring? There was no story to be told. Her hand had been forced, she would not wish that on any woman.
Anna scooted closer to the edge of her seat, elbows perched on the table, hands brought to her heart as if she could hardly contain it from jumping out of her chest.
'A princess so wrought with love that she travelled across the seas to be with the man destined to father her children as the völva predicted. Nothing would stop her from being with her one true love. She killed her father when he denied her, and gave up her claim to the throne so that she could be with her prince.' Anna gushed, eyes far off and dreamy as she spoke. Dahlia checked her anger as Anna peered up at her with fascination, exhaling a slow stream of air out her nose.
Anna blushed at her outburst. 'But you know your own saga.'
Dahlia bobbed her head in silent agreement, not trusting her own mouth to not expel her own critical thoughts. Of course a highly romanticized version of her story would be relayed, nothing close to the truth, words used for people to entertain themselves with.
Dahlia forced a chuckle out of her throat, plastering a smile on her face to try to trick herself into being cheerful. The entire tale was a farce. She did not have to take it seriously.
'What else do they say?' Dahlia pressed through tight lips.
'That your prince wreaked havoc on Kattegat when he heard of your disappearance. That there is nothing that can be done to console him. He tried to kill Jarl Ings- Queen Lagertha in a fit of anger but could not, for the queen said she had put a curse on you, and if he killed her then you would die in the same moment. And he would not take the chance for he loves you too dearly to risk losing you.' Anna was practically bouncing in her seat as she retold the gossip. 'Oh, princess Dahlia, I just love a good love story, and yours is one of the most sincere.'
'That is very romantic.'
'It is.' Anna replied eagerly. 'Do you think he will come here to whisk you away?'
'I do not know what to think anymore.' Dahlia peered at her green stained fingers. She felt a strange sense of relief knowing that Ubbe had at least tried to achieve retribution against Lagertha for kidnapping her. What choice did he have? He had made a promise before the gods to protect her, his honor lay with her safety. It would be a lie if it did not make her heart quicken at the thought of him bursting through the door to sweep her off her feet. However it seemed unlikely the more she thought about it. Ubbe was too practical to do something so risky, not without a fully thought out plan.
In the end, she thought, she would just have to save herself. She was tired of waiting on men. As a daughter of Freyja, she would have to wield her own fate.
'Dahlia, it is time to reconvene.' Lagertha interrupted, hands resting on the young woman's shoulders pulling her attention away from the healer. Dahlia glanced up at Lagertha with a dark expression. The antagonist in her saga. The one keeping Dahlia and Ubbe apart, away from each other so that they were not able fulfill their destiny. If rumors were already spreading about the young couple this early in their relationship what would be said about Lagertha taking Dahlia hostage? What side of this story would Lagertha end up on? Lagertha thought she was doing good by keeping herself protected from the wrath of the oldest son of Aslaug but it would ultimately be the force that drove the knife deeper into the heart of Ubbe's hatred for Lagertha.
Dahlia slowly stood up, pushing herself up by the wooden plank table, following after Lagertha. She had barely taken two steps when the young healer clasped at Dahlia's wrist, stopping her.
'You still have my knife.'
Dahlia peered down at the wrist Anna had encaptured, the short knife clutched with white knuckles, and then at the sweet face of Anna.
'Oh, sorry I did not realize I still had it in my hand.' Dahlia dropped the knife, clattering onto the table.
Dahlia stalked away, finding her position behind the throne to wait on Lagertha, the Queen of Kattegat. A woman who was simultaneously her hero and her enemy.
Lagertha's private room in Hedeby's longhall was simple but elegant with large fur rugs covering the floor and dried flowers hanging off the walls. Scented candles left the room feeling warm and cozy. Dahlia did not mind ending her day there, helping Lagertha dress down for the evening. It was better than standing hours on end with no relief in sight. She hated serving wine. It had to be the worst task she had ever been given. She half wished that she had just agreed to help Lagertha with the production of the palisade wall. That was at least worthwhile even if it meant swimming in mud. She had watched the people of Kattegat struggle to move around the muddy ditches and slippery ladders. It did not look like fun but Dahlia was bored of serving. At least back home she could boss others around.
Home. Was Kattegat her home now? She wasn't sure, though her heart swelled at the thought of the bustling town. The salty smell of the ocean. A port filled with her new friends and her new family. Her husband and his annoying brothers. She missed picking on Sigurd and flirting with Hvitserk. Though, maybe she did not miss Ivar. She did not think she could ever miss him.
Her fingers nimbly twisted at the blonde strands of hair that were elaborately intertwined with the crown atop Lagertha's head. She lost herself in thought as her fingers worked mindlessly.
'You have settled well into life here at Hedeby.' Lagertha observed, peering at Dahlia through the vanity mirror. 'You have already made a friend.'
'I had many friends in Kattegat.' Dahlia chided softly, not looking up from her work.
'It is important to see how things are done in other places. We get so caught up in our own little worlds we forget to ask why we do things the way we do.' Lagertha surmised, chin resting on her hand as she talked.
'I'm not a stupid child, you cannot trick me into thinking this is for my benefit.' Dahlia huffed.
'You will not talk to me like that, Dahlia.' Lagertha warned. 'I am not your mother or your thrall. I am your queen.'
Dahlia barred her teeth, thinking of lashing out but held her tongue at the last moment. She had seen the way Lagertha dealt with disrespect. She highly valued her fingers. She stretched them out before her as a reminder, peering at them quickly before mumbling out an apology.
'Sorry, Queen Lagertha.'
The room was quiet as Dahlia worked, only the muffled sounds from the main hall filtering in.
Dahlia interrupted the silence with a stuttered inquiry. 'Do you believe there is one person in this world that we are meant to be with?'
She pulled the crown off, setting it carefully on the vanity table, eyes pulled to the jeweled metal. She felt self conscious and was not able to make eye contact with the older woman. She felt silly for asking but she could no longer get the thought out of her mind. If Ragni or her mother, Amma was around then she would ask them the question. Instead she only had Lagertha to help. Anna, the sweet innocent girl, had left her mind racing with questions. She wanted answers. Lagertha seemed to be an authority on love, she had lived through many forms of it over her years.
Lagertha watched Dahlia carefully, blue eyes piercing. 'If you would have asked me that many years ago I might have replied with a yes. Now,' Lagertha paused, her head bobbing back and forth in quiet contemplation. 'I am more fulfilled with the love my family and friends bring me.'
'So you do not think there is such a thing as the one?' Dahlia pushed back, wanting more concrete answers.
'A single person is not the answer. The answer is love itself. Love your family and your friends and that will bring you the joy you seek, not one man. No, men are just placeholders, they will come and go, but we will still fight on, always.' Lagertha claimed. She stood up, and Dahlia was reminded that Lagertha was shorter than her and she felt a rush of power having the queen tilt her chin up to peer at her.
'Pour me a cup of wine.' Lagertha demanded, nodding her head in the direction of the flagon. Dahlia swallowed her pride, doing as she was bid with teeth ground together in silent frustration.
'Why do you ask me these questions?' Lagertha implored. 'Is it because you miss your lover from home? Or is it Ubbe now that holds your heart so dearly?'
Dahlia kept her head bent silently fuming. She refused to give Lagertha the reaction she seeked.
Lagertha did not need Dahlia's attention as she traveled far off and distance, lost in another life. A place where she ended up with her one true love, Ragnar. To a time when she never left her tiny farm, where they were happy together just watching their children grow and tending to the land.
'Ubbe reminds me so much of his father. I can see why you have fallen for him.' Lagertha spoke dreamily, coming out of her head she gave Dahlia a long hard stare. 'But the heart is an untrustworthy thing. Do not fall for its lies.'
Lagertha watched Dahlia closely, taking in each curve of her face as she moved away. 'They say husbands need wives not only to bear them children but also for a loyal heart. You will give him one of those things soon. Will you give him the other? How deep does your loyalty run? I gave my entire heart to Ragnar when I was young but when that witch arrived in Kattegat pregnant with Ubbe-. I drew my line.'
'I am tired Queen Lagertha. What are you alluding to?' Dahlia asked, hands clasped before her in feigned patience.
'Ubbe freed one of my slaves, a woman named Margrethe.'
Dahlia swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She pushed her tongue to the top of her mouth, willing herself not to say a word. Internally her stomach flopped with jealousy and her heart raced in anger. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs.
Lagertha placed her cup down, taking a step into Dahlia with a long calculating stare at her sharp features.
'Why do you think he would do such a thing?' Lagertha tilted her head in question, though she seemed to have her own answer poised on the tip of her tongue.
Dahlia remained silent, refusing to play into her game. Lagertha licked her lips leaning in closer, a smug look on her face.
'I think it is so that he can marry her.'
'And I think it is to spite you.' Dahlia admitted, not able to hold her tongue. 'My husband is loyal to me.'
Dahlia's lips pulled into a tight line. Lagertha could see the defiance bright in her green eyes. The princess was young but she was smart. She was not to be swayed so easily.
Dahlia sighed, her head dropping. 'Can I be excused for the night?'
Lagertha nodded her head in consent and Dahlia stalked away with heavy feet, running away from Lagertha's hard truths.
Dahlia stalked the halls of Hedeby, headed to her room. She passed by two women, she recognized from earlier that day, who stopped talking the moment she neared, watching her with hooded eyes as she passed. It was another reminder of how alone she felt. A reminder that she had no one near to rest her head on. She missed her mother, Amma, and her servant, Ragni. They had always been by her side whenever she felt down. Even her new friends in Kattegat, Eda and Elin, would be a comfort. Eda, with her kind eyes, an expression of a mother who only wanted to help and Elin, with the soft smile of a loyal sister. She missed Ubbe who would have held her so tenderly, drying her eyes only to lift her chin giving her advice on how to exactly solve her problems.
Taking a sharp right turn she headed through the side door to the outside world. Inhaling a deep lung full of crisp air Dahlia tried to calm her senses. Her feet moved without thought, further and further away from the cold halls of Hedeby. She was lost in a dark tunnel of grief barely able to see past her own anger. Her mind was a whirlwind of spiteful thoughts. She searched for signs of the gods in her heart, hoping they could bring comfort to her lonely state but they stayed silent. Into a thick forest of pine trees she moved, not able to see their tops in the dark, her hand brushing along the sticky bark trying to find her way. The grass was wet from the icy rain that had poured down that day. The water soaked through her slippers freezing the tips of her toes but she ignored the feeling, moving forward.
Forward brought her to an open field, grasses blowing in the breeze brought off from a glimmering lake. The sight gave her a rush of relief. If it wasn't so cold she might dip in letting the water heal her like it always had in the past. She lifted her chin to take in the night sky only to have her breath stolen from her lips at the sight before. Above was an inky expanse littered with more stars than she had seen in her time at Kattegat. A green smudge materialized in the darkness, its tail wagging like a fish before disappearing, lost beneath the night's dark cloak. A purple glimmer followed, dancing after the green in a sort of game. The colors alternated in long shimmers of light, skipping, one after the other.
It was such a sight to behold Dahlia felt her knees grow weak, falling to the soft earth she watched in wonder.
It was the reflection of the Valkyries' armor as they raced across the sky to collect the fallen warriors slain in battle. They would bring them back to Valhalla to drink and sup with the gods.
Dahlia used to imagine, growing up, hearing the stories of the legendary shieldmaiden Lagertha, that she might be kin to the valkyries, beautiful and brave. A woman so talented on the battlefield that she had to be a noble spirit serving Odin.
Now she was not sure.
Lagertha was altogether perfect and flawed. She had lived a life struggling for acceptance and done what she had to do to get it.
Dahlia knew the feeling.
Of trying to make men see past her femininity one moment, and in another, using it to manipulate them into getting what she desired. A flash of a soft smile or sweet words whispered delicately into one's ear would cut deeper than any sword could.
Would her fate as Freyja's daughter, as a woman foretold to slain any man who met her in battle, be realized without Lagertha coming into her life?
Growing up, on her tiny island, Dahlia had been given all the opportunities to exceed as a shieldmaiden. She had excelled- or at least she thought she had excelled- until she met Lagertha. Lagertha had pushed her beyond her limits, made her realize her own strength, made her as powerful as any men. Quick and cunning, and more patient than any man. Without Lagertha arriving in her life exactly when she did, would she have been able to fulfill her destiny?
She did not know.
She felt as if she should be angry and upset with Lagertha for holding her as a hostage. Anger was a familiar feeling. It was the easiest emotion for her to understand, it was what fueled most of her dreams.
Being forced to watch Lagertha rule had been mind numbing and tiresome at first. Her fury had boiled endlessly for the woman who sat so perfectly in the throne. As she simmered down and listened to the words out of Lagertha's mouth she came to realize the importance of the way the queen talked.
She spoke with an air of influence, knowing that what she said was true, even when men argued with her. She was always true to herself. She did not change herself to be what others wanted her to be. She did not shy away or back down, always speaking with bright eyes and a clear voice.
A true leader.
A leader she hated. And admired in such a frustratingly annoying way that a huff of hot air escaped her lips. It billowed out before her curling in a soft smoke instantly disappearing in the cold night.
Winter was approaching.
A reminder of the baby that grew in her belly with each passing day. By the time summer came a child would be brought into this world. Her and Ubbe's child. An heir. A son. Just as the seer predicted.
Her fingers brushed against her still flat stomach, over the rough wool of her dress, lingering there as she thought fulfilling her destiny.
And Ubbe's destiny. He would sail to England in the spring with or without her. She had hoped that she would be by his side. More than anything she wanted to see this strange land she had only heard tales about.
She tried not to imagine Margrethe there with them but it was difficult to stop her imagination from flowing.
Margrethe, so pretty with delicate features and kind eyes. Everything Dahlia was not. Another pang of jealousy struck at her heart.
Having Margrethe around disrupted her plans. She needed Ubbe back in her bed so that he might turn his blessing on her, continue to help her destroy her uncle, and give her the power she needed. She hated admitting that she needed a man to accomplish her goals but without her husband she had nothing to her name.
She would have to formulate a way to get rid of Margrethe to bring Ubbe's attention back to her.
Producing a child would help, if she bore him a son there was no way he could deny her. Her hand curled around her belly at the thought.
A shout sounded in the distance, startling Dahlia. Her head swiveled, she was alone, for the first time since arriving at Hedeby. No guards or warriors had followed her in her attempt to have a breath of fresh air to calm her buzzing mind.
She cursed to herself under her breath. If she had not been so self involved she could have taken advantage of the slip up and attempted an escape.
Another shout echoed and the sounds of rushing of bodies neared, bringing Dahlia to her feet. She could leave, escape before they caught her trail. If she started running now it would be too late for them to find her once they fully became aware of her absence.
A pang stung at her abdomen, causing her to crouch over in pain. She felt a wet trickle run down the inside of her thighs. Exhaling slowly through her nose she pulled at her dress, fingers sliding along to her core. Bringing her fingers out before her, she peered at her hand in fascination. Even in the green glimmering lights that were casting strange shadows all around her she knew that it was blood coating the tips of her fingers.
Her mind numbed and her body froze. The baby. It had been something so easy to disconnect with, it was just a thing to create stronger alliances, it wasn't really there but now she felt her world crashing around her at the lost.
She rubbed her fingers together, feeling the slick blood between the pads of her fingers. Glancing up at the green rods of lights that danced in the sky she wondered if the valkyries would take her child to Valhalla.