Ubbe slid through the oak door silently. His footsteps light on the floor as he maneuvered across the hall. It was late, the moon had risen to its highest point and filtered through the open windows casting dull shadows on the chairs and tables scattered around. No one was awake this late in the night, not that it eased Ubbe's anxiety. He was uncertain where they were keeping Dahlia, increasing the possibility of being caught. The hood of his cloak was pulled up over his head hoping that it would add a layer of disguise in case he did stumble into the wrong room.

The fires in the hearths had all been extinguished and only the few sconces blazing along the walls gave him any direction in the deserted hall. It had been many years since he had walked through the halls of Hedeby. When he was younger he would travel with Bjorn across the grassy plains to spend a month in early spring training with his older brother. Their axes and swords clashing against one another in mock battle, sweat dripping off their foreheads as their bodies heaved and thrashed trying to take down the other. The memory forced a smile to tug at the corner of his mouth. Lagertha would be there too, fighting alongside her son, practicing with her shieldmaidens and warriors, getting in shape for the upcoming raiding season after a long winter spent huddling around fires. He had always admired her for her prowess on the battlefield, the way she moved around the swipe of a sword or dodged a swinging ax. It reminded him of a dancer whose feet and body moved so fluidly. Even as he fought to this day he tried to emulate the same rhythm.

Distracted by his own thoughts Ubbe ran his knee into a low bench. He caught the lightweight bench before it could crash down onto the floor. A string of curse words were lost in his mouth as he bit down on his tongue refusing to be discovered because of his foolishness. Straightening his back he exhaled a huff of air through his nose, relaxing his shoulders as he did so. He took a moment to take in his surroundings, frustrated that he had been so easily distracted.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light as they scanned the room, fixating on the throne situated in the corner. A dark mass was curled up on the wide seat. Ubbe blinked, his eyes adjusting to see if the shadows were playing tricks on him. He moved in closer, curious to know what it was.

Dahlia shivered, the blood coating her had cooled, drying on her skin and the thin material of her shift. She pulled the corners of the wolf pelt tighter around her shoulders as a chill ran through her body. The elixir the healers has forced her to drink made the dark shadows of the night form into strange beings. They lunged out at her, snapping their large jaws and licking their salivating lips as they moved in closer.

It was supposed to aid in reducing the pain but Dahlia doubted its effects. There was nothing in all of Midgard that could lessen the agony of losing a child.

Tears had gushed out of Dahlia's eyes and racking sobs shook tremors through her body when the healers informed her that she had lost the child. She had screamed until her throat was raw. When she could no longer use her voice she lashed out at the nearest thrall scratching and clawing at her face. They had to forcibly hold her to the ground as they pried open her mouth pouring the warm liquid in. It had temporarily soothed her throat and not long after she fell fast asleep in a peaceful slumber.

Hours later she woke up, alone on her bed, a large grey wolf's pelt wrapped around her body, the bloodied shift still clinging to her womb. Her limbs felt heavy as she dragged herself out of bed.

She needed out, away from the memories that haunted her. Feeling weak and tired she only made it to the main room of the long hall before her knees gave out. She dragged herself onto the high backed chair Lagertha used as her throne. It was not as large or elaborate as the one in Kattegat but it was still a sight and drew the eyes of any who entered the hall.

Pulling her knees to her chest she hugged at them, trying to find warmth. The shadows moved in closer, surroundings her. They whispered words of death and evil into her ear. She shivered uncontrollably even with the wolf pelt tightly wrapped around her body. Her mind wandered to draugr, the undead creatures that walked this world, wreaking havoc on the living. Their bodies decaying and dragging slowly through the night.

Her breath caught in her throat as the creatures moved in closer. She buried her head into her knees, eyes squeezed shut trying to force the images out of her mind. It was only a story Ragni had told her as a child, to scare her into behaving. There was no reason to be frightened.

'Dahlia.' A voice growled out in a whisper. She jumped, startled by the noise. Biting down on her lip, a scream threatened to spill out, she slowly lifted her head, her eyes peeking out around her knees. The draugr crept in closer, its cloak fluttering around its long legs as it approached. Dahlia whimpered scuffling back deep into the chair, too weak to flee from the creature. It's hand thrusts out trying to touch her face. Her mouth opened to let out a frightened scream but nothing escaped, only a muffled groan. She had lost her voice.

The hand caressed her temple, warm fingers running down the side of her face to her jaw. It lifted her chin tenderly so that she was forced to look it in the eyes.

Those eyes. Crystalline blue, bright with worry filtered down onto her.

'Ubbe.' She breathed out his name in a broken whisper. Her legs unfolded on the seat, she thrust herself up, into his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck as he caught her by the waist. Her body gave way, knees weak she collapsed but he was there to support her weight in his arms. As he pulled away from her embrace he gently lowered her back down to sit.

She looked small and frail by the oversized chair with its tall wooden frame and large armrests. Ubbe cradled her head in his palm searching her face, trying to catch her eyes but they were downcast, refusing to meet his look.

'Are you hurt?' Ubbe whispered as his eyes darted around the dark room, hoping their commotion had not woken anyone. Satisfied that they were still alone he brought his attention back to Dahlia. His hands ran along her face noticing the healing cut above her brow, he leaned forward kissing it tenderly. He could only imagine the fight she had put up when they had taken her, it would not have been easy.

A smile tugged at his lips at the thought. His eyes ran along her neck to her chest and he pushed back the pelt at her shoulders.

'Tell me you are okay.' Ubbe demanded uneasily, his tongue darted out, running across his lips when Dahlia still would not meet his eyes. She was being unusually bashful. He peeled the pelt away from her lap, his eyes following down to her belly where the dark stain of blood dried between her legs.

His eyes casted back to Dahlia's face, his brow wrinkled in concern. Lagertha had told him that Dahlia was pregnant with his child but he had never gotten the chance to hear it from her mouth. Tears ran freely down her cheeks as she reluctantly met his gaze.

'The gods have cursed me, Ubbe.' Dahlia cried, her voice cracking. 'Freyja has abandoned me.'

Ubbe fingers slid through her hair pulling her in by the back of her head, bringing her in closer.

'If you are cursed by the gods then so am I. We are bound, you and I, the fates have tied the knots. I should have come sooner but I am here now. You are leaving with me. I will not let you go until Ragnarök.'

Dahlia's eyes were downcast and distant, refusing to look up at Ubbe, tears silently running down her cheeks. Ubbe brushed her wet jaw with warm fingers before pulling her into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her back holding her flush against him. The other looping under her knees he lifted her up leaving the long hall and all its dark shadows.

Outside Hedeby's long hall Faxi waited patiently as Ubbe hoisted Dahlia up with a lift of her knee. He stepped up behind her, and when he settled in the saddle he reached out, taking the leather reins out of her hands. Her fingers clenched at his touch, she exhaled deeply through her nose before releasing her grip.

Ubbe adjusted the length of the reins in his hands, trying to ignore Dahlia's reluctance to be near him. His number one priority was to get them to safety, he did not have the mind to question Dahlia's cold shoulder. With the edge of his heel he nudged the horse into a walk and when he was sure that he had Dahlia secure in his arms he spurred Faxi into a gallop. He was in survival mode. He would worry about the death of his child later. He would worry about the hatred running deep in Dahlia's bones for him later. His only concern in that moment was to put as much distance between them and Hedeby before anyone noticed Dahlia's absence.

He wondered if they would go as far as to send the hounds after them. He doubted it. If they were smart they would know where to look.

Kattegat.

Home.

They would be safe there. He knew it, as did Lagertha, which was why she had chosen to silently sweep Dahlia away and not inform the townspeople of her plan.

Hostages were negotiated; prisoners were taken.

Dahlia shook with cold in his arms, he had given up his cloak and draped the pelt over her legs but it still did not help. Her feet were bare, there had been no time to grab her a pair of shoes before they left, and the shift she wore was thin offering no warmth. He moved the reins into one hand the other wrapped around her midsection forcing her weight into his chest, trying to share his warmth with her.

She fell into him easily enough but was rigid under his touch. He was reminded of when they first met and any time his fingers even brushed her skin she would pull back as if she had been burned by the fire.

A few strides into riding in this position Dahlia jerke away, sitting up straight in the saddle.

'I cannot ride like this.' She complained as she tried brushing away Ubbe's fingers.

'Yes you can.' Ubbe growled in her ear, he crossed an arm over her chest forcing her back against him. 'I have seen you ride that heated mare of yours. You can.' Ubbe chided, in her weakened state Dahlia did not put up a fight. He wondered how long that would last.

It was dark but the moonlight outlined the edges of their bodies and he could see her fingers clench together, as if she did not know where to place her hands. He dropped his hand down to hers and intertwined them together.

He murmured into her ear. 'I was lost without you.' He confessed, glad that she could not see his face because he was certain his cheeks were flushed.

Dahlia gasped, her breath catching in her throat. She reached out tugging the reins out of Ubbe's hand bringing Faxi's head around to her knee in.

'What are you doing?' Dahlia demanded, her words only coming out in a harsh whisper, almost lost in the soft breeze that pushed her hair away from her face.

She threw her leg over Faxi's neck and hopped to the ground before the horse had come to a full stop. Wet grass squished under her bare feet, mud sinking between her toes.

'I just lost our child!' Dahlia tried to tell but her voice ragged under the force, only came to a high pitched screetch. Ubbe's brow furrowed but he nudged Faxi on, into a trot, taking him in tight circles surrounding Dahlia. He was irritated with her stalling, they needed to move, not fight. They could argue when they were safely at home. They could mourn the loss of their child then, not now.

She followed him with her body but soon grew dizzy and instead held her ground, arms crossed over her chest as her eyes followed Ubbe as he passed. The cold wet ground seeped up her toes to her calves spreading an icy chill in her bones. She was hardly aware of the feeling as anger boiled hot in her chest.

'And we will create more.' Ubbe replied, his blue eyes catching in the moonlight, they were dark, full of passion and anger. The same anger Dahlia felt. The gods had turned their backs on them even though they had tried to appease them. 'We will have so many children until we have our own horde and then the gods will not be able to ignore us.'

Dahlia huffed in annoyance. Ubbe continued to move Faxi around her and eventually her arms dropped from her chest and he stopped his horse turning into her.

'Why did you not come sooner?' Dahlia's voice caught in her throat. It burned from all her yelling, she was surprised to find that she still had use of it but it seemed the gods wanted her to get her words out. 'I waited for you, like a fool.'

Ubbe was off Faxi in a swift motion. On her in two long strides, his hands rushing the sides of her head to entangle them deep in her hair. He brought his lips to hers but he hovered above the soft skin of her lips not able to make contact. His heart was racing and everything inside of him begged him to solve their problem with a heated kiss but it also felt wrong. He did not deserve the touch of her lips against his, he had done nothing recently to be rewarded in such a way. His eyes squeezed shut, forehead resting against hers, trying to steady himself.

Pulling away, he searched her face, his brow furrowed and lips down turned, seeking the permission he longed to see in her eyes, telling him that it was okay, that everything would be fine between them. He could not find such reassurance so easily, he would have to work harder than that. He licked at his lips, opening his mouth to profess a list of excuses that had kept him away but the words were lost in his throat as he watched fresh tears escape Dahlia's ryes.

'I was afraid.' Ubbe whispered, not daring to pull his eyes away from her tears, his pain slipping down her cheeks with each breath, he could not look away.

A choked laughter escaped through Dahlia's nose, puffing out her lips. She brought a hand to her mouth embarrassed at the sound that escaped.

Dahlia let out a cruel laughter. 'You are telling me that, you, Ubbe, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, were afraid? I do not believe that.' Dahlia had a snide smile pulling at the corner of her wet lips, her cheeks stained with tears. She looked frightening in the moonlight, like a witch.

Ubbe sniffed, his lip purling in a snarl. 'Yes,' He growled in reply, his eyes rolling with annoyance. 'Me, Ubbe, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, was scared.'

'Of what?' Dahlia demanded pulling herself away from him embrace, distrust leaking from every pore.

'That I would lose you.' Ubbe admitted in a soft whisper.

Dahlia stared wide eyed as her chest heaved at his confession. She took a half step back, wanting to escape his words, like she always did.

'Why? Why not just be done with me?' She demanded in a tight lipped growl, hands clenched tight on her waist.

'Because I thought you might be worth saving.' Ubbe argued. He searched her face one last time, scowling at her hot headed nature, her blazing green eyes, scowling red lips. He was tired of arguing. When would she just believe that he cared for her? With a shake of his head he grabbed at her waist, abruptly twisting her away so that her back was to him. She gave a half hearted cry of protest but he ignored her. Instead he carelessly tossed her on to Faxi's back.

'The gods have punished me because I broke my promise to protect you Dahlia. I will not make the same mistake again. You are mine. I won't let you go so easily.' Ubbe asserted.

Dahlia scrambled to throw her leg around the horse, tugging on Faxi's mane for leverage. Ubbe waited on the ground, his hands resting at his sword belt as Dahlia straightened her shift and his cloak. He picked up the discarded pelt off the ground, gently tucking it around her legs, attentive to its placement, fidgeting with it restlessly until Dahlia's fingers smoothed over his, ceasing all movement. His eyes slowly made their way to her inquisitive stare.

'I am sorry for not coming sooner. Will you ever be able to forgive me?' Ubbe whispered, softening under her gaze.

Dahlia opened her mouth but no words came out, not because her throat ached but because for once she felt a loss for words. Could she forgive him?

Ubbe stepped up in the stirrup, aware of Dahlia's hesitation to answer. He settled in the saddle, taking control of the reins, he nudged Faxi east with a flick of his wrist.

'Where are we going?' Dahlia asked, confusion laced in her voice. Ubbe leaned forward, his chest bumping against her back. He craned his neck around till he could tenderly place a kiss on her ruddy cheek, stained from the cold wind and her tears.

'To heal.'

They travelled through the night with only the stars to lead the way. Dahlia faded in and out of sleep, her head resting against Ubbe's shoulder. He held her close, adjusting her body when she rocked too far forward. He worried about her state, if he had pushed her too hard after such a traumatic event. Dahlia was strong, he reminded himself, stronger than any other woman he had met.

He too wanted to fall asleep, the soft rocking of Faxi's gait lulling him in a deep trance. The pale light of the dawn is what brought him out of his sleepy state. He shifted restlessly in the saddle taking in the shadows of the forest that surrounded them. Tall trees towered over them, green with subtle hints of gold and red peaking throughout the forest. Fall was quickly approaching. The Harvest moon would appear soon. With blurry eyes he could see just beyond the trees to an open plain. Boulders jutted out randomly through the marsh, large and imposing like sleeping giants. Grasses turned brown for the season twisted in the breeze brought in by the river. Steam billowed up at one corner of the water's edge.

With one arm wrapped snug around Dahlia's waist, he lifted the other, pointing in the direction of the steam. 'We are headed there.' He whispered into her ear. 'It is a hot spring.' He husked when she did not reply. He peered down at her wondering if was talking to himself. Her eyes were sealed, pulled into a deeper state than sleep, her lips dry and chapped, all color was washed from her features, and sweat pooled at her hairline. He cursed silently to himself, grasping her jaw between his fingers he tilted her neck back taking in her pale face. Her skin burned under his touch.

Reining Faxi in to a halt Ubbe jumped down to the moss covered ground, pulling a swaying Dahlia into his arms. He crouched to his heels, cradling her closely, trying to give off some of his heat but still she shivered uncontrollably.

He wished vehemently that he had just headed home, to Kattegat, not been so foolish to try to romantically woe his wife into forgiving him. It seemed the most logical choice at the time. Dahlia had been so upset with him, angry that he had not come to her rescue sooner, he wanted to show her that he had missed her dearly. To tell her that he had thought about her every waking moment, even in his dreams she haunted him. If she died now...no, he could not even consider that as an option.

He tenderly placed her amongst the mossy slope, tugging the cloak and the wolf pelt tight about her body. On his feet he went to his saddle bags hastily rummaging about for the skin of water. He pushed aside the useless items inside, worrying that he had not brought any water in his rushed state to leave Kattegat. Finally he found what he was looking for, he returned to Dahlia's side, kneeling low. She mumbled incoherently as Ubbe brought the opening to her chapped lips.

'Here, drink this, you will feel better.' He whispered, cupping the back of her head lifting her up to accept the water. She mutely took a small sip, eyes briefly cracking open to take in Ubbe, they were glazed in a hazy fog, unseeing and fargone. He wiped at the drops that fell down her chin before taking a drink for himself. Head dropped low, his mind raced to the options at hand.

He could turn back to Hedeby, begging for help from his mother's murderer and Dahlia's captor.

Or travel tirelessly to Kattegat, which would take at least two days without stopping. He wasn't sure if Dahlia could make it that long without care.

Or they could stay camped here, with little provisions or shelter hoping she pushed past the fever.

He growled heartily not seeing many viable options. He wondered what more the gods could throw at him.

Answering his curiosity the tip of a blade pressed against the curve of his neck, breaking the skin, blood trickled down to his collarbone. Forgein words filtered into one ear, slowly processed in his brain and tumbled out the other ear in the string of harsh accusations.

'What are you doing in our forest?' A gravelly voice growled.

Sami.

Ubbe's lip pulled into a snarl, angry with himself for being caught so unaware and with a tribe that held a significant amount of negative animosity for his people, and vice versa. Tipping his chin back he tried to assess the threat, his eyes slowly dragging along each man taking in their numbers carefully. Even armed with sword and axe and knife he stood no chance against the many men who had materialized like smoke.

The man with the knife shoved at Ubbe's shoulder forcing him to his knees, cold mud soaked through his pants. He sat back on his heels taking in the arguing men. They were pointing back and forth trying to decide if it was better to take them hostage or kill them. Wiping his muddy hands together, Ubbe moved to stand up, he would explain to them that he had gold to offer if they gave him and Dahlia safe passage. Quick to react to his sudden movements a few Sami appeared at his side grasping at his arms hauling him to his feet. They disarmed him, pulling at his sword and belt taking it for their own. His large skinning knife twirled between a young man's fingers before it slipped into his belt. His ax was ascertained before he could reach for it, his last defense. Suddenly he felt very vulnerable. He longed for his brothers, Hvitserk or Sigurd to have at his back, then maybe he could see an escape in his future. For now he would be at their mercy.

Dahlia whimpered deliriously from the ground. Instinctively he reached out for her, barley taking half of a step before he was blocked. A growl rumbled deep within his chest at the blonde haired man who tried to get in his way. Ubbe gave him his best wide eyed glare, sharp and meaningful. He worked his jaw as he tried to calm his ire. With a short shake of his head he motioned to the man to step down. He would rather die than let Dahlia be taken so easily from him again. The man faltered, stepping aside to let Ubbe pass.

Crouching down on his heels Ubbe brushed a wild strand of hair from her hot forehead. He grimaced at the increase in temperature.

'She needs help. She is sick.' Ubbe pleaded in their language looking toward the man with the knife. The words sounded childish and broken in his ears. It had been years since he had to use it to communicate.

The man with the knife, and short cropped strands of graying hair and long beard, seemed to understand what he was trying to say. He motioned to a few men lingering on the edges of the group and then to Dahlia, his words too rushed for Ubbe to understand. Nodding their heads they left, only to return a few moments later pulling a small wooden sled behind them.

Ubbe shifted uneasily on his feet as they lifted Dahlia into the sled, hoping that their intentions were pure. He had no choice but to trust them as he was shoved forward to follow the procession of Sami men.

It did not take long to arrive at the makeshift village that was the Sami's temporary home. As nomadic tribe they were always on the move, never calling one location home for long. It bustled with children running around, women and men hefting large bones of meat into smoke tents or tending to animals. There were only five or six tent structures, all created from massive pine tree poles that were covered with an assortment of furs, mostly from reindeer. They were all so busy with their otherwise normal day that they were startled to see a tall Norse man walk so casually into their lives. Most stopped what they were doing to examine Ubbe's long imposing frame but he ignored their curious looks, keeping his eyes intent on his wife who was being maneuvered towards a small tent.

A man shouted at the entrance of the tent and two women rushed out, hands caressing at Dahlia's burning face, fingers inspecting the rest of her body for injuries. They quickly came upon her bloodied shift, knowing looks passed between the two at their discovery and the older female ushered the man who was pulling the sled into the tent, Dahlia disappearing within.

Ubbe was corralled in the opposite direction, spears poking at his back, as if they were trying to tame a wild beast. He hissed in open objection, reluctantly stepping through the threshold of the large circular tent, ducking in the entrance to make room for his tall frame. The birch twigs that made up the floor, concealed by reindeer pelts, crunched under foot. A fire central in the room kept the area warm, smoke tendrils twisting up toward the smoke hole at the top of the tent. A stout man with hair hidden beneath a bright blue square hat and shaved face sat on top of a plush pillow near the fire. The man nodded his head in greeting motioning to Ubbe to sit across from him. Two women were in the corner mending clothes but moved to fetch a flagon and cup upon Ubbe entering, offering him a drink. Ubbe nodded his head in thanks, taking a short sip, he eyed the man across the fire. He wanted to say something, anything; to ask where they had taken Dahlia or why they took his weapons, but the words failed on his lips. The Sami people had a dozen different dialects, each one so different from the other that he was unsure where to start.

Ubbe cleared his throat, he crouched down low on his heels peering intently at the man across the fire. 'Where is-' He paused, mouth twisting searching for the words he wanted. 'My wife?' He inquired, giving the man a hard stare. He felt so vulnerable without his weapons. He wondered if he should just end the small talk and storm into the tent where they took Dahlia and demand her back.

The Sami man smiled softly at Ubbe's strained words, eyes bright with curiosity.

'My healers are taking care of her.' He replied in Norse.

Ubbe nodded his head in understanding but did not relax, instead he straightened back to his full height and took to pacing the length of the tent, drink forgotten, he rubbed his hands irritatedly together.

The man watched him in silent curiosity before he introduced himself. 'I am Arne Ericksson, leader of this tribe.'

Ubbe continued to pace, hardly hearing the buzz of words out of Arne's mouth. His mind was lost on Dahlia.

'Tell me your name, Norseman and I will offer you and your wife my hospitality.'

Turning on his heel, Ubbe halted, hands clasped before him he addressed Arne.

'Ubbe, son of Ragnar Lothbrok.'

Arne smiled like a cat who had caught the canary and Ubbe wondered if he should have lied and given another name. His father was either loved or hated depending on the person.

'I will swear to you, Ubbe Ragnarsson, that she will be well taken care of but you must in turn do something for me.' Arne instructed, pointing to the plush pillows.

'Sit.' Arne commanded authoritatively. Ubbe felt his lip pull into a snarl, he was not used to being ordered around. He was starting to feel like a caged animal that was being poked, ready to snap at any moment. Eyeing the pillows and then Arne in quiet deliberation, he settled on ground, not seeing any other alternative to his predicament.

The Sami community was generous, offering Ubbe food and drink and a warm place to sleep but still they would not let him see Dahlia.

She was sick.

She needed rest.

That was all they would tell him in the few Norse words they knew. He wanted to ask more questions but the language barrier was confining to the conversation.

Arne had promised her safety on the condition that Ubbe, when he returned to Kattegat, would speak on their behalf to Queen Lagertha about the taxes imposed on them. The tribe was being taxed by both Queen Lagertha and King Harold. It was unsustainable and the tribe struggled because of it. Ubbe had gruffly agreed to speak with Lagertha on the matter, though the idea of having to be in the same room as her made his blood boil. Arne warned that if he did not hold up his end of the bargain that the gods would know his betrayal, and though they did not believe in the same gods Ubbe did not argue. He would keep to his end of the deal he promised, he was done with the business of testing the gods. He had one goal from here on out, to protect Dahlia, and that meant appeasing the gods.

Two nights passed and on the eve of the third Arne's wife, Sif, and daughter, Flora, updated him on the progress of Dahlia's health.

'She is not doing well.' Sif admitted, her head bent in concentration to the food she spooned out into a wooden bowl. Flora bit at her lip in sync with her mother's honest words. They weighed heavy on Ubbe's chest. When she offered him the bowl he shook his head rejecting the food.

'What can be done?' Ubbe urged.

'Nothing, we can only pray to the gods.' Sif conceded without much thought, handed the bowl over to her husband who hummed in quiet dissent to the bad news.

Ubbe chewed at his gums, feeling utterly helpless. He still had not been given back his weapons and now his wife, the one person he had promised the gods he would protect, was dying. His chest felt tight and suddenly he could not breath in the smoke filled room. He shot to his feet stumbling out of the tent in a blur of colors and sounds.

He walked without thought, letting his legs carry him wherever they pleased. The night air was cold and would have left him chilled without his cloak but his mind was so far away he was not bothered by such earthly feelings. He felt as if the gods carried him afloat above his body watching a troubled man make his way through an unknown forest.

A rock caught his foot tossing him forward onto his knees and a fallen branch caught his fall by the palm of his hand. He hissed in pain when the branch sliced through the skin.

Physical pain.

He sighed in acceptance of the reaction. He had been here before, in tune with the burning of his muscles as he heaved his ax or the straining of tendons when he pulled at his bow a hundred times in one setting, the breaking of his skin when practicing sword play with his brothers. He watched in mute fascination as blood rolled down his wrist and into the sleeve of his tunic. He could harness on to that feeling and not the one that wanted to grab a hold of his heart, and stomach and chest. It wanted to tear him apart piece by piece. What was worse he did not know where to begin to address the enemy causing this reaction. He had always known who his enemy was; the Saxons who killed his father, the Franks, his uncle Rollo, the Sami, other rival Norse tribes, Lagertha even.

It had all been so simple and now he had no one to blame. He was violently angry but there was no one to express his anger on to. It was maddening. He had never felt this way before.

A twig snapped, bringing him out of his tormented mind. He spun on his heel to find Flora, out of breath and calling his name.

'Do not sneak up on me like that.' He chided, running a hand over the expanse of his face, trying to calm his nerves.

'I did not sneak up on you. I've been calling for you for ages.' Flora disclosed with a hint of attitude. She stubbornly placed small hands on her hips. She reminded Ubbe of Brandr, only a few years older and full of ideas of their own, exhausted of having to comply with their parents' demands, ready to live a life of their own but still so many years away from being able to accomplish such a task alone.

'Come with me.' She announced, tugging on the sleeve of his tunic, headed back in the direction of her home. 'I want to show you something.'

Sweat poured down Dahlia's exposed chest as if it was a hot summer day. Her eyelids were sealed shut with a rapid movement behind them. Her breathing was shallow and uneven in her deep state of sleep.

'She is lost in another world.' Flora mumbled, crouching down next to Ubbe. He caressed Dahlia's cold hand in his, staring at the fine bones of her fingers too afraid to look at her face.

'She needs help coming back to our world. She calls out for you in her sleep. I think you are the only one who can save her. If not-' Flora trailed off. Ubbe did not need her to finish her thought to understand the ending.

He stood up, taking in the shadows of the tent. He could feel the presence of the strange gods the Sami worshipped, hovering over him like dark demons in the night. It was not right. It was no wonder Dahlia could not heal in this foreign place with shamans who spoke in a strange language that did not translate in her mind. She must be scared and frightened, not knowing how to escape.

He motioned at the darkly dressed shaman to leave. He had been crouching in the corner, hissing in a string of objections to Ubbe's presence the moment he entered the tent. The shaman's two female assistants followed, the animal bones they wore about their necks clanking as they hurriedly moved after him, not wanting to be left with the large Norseman.

Ubbe relaxed when they were out of sight. He thanked Flora and then asked her to bring them fresh water and food. He was no healer but if everyone else had given up hope on Dahlia living he could at least try to coax her back into this world with one last effort.

'You have to come back to me.' He whispered to Dahlia, once Flora had left him alone in the tent. He squeezed her hand tenderly, bones crushing under the force. 'I don't know what to do without you.' His breath caught in his throat as tears slipped down his cheeks.

'I want to talk with you about our son that never was. Would he look like you or walk like me? I want to imagine what it would have been like to hold him in my arms, what it would have been like to love him. Because I do already love him though I've never met him and I do not know what to do about it. This feeling, this missing hole in my chest. I cannot do it alone. I need you by my side. For I know your heart aches as much as mine for something I never really possessed. Come back to me and we will fight this feeling of heartbreak together.' He demanded through a rush of tears, his head falling resting on her chest as he cried over what they had lost.