I am so, so, so, so sorry for the wait on this one! Real life has been so absurdly busy/crazy the past few months that I haven't had much time to write, not to mention that I had a bit of writer's block on this story! I've learned not to promise frequent updates, but know that I'm not discontinuing it or anything of that sort, so stick with me! Thank for reading, and thanks for your support!
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Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Vikings!
Chapter Eight
That evening, long after the victorious army had trudged back to the farmhouse to rest and tend to the wounded, Signe sat underneath her and her brothers' tent, silently staring down at Gunnar's pale face with sadness in her eyes. The cheers of those celebrating their win did not register in her ears, nor did she find any warmth from the fire that Hallsteinn had built some time ago, even though it crackled and popped barely a foot away. With a long sigh, Signe reached out and took Gunnar's clammy, lax hand within her own, squeezing it tightly. Even though she desperately wanted him to, he did not squeeze back.
As impossible as it was to believe, Gunnar was still alive. But only barely so.
He had been so pale and so still that when they initially found him on the battlefield, both Signe and Garik had believed him to be dead. Yet Hallsteinn, who, for once, had been the most levelheaded of them all, had refused to believe it and pushed his distraught siblings out of the way so he could inspect their fallen brother closer. When Hallsteinn then urgently announced that Gunnar was still breathing, Signe had been so shocked that, at first, she almost thought he was lying or playing an unforgivably cruel joke on them. But she had forced herself to calm down and studied Gunnar closer – though the movements were shallow and practically unnoticeable, she had seen that his chest was indeed rising and falling, a sign that there was still life their brother's battered body.
Everything was a little hazy after that. She remembered thinking about the pack of healing supplies she'd brought along for the trip, then cursing herself upon realizing she'd forgotten to bring it in the rush to leave for battle. Signe remembered how she, Garik, and Hallsteinn had all torn at their own clothes, ripping off strips from their tunics and using the dirty cloth as makeshift bandages for Gunnar's wounds. When the time had come to carry him back to the farmhouse with the rest of the wounded, she remembered someone offering his cloak so that they could place Gunnar on it and carry him back with more ease. After a long trudge back to the farmhouse that Signe could barely even recall, they had then brought Gunnar to their tent, where they had been tending to him ever since.
Signe finally pulled her eyes away from Gunnar long enough to look at his twin, Garik. The strain of the fight and the emotional turmoil over his brother's grievous injuries had finally taken its toll, forcing his exhausted body – and mind – into a fitful slumber. He looked as distressed in sleep as he had when awake, with his eyebrows furrowed together in consternation and his lips turned downward into a deep frown. Garik shifted in his sleep, mumbled something under his breath, then turned a bit toward his injured twin. When he settled again, it was with a heavy, troubled heave.
Signe sighed, feeling a swell of sympathy for Garik. She then let her eyes drop back down to Gunnar, who was motionless as ever. Signe leaned forward and smoothed his short, blonde hair away from his forehead with her free hand, wishing he would open his eyes and look at her whilst simultaneously fearful that he may never do so again. Gunnar was alive now, yes, but with how bad of shape he was in, it was entirely too possible that he might not be for much longer. She had used whatever supplies and knowledge she had available to tend to his wounds and try to get him on the path to recovery, pushing her own exhaustion and pain away and working until her limbs and fingers felt numb – there was nothing more to do now but wait. Wait, pray to the Gods for mercy, and hope that Gunnar somehow found the strength within to keep living.
"Fight, Gunnar," Signe said lowly, leaning over to say the words directly in his ear, hoping that he could still hear her from whatever dream world he was currently in. "Do not give in. You are strong," she added, squeezing his hand for emphasis. "You can survive this, my brother. I know you can."
She pressed a kiss to Gunnar's forehead, then sat back on her heels again. Hating the chill that had settled over him, Signe gently released his hand so she could reach for his blanket and place it over him, hoping it might bring some warmth back to his body. As she leaned over to grab the woolen cloth, however, her eyes landed on something underneath Gunnar's head that she had not noticed until now. Something that did not belong to her or her brothers. Something which had her eyebrows coming together in slight confusion.
It was an animal pelt – a wolf pelt, to be exact.
Signe leaned forward again and ran her hand over the soft fur, which was attached to the cloak they had used to carry Gunnar back to the camp, the very cloak he was still lying on top of. Signe studied the fine pelt for a moment then let her fingers wander to the bit of red fabric sticking out from underneath Gunnar's body, feeling as though she had seen the cloak somewhere before.
With a start, she realized she had seen it before. It had been on Torstein's broad back the first time they had spoken to one another. Signe's eyebrows rose a bit in surprise – it had been he who had given his cloak to them when they were trying to determine how best to carry Gunnar back, only Signe had been so distraught over her brother at the time that she had not bothered to see who had made the generous offer. Immediately she felt guilty for not acknowledging Torstein or his kind offer earlier. After what he'd done for her in that battle, he deserved more respect than that. She vowed to thank him as soon as she saw him, and that she would do her best to clean his cloak and return it to him as soon as she had the chance.
The sound of footsteps broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present. She pulled her hand from the cloak and turned, hoping it was Hallsteinn coming to rejoin them – he'd wandered off with a skin of ale some time ago, looking shaken to the core by the very real possibility of losing Gunnar and as though he had every intention of numbing his pain with copious amounts of alcohol. Signe hadn't approved of his decision to drink his problems away, thinking he needed to be there with them and be sober should things take a turn for the worst. But it hadn't been her place to tell Hallsteinn what to do, either, so she had let him go.
To her momentary disappointment, she saw that it wasn't Hallsteinn approaching their tent after all. But when she recognized the familiar face coming toward her, she forgot her disappointment and felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders.
"I brought you food," Bjorn said in a gentle tone, walking past the fire and ducking underneath the shelter of the canopy without waiting to be invited. He stopped in front of Signe and extended a bowl of what looked like boiled oats down to her, eyebrows raised expectantly. He had long since washed the blood off of his skin, but evidence of the battle they'd fought in still took form in the few small cuts and sporadic bruises on his neck and face. "Take it," he urged, holding the bowl out even further. "You need to eat."
When Signe did not move to accept the food and turned her gaze back down to Gunnar without saying a word, Bjorn sighed. He brought the bowl closer to himself and held it with both hands now, his feet shifting a bit. For a moment he stared at her, looking as though he had several things he wanted to say but was holding back, then he let his gaze slowly drift to Gunnar. The worry that had been in his eyes increased as he saw how badly his friend looked.
"How is he?," Bjorn asked, sounding afraid to hear the answer.
Signe pressed her lips together, then shook her head. "He lives…but for how long, we cannot know," she answered, keeping her voice low so that she would not disturb Garik. She took Gunnar's hand again, hating how lifeless it felt within her own. "I have seen my brothers hurt before. Odin knows I have stitched their wounds and treated their injuries more times than I could possibly count since mother died." Signe fell quiet for a moment, then looked up at Bjorn with tears in her eyes. "But I have never seen them like this. So pale. So…cold." A few tears broke free and slid down her cheeks as she turned her eyes back to Gunnar. "I fear he vill die," she admitted with a trembling voice.
At the sight of her tears, Bjorn immediately dropped down next to her, placed the bowl of food on the ground, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders in comforting gesture. Signe leaned into him and buried her face into his chest, more than willing to accept the support he was offering her. Unable to hold them back, she dissolved into the tears she'd been trying to fight off since they'd arrived back at camp, clinging to Bjorn and crying quietly into his jerkin as he held her close and stroked her hair.
"Gunnar is strong," Bjorn said reassuringly in her ear, his hand rhythmically smoothing her hair down, "and far too stubborn to give up his life so readily. He vill live, Signe," he said, and he seemed very convinced of this. "Gunnar vill overcome these injuries. And though it may take time, he will heal and become strong again. Then it will be as if he vas never even hurt to begin with." She heard him sigh before she felt Bjorn's chin rest on top of her head. "He will live," he repeated.
Signe's tears subsided at his words and she fell silent, turning her head to stare at Gunnar with sadness. As much as she wanted to take comfort in Bjorn's words, to believe that he was right when he said her brother would live, she could not. There were too many doubts floating through her mind, too much dread lurking in her veins, too much fear residing in her heart. What if Gunnar didn't overcome his injuries? How would the family – how would Garik – survive another devastating death? They had always been a close family, but after their mother had died they had grown even closer. To lose one of her brothers, for her father to lose a son…there were no words to describe the pain in her heart at the thought.
She wasn't sure how long she sat in the warm embrace of Bjorn's arms, with her head resting against his strong chest while her eyes stayed locked on her ailing brother, but eventually Bjorn pulled away some so that he could see her face. "Signe?" When she finally lifted her gaze to his, his eyes were gentle but his features were set in that stern, no-nonsense expression he wore whenever he was bound and determined to get his way. "There is a pond a little ways west of here. Go and wash the blood from your face and your hair, then come back and have something to eat."
Signe touched her own face in confusion, then immediately cringed at what she felt. As she had not yet left Gunnar's side, she had not had the chance to wash off the remnants of the battle. Dried blood – hers, Gunnar's, and that of the Götaland warriors she'd killed – was still caked on the skin of her face, hands, and neck, as well as splattered all through her hair. She did need to clean up and wash the battle off of herself, but she was reluctant to leave Gunnar's side. What if something happened while she was gone? What if he needed her and she wasn't there to help?
She opened her mouth to voice this concern, but Bjorn beat her to the punch. "I vill stay and look after Gunnar," he said, as though he'd read her mind. "If anything happens, I will wake Garik and then immediately come searching for you. I promise."
Signe pursed her lips as she thought it over, then finally sighed and gave a stiff nod of agreement. Pleased that she was not putting up a fight, Bjorn flashed a small smile before kissing the top of her head, uncaring of the dirt and blood clinging to the hair his lips touched. He then released Signe and ushered her to her feet, telling her that her food would be there waiting for her when she finished cleaning up. Signe nodded, took one last long look at Gunnar, then turned to leave the tent before she lost the will to do so.
She must have looked quite a fright with all the blood on her, because as she silently made her way through camp several men and women stopped at the sight of her and openly stared as she went past. Signe paid them no mind, too tired and heartbroken to care what she looked like or what people might think of her. Without acknowledging anyone she passed, she weaved her way through her celebrating comrades until she was finally free of the loud, confining camp. Feeling as though she could breathe a little easier, Signe started west toward the pond, leaving the camp and her comrades behind.
It was a short walk to the pond, which she was grateful for. Had it been any further, she doubted her bruised and battered body would have been able to make the trip. As soon as she reached the pond Signe dropped to her knees and took a moment to collect herself, closing her eyes and breathing the cool night air deep into her lungs. She winced when the deep breath made an ache spring up in her ribs, but pushed past the pain and leaned over to scoop some of the pond water with her hands and splash it against her face.
The cool water instantly soothed her. Even though the water was probably as dirty as she was, she splashed it against her face over and over again until she finally felt like all the blood had been washed away. Once her face was clean, Signe took a moment to assess the damage, running gentle fingertips along the bones sitting beneath her pale skin. Her nose was swollen, but not broken, and her chin was sore and felt twice as large from getting hit with a shield. Running her tongue along her teeth, she was relieved to find that she was not missing any, as she had fully expected to be the case. A gash on the top of her left arm – which had been bandaged up at some point, though she couldn't recall when – had made the whole top half of the appendage stiff and painful to the touch. And, of course, her ribs ached from the beating they'd taken. No doubt a few of them were bruised, possibly even broken.
But in spite of all that, she was still breathing and she was still very much alive. All things considered, Signe decided she'd gotten off pretty easy as far as injuries went. She was in pain, yes, but it could have been worse. Much worse.
Now that she had finished checking her own injuries, Signe reached up to start undoing the battle-braids her hair had been in for the past week. When her left arm protested the move and refused to raise more than a few inches without sending a searing pain through her injured muscles, she gave up and lowered it back to her side, using only the hand of her good arm to undo the braids instead. Once all of the braids were out – which took a while to do with only one hand – and her hair was sticking in every which direction, she braced herself with her good arm and promptly dunked her head into the pond.
Signe straightened up again with sopping wet hair, trying to determine how best to go about washing it. Since her left arm was more or less useless at the moment, she needed her good hand to scrub her hair clean. But, because of the injury to her ribs, she could not lean over and keep her head submerged in the water without the extra support of said good hand. Finally Signe just laid down on the ground completely with her head over the water, taking some of the strain off her bruised ribs and freeing up her hand so she could dunk her head again and start scrubbing away at her scalp. Once her hair was thoroughly rinsed she slowly sat back up, hissing and cringing the entire way, until she was sitting on her heels. With a relieved sigh now that the hard part was over, she reached up to squeeze the water from her long, auburn hair, running her fingers through the length of it to rid it of any tangles.
Signe had to admit that being somewhat clean made her feel a little better. When her stomach gave an angry rumble to remind her just how long it had been since she'd last eaten a decent meal, she decided to hurry up and get back to the tent to eat what Bjorn had brought for her. She was anxious to get back to Gunnar anyway, as she was afraid to be away from his side for too long in case something happened. But as Signe got to her feet and started back toward the glowing camp in the distance, however, she noticed a lone figure sitting on a large rock a few dozen yards away. There was a skin of ale hanging from the figure's hand and their eyes were turned up toward the moon and stars overhead. Signe recognized him in an instant because of his haircut – it was Hallsteinn.
Changing directions, Signe started toward her second eldest brother instead of going back toward camp. As she approached, she saw him lift the skin of ale to his lips and take a long drink before wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his dirty tunic. When she was close enough for him to hear her coming toward him, he cast a dark look over his shoulder, clearly prepared to tell whoever was coming to both him to go elsewhere. When Hallsteinn saw that it was Signe, however, his expression shifted to that of fear.
"What is wrong? What has happened?," he asked in a rush as he surged to his feet, automatically assuming the worst. "Has Gunnar – ?"
"Easy, brother," Signe said in a gentle tone, holding a hand up to silence him. "Nothing has changed with Gunnar. I was merely coming back from washing myself and saw you sitting here. I thought I would come and check on you," she explained so that he would calm down.
Hallsteinn stared at her for a moment, then plopped back down onto the rock with a heave, his shoulders sagging as the tension left his body. Without a word, he lifted the skin back to his lips and took three large gulps of ale, sucking in a deep breath once he was finished. Signe eyed him with a small frown on her face, noting the glassy sheen of inebriation clouding his eyes and the fact that he too had not bothered washing the blood off of him yet, nor had he tended to the minor cuts on his arms and legs. Beneath the haze of alcohol, Hallsteinn looked tired and worn. As though he'd aged ten years since they'd returned to camp.
"You should come back vith me," Signe suggested gently. "Your wounds need tending and you need sleep."
Hallsteinn sniffed a bit and shook his head, eyes looking anywhere but at her. "My wounds are nothing," he countered firmly, "and sleep is what I need last in the world."
"Hallsteinn – " Signe started to say.
"I failed," he interrupted harshly, looking angry. She couldn't tell who he was more angry with, though – her for interrupting his solitude or himself. "Do you not understand that?"
Signe blinked in response to his sudden anger. "Failed how?," she asked gently.
Hallsteinn took a drink before answering. "Whenever we have gone away to fight or raid, it has alvays been Valborg that father trusted to be in charge, Valborg leading the way," he said, waving the skin of ale around a bit. "And rightfully so – Valborg is strong, smart, and has saved more lives than I can ever dream of saving myself. He is a great warrior, and an even better man." Hallsteinn paused for a moment. "I was disappointed to know he would not be going to war with us," he continued a few seconds later, "but, admittedly, I felt excitement all the same," he confessed. "If Valborg did not go to war, that meant I would be in charge. At last, I had my chance to prove myself just as capable as my brother. To prove that I too could lead my siblings into a victorious battle and bring them all home safely."
Hallsteinn frowned now, falling silent for a long few seconds, eyes full of self-loathing. "As it seems…I am not as capable as Valborg after all. I lost you in the battle, Signe, and because of that you nearly lost your life," he said, looking to her with guilt-filled eyes. "And Gunnar…" He trailed off, unable to finish that statement. "Valborg would have never let such things happen. Valborg would have never let any of you out of his sight. He would have protected you," Hallsteinn insisted, looking as though he hated himself more and more with each passing second.
"Hallsteinn, you cannot blame yourself for incidents that were beyond your control," Signe interrupted his rant, disliking the way this conversation was going. "These things could have just as easily happened under Valborg's watch as well."
"And yet they did not," Hallsteinn reminded her with a bitter smile. "They happened under mine." With that being said, he sighed and took another drink, eyes turning back up to the moon overhead. "Leave me, Signe," he instructed, his tone heavy with defeat. She started to protest, but before she could he spoke again. "I vant to be alone," he persisted, shooting her a look over his shoulder that plainly stated he was not to be argued with. "Leave me."
Signe lingered for a few seconds, but eventually nodded and turned to go back to camp when it became clear Hallsteinn had no intentions of coming back with her. Leaving him to fester in his own ill thoughts felt like the wrong thing to do, but she also knew that when he got like this, there was nothing anyone could do or say to bring him out of it. Hallsteinn had never been the type to seek comfort when he was upset about something, not even when it was something as devastating as losing a family member – he had always liked to be left alone so that he could sort through his troubles by himself. He would come around in his own time, just as he always had.
Signe continued to think about Hallsteinn as she trudged back to camp, unable to help feeling worried for him. It was a known fact in the family that Hallsteinn looked up to Valborg – all of the siblings did – but she feared that he may be putting too much pressure on himself to fill their older brother's shoes in his absence. Valborg was a good man and he was a great warrior, true, but so was Hallsteinn, even if he himself didn't appear to think so. What had happened on the battlefield that day was far beyond Hallsteinn's control and she would never dream of placing any blame on him for it, nor would anyone else in their family – she just hoped that Hallsteinn realized it wasn't his fault as well and came out of this self-loathing rut, and preferably sooner rather than later.
As Signe neared the camp she noticed that the noise from its occupants had grown significantly louder, due to the fact that most of the warriors loitering about appeared to be well past intoxication by this point. A group of men launched into a loud rendition of a popular song from back home as Signe drew near, making her glance in that direction. The men, each looking just as drunk as the next, were standing arm in arm and swaying back and forth as they loudly sang the words, much to the delight and amusement of those looking on. The song immediately made Signe think of her father, whom she'd heard sing the song on a number of occasions, which in turn made her heart ache for home. The mere thought that the rest of their family was so far away and had no clue that Gunnar was on death's door was almost enough to make her feel sick.
Signe, feeling saddened again, started to move away so she wouldn't have to hear the song anymore. When her eyes suddenly landed on a familiar figure standing not far from the singing men, however, she paused. Just outside the borders of the camp with a horn of ale in his hand stood Torstein, Earl Ragnar's friend and the one who had saved her life that day. He had cleaned up from the battle and looked as though he was a little on the drunk side as he talked and laughed with his companion, the tall, odd-natured Floki.
Her first instinct was to go to him and thank him for everything that he had done, just as she had vowed to do. But Signe only took a few steps in his direction before she paused again, uncertain if she should bother him while he was celebrating with his friend and unsure whether or not he would even want to speak with her. She stood there for a moment in indecision, debating if she should approach him or not, until she finally decided not to bother him. Right as she turned to leave, though, Torstein's eyes suddenly jumped to her, as if he'd been able to feel her staring at him. There was a look of instant recognition, then interest on his face. It was only a moment before Torstein said something to Floki and then started in her direction, which immediately let Signe know that he was coming to speak with her and that the chance to run had come and gone.
She decided to meet Torstein halfway when he excused himself from Floki's company. As she walked, she couldn't help but notice that Floki turned to watch Torstein walk away, clearly interested in whatever had caught his friend's attention. When Floki's gaze found hers and he realized that Signe was the one Torstein was going to, one of his eyebrows lifted and his expression shifted to one that was hard to decipher. Signe couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw hints of suspicion on Floki's face.
"Hello, Signe," Torstein greeted as he came to a halt in front of her, looking much more serious and much more sober now.
"Hello, Torstein," Signe reciprocated.
Torstein stared at her for a moment, most likely taking in the cuts and bruises that the battle had left behind on her face. Signe studied him as well, but other than a cut on the bridge of his nose, he was in fairly good condition. Apparently the majority of the blood that had been on him during the battle had belonged to his victims, not himself. "How is your brother?," he finally asked after a second or two, breaking the momentary silence that had surrounded them.
The question immediately had her thinking about Gunnar, who was lying in a tent not so far away right that moment and on the verge of leaving them forever. The thought made her throat constrict and her heart ache. "He is…not well," Signe answered in a thick voice, turning her eyes away as they once again prickled with the threat of tears. "His breathing is shallow, his heart beats slowly, and he looks like death itself." She paused to suck in another deep breath. "It is uncertain whether he shall survive or not."
When she finally felt brave enough to meet Torstein's eyes again, he was looking at her with sympathy. "I am sorry to hear it," he said gravely. "I hope he lives, and I will pray to the Gods for his swift recovery." Signe nodded her thanks, touched by the sincerity of his words. "And how are you?," Torstein asked after a few beats of silence. "Are you well?"
Signe sighed a bit. "I am sad for Gunnar and I worry for my other brothers," she told him, "but as for injuries, mine are nothing to worry about. I will live…thanks to you," Signe added pointedly, shooting him a meaningful look. He stood a little straighter, as though her statements had caught him by surprise. "You saved my life today, Torstein," Signe continued, her tone serious. "There are no words to properly express my gratitude for what you did, but know that I consider myself to be forever in your debt."
Torstein shook his head at once. "The debt has been repaid already," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Do you not remember saving my life only moments later?"
Signe thought back to the man that had gone to attack Torstein while he'd been fighting off the man that had tried to end her, remembered how she had jumped into action and killed the Götaland warrior before he could get to her rescuer. It was true, she had saved Torstein's life…but for some reason, that just didn't seem like it was enough. "Regardless, you came to my rescue when you were not obligated to do so. That is not something I will soon forget," Signe insisted.
Torstein eyed her for a quiet moment, but eventually seemed to come to the conclusion that Signe wasn't going to be convinced otherwise and nodded his head. In the next moment a few drunken warriors came stumbling past, their eyes turning to Signe almost immediately before lighting with obvious interest. Their leering did not go unnoticed by her nor by Torstein, who sent the drunk men a warning look and then proceeded to place a hand on Signe's shoulder, as though he intended to lead her someplace where they could speak with more privacy. As it was, he unknowingly placed his hand on her left shoulder, which was tender to the touch because of the gash on her upper arm. Signe could not help but wince and release a small hiss at the contact, which immediately caught Torstein's attention.
He pulled his hand from her shoulder and let his gaze drop down to the bandage covering the gash on her upper arm, which was dirty and soaked through with blood after wearing it for most of the day. His brows almost instantly furrowed in concern as his eyes met hers again. "Have you tended to this wound?," he asked.
Signe cringed a bit, then slowly shook her head. "I have been busy tending to Gunnar since we returned," she excused. "I have not had the time, nor capacity, to care for myself. Do not worry, the injury is not as bad as it looks," Signe insisted when she saw the disapproving expression that had overtaken Torstein's face.
Torstein did not look convinced. "I shall be the judge of that," he said, before nodding in the direction of the many tents making up their camp. "Come with me, I vill have a look at your arm."
Signe was a bit surprised by his demand at first, but then quickly shook her head in refusal. It wasn't that she didn't trust Torstein or that she thought he'd try to take advantage of her if they were alone – there was just something about the thought of going with him to his tent and allowing him to tend to her that felt too…intimate. Especially considering how little they knew about each other. She didn't think her brothers would appreciate her going off with a man they didn't know either, and given how unstable Garik and Hallsteinn seemed to be at the present moment, she thought it wiser not to test them.
"Thank you," she said politely, so as not to offend Torstein, "but I do not think that will be necessary. I am certain this is nothing."
Torstein cocked a brow, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "True, it may be nothing," he agreed, "…but it may also be infected," he added, shooting her a pointed look. "If it is and you do nothing about it, the wound will only continue to fester and the infection will spread. It is likely you shall lose that limb…assuming the infection does not kill you first." Feeling taken aback for the second time in only a matter of moments, Signe could only look at him in stunned silence as Torstein lowered his chin and stared directly into her eyes. "You believe yourself to be indebted to me? Well, I believe myself to be indebted to you. Do me this service and allow me to tend to your wound," he said imploringly. "It is the least I can do for the shieldmaiden who saved my life on the battlefield today."
Though she had been hesitant to accept at first, Signe suddenly found it impossible to say no. She finally nodded her head in consent, which seemed to please Torstein. He inclined his head to her and then turned to start back through the camp, motioning for her to follow him. Singe did as he instructed and went with him, falling into step with him after only a few seconds. Just before they could disappear into the busy camp, her eyes turned back in the direction that she knew Floki to be in, curious to see if he was still watching them. Sure enough, Floki was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze locked directly on her and Torstein, this time with a distinct expression of disapproval on his features. Signe, who didn't know what to make of it all, quickly turned her gaze away from Floki and continued on with Torstein.
Torstein led her to a tent on the far side of the encampment, not far from where Lady Lagertha and her guard had set up within the camp. At first Signe was unsure why Torstein had a tent set up within the Hedeby camp, but after taking a look around, she realized that all of the Kattegat warriors had opted to move out of the farmhouse and merge with their victorious comrades for the night. Some had already disappeared into the crowd, others she could see standing nearby as they drank and laughed and talked with one another. She even thought she spotted Earl Ragnar talking with his fearsome brother Rollo off to the side, but the crowd concealed them from sight before she could be sure.
"Sit," she heard Torstein instruct, which drew her attention away from those around them and back to the man she was with. Signe nodded and sat down on a small wooden barrel next to the fire, only just realizing how cold she had been once she could feel the warmth of the flames through her clothes.
Torstein rummaged around in his belongings for a moment, retrieved a few items, then came to join her. He grabbed a wooden crate on the way and placed it on the ground next to her, before sitting his tall frame down on top of it. Signe looked over at him, eyeing the supplies he had brought with him for a moment, then shifted her gaze up to his when she felt him staring at her.
"I am going to clean it first, then determine whether there is infection or not," he told her before he did anything else.
Signe nodded her understanding and started to reach over to untie the bandage covering her arm, but Torstein scooched a bit closer and decided to undo it himself, making Signe's hand fall back to her side. The close proximity with which he sat combined with the gentle brushes of his fingers as he silently worked at the tie around her arm instantly made her feel nervous – Signe quickly turned her eyes forward so that she was not looking at him anymore, her cheeks tinging pink against her will. Suddenly she was glad they were so close to the fire, that way she could blame the blush in her cheeks on the heat of the flames should he happen to notice.
"Will Kattegat be safe tonight?," she asked to break the silence, hoping if they conversed that it might quell some of the nervousness in her belly. "If we are here and not there, can the Jarl not just return to Kattegat and force his way back in again?"
"The Jarl has been defeated and his forces severely weakened," Torstein answered matter-of-factly. "Trust when I say that he is long gone by now. I gather it vill by quite some time before we see Jarl Borg in these parts again," he firmly reassured.
Signe nodded as Torstein finished with the old bandage and tossed it into the fire. When he ripped the sleeve of her shirt wider so that he could see the wound better, she could not help but glance down to see what sort of damage had been done. The area was so caked over in dried blood that it was a little difficult to make out the cut at first, but she cringed when she spied the red, angry wound that had been left behind by her fierce Götaland opponent. Signe already knew it would scar and forever be a reminder of the first battle she'd ever fought in.
Torstein frowned at the sight, then grabbed for a skin of ale. He pulled out the stopper with his teeth and turned his head to spit it away, then raised his eyebrows at her. "This will sting," he warned.
With that said he wrapped a large hand around her arm to keep her still, then poured the alcohol onto the nasty gash. The moment the potent drink hit the fragile nerves of her wounded arm it felt like a blade was slicing her open all over again, making her instantly jerk in response. Torstein kept her anchored to the spot with his strong grasp, giving her no choice but to just grit her teeth and bare the pain. She squeezed her eyes closed and clenched her jaw as Torstein reached for a rag and wiped the sensitive injury clean, feeling quite proud of herself when she only managed to let out a small whimper of discomfort. He poured alcohol onto the cut one more time for good measure, then set the skin aside as he finished cleaning her arm.
"Well, I do not believe you vill be losing your arm," he determined after giving her wound a long, critical look. "So long as you keep it clean, anyway," Torstein added pointedly. "I know your brother's condition it critical and that you have been tending to him, but you vill need to take the time to take care of yourself if you do not want infection to set in."
"I know," Signe said with a nod. "And I will," she then promised.
Torstein nodded, looking satisfied with her response, then leaned over to grab the fresh bandages he had brought. As he stretched out the cloth and prepared to wrap her arm, he gave her an appraising look. "You fought well today," he complimented.
Signe looked over at him and smiled wryly. "Not well enough, it would seem," she disagreed, glancing pointedly at the wound as she held her arm out a ways to make his job easier.
Torstein shrugged a broad, dismissive shoulder, then began wrapping her arm. "It is rare for anyone to walk away from a battle completely unscathed – especially when it is their first battle," he countered. "From what I observed, you fought better than half the men on that battlefield today." Torstein lifted his eyes for a moment and met her gaze with a curious one of his own. "Who was it that trained you?"
"My brothers did," Signe answered. "My father had already renounced his life as a warrior by the time I was old enough to finally wield a weapon, so my brothers took it upon themselves to teach me how to fight," she explained. "They have been training me for years."
The revelation that her father had given up his life of fighting seemed to pique Torstein's interest, but if he had any questions about it, he kept them to himself. "And they have trained you well," he stated. "They should be proud of your performance in battle today, as should you."
Signe silently nodded, though inwardly she wasn't so sure getting herself beat almost to a pulp and then nearly losing her life was much to boast about. Had it not been for the man sitting next to her, she wouldn't even be alive to brag about anything. "There is still much room for improvement," she said, turning her eyes away. "I have more to learn yet."
"That will come with time and experience," Torstein said as he finished wrapping her arm and secured the tie with a few firm yanks to make sure it stayed in place. Signe winced a bit at the pressure, but did not vocalize her discomfort. "There. Finished," he announced, releasing her arm and leaning back to inspect his handiwork.
Signe looked down at the neatly done bandage, then offer Torstein a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Torstein," she told him. "And also, thank you for lending your cloak to us earlier when we were carrying Gunnar back to camp. That was kind of you," Signe added, remembering the red cloak that Gunnar still laid upon at that very moment. "Once we have gone to Kattegat, I will wash it the best I can and return it to you as soon as possible."
A small smile appeared on Torstein's lips beneath his beard. "I was happy to help," he said, inclining his head a bit. "And there is no rush to have it back. There are far more important matters for you to tend to rather than wasting your time on something as trivial as my cloak."
Signe nodded in response. After that a few moments of silence stretched between them where they simply stared at one another, neither seeming to know what to say next. Signe finally decided that while she liked Torstein's company, she had been away from Gunnar too long for her comfort. It was time for her to go. "I should be on my way," Signe said after a few more seconds. "I have been gone for too long – I need to check in on my brother." Torstein gave a nod of understanding, watching from his seat on the crate as Signe stood. "Thank you for your help, Torstein," she said politely.
"You are welcome, Signe," he said in return. "I hope your brother fares well."
"As do I," she said hopefully. Signe then gave him one last smile and a slight bow of her head. "Goodbye. We vill meet again soon, I am sure."
"We will," Torstein confirmed. "Goodbye, Signe."
With that being said, Signe stepped past Torstein and left his tent to go back to her own. As she walked away she thought she could feel his eyes on her back, but when she chanced a glance back he had stood from the crate and rummaging through his belongings again with his back turned to her. Signe paused long enough to study his broad back for a moment, her head filled with curious thought about him, before turning on her heel and continuing on back to her tent.
By the next morning, Gunnar still had not woken, nor shown any signs of improvement. Upon checking his wounds Signe felt a small amount of relief to see that the cuts and gashes ailing him had stopped bleeding, but the comfort she got from that was short and slight. Gunnar was still in bad shape and had a long way to go yet on his road to recovery, assuming he lived long enough to fully recover. His fate was still very much undecided, and until he finally opened his eyes and rejoined the world, Signe was going to be worried sick about him.
As much as she did not want to move her injured brother when he was in such a fragile state, when it came time to disassemble camp and begin the long trek back to Kattegat, she knew there would be no avoiding it. The journey to Kattegat would take half a day at the very least and it was sure to put a strain on Gunnar, but they couldn't very well stay out in the middle of nowhere and hope to give him the treatment and attention he needed. They had to take him to Kattegat, where there would be food and shelter and all of the supplies they needed to nurse Gunnar back to health. The trip would be a strenuous one, yes, but it was also a necessity.
Not long after sunrise, as Signe and her brothers took down the tent they'd slept under for the past few days and began preparing Gunnar for departure, she couldn't help but notice the toll all of this had taken on her other brothers. Garik looked pale and haunted and worked in silence, continuously shooting worried looks at Gunnar's still form as he moved around his fallen twin, while Hallsteinn, nursing a hangover and sporting dark bags under his eyes, wore a deep frown underneath his beard and spoke only when directly spoken to. Signe frowned and sighed to herself, wanting to say something that might bring her brothers hope but knowing nothing she would say would help very much. She hardly had any hope herself – how could she tell them to remain optimistic when her own thoughts and feelings were just the opposite?
"Signe, Hallsteinn, Garik," a voice sounded nearby, catching the attention of Signe and her brothers. She turned her head to see that Bjorn, who had stayed close by for the majority of the night, had reappeared with a good sized wagon in tow. "This is for you," he said as he neared. As soon as he was in front of them, he stopped and placed a hand on the wagon. "You cannot carry Gunnar all the way back to Kattegat. It is much too far. You may place him on this," he said, patting the wagon. "It vill make the trip easier."
Signe was immediately grateful for the gesture, but still eyed the wagon with curiosity. "Who does it belong to?," she asked.
Bjorn looked to her and shrugged a shoulder. "I borrowed it from a comrade who used it to tote ale and food from Hedeby. He vas happy to lend it, so long as it is returned to him once we have reached Kattegat," he answered, nodding his head.
"We are grateful," Hallsteinn spoke up, trying to muster up as much appreciation as he could in his weary, tired voice. "Thank you, Bjorn," he added, reaching out to clap Bjorn on the shoulder.
Bjorn inclined his head. "Of course." He returned Hallsteinn's gesture and patted him on the back, then moved toward Gunnar's form. "Here, I vill help you put him on the wagon," he offered, prepared to help in any way he could.
While Bjorn, Hallsteinn, and Garik worked together to gently pick Gunnar up and place him on top of the wagon, Signe went to finish packing their belongings so that she would not be in their way. She flashed Bjorn a small smile when their eyes met, then turned to shove the last of her things into her pack. As her eyes landed on the red cloak that Gunnar had been lying on top of, the one that belonged to Torstein, Signe's thoughts briefly turned to the tall, golden haired man. She found her eyes jumping around the busy camp in search of him on their own accord. When she could not pick him out amongst the crowd, she merely turned her attention back to the cloak and folded it up before placing it in the bag with the rest of her belongings.
It wasn't long after they had Gunnar settled and secure on top of the wagon that the order to leave the farm and journey to Kattegat was given. To Signe's approval and happiness, Bjorn did not leave their side to walk with his father or mother as she had expected him to do. He instead chose to walk side-by-side with her and help her carry both her and her brothers' belongings while Garik and Hallsteinn worked together to push Gunnar toward their destination. Though there was little to no conversation held between the four of them as they steadily trekked their way toward Kattegat, Bjorn's presence comforted her and offered her a sense of peace in a time when she most needed it. To express her gratitude, Signe grabbed his hand and laced her fingers with his, giving it a firm squeeze to try to silently express what she was feeling. Bjorn smiled in response to the gesture and squeezed back. Afterward, he did not make any moves to release her hand.
It was well into the afternoon when they finally arrived at Kattegat, and it was with a great amount of joy and fanfare that the townspeople greeted them as they approached. Though the Kattegat natives around them – as well as some of the Hedeby warriors – matched the excitement of the villagers and greeted them with just as much exuberance, Signe, her brothers, and the other Hedeby warriors travelling with their own wounded could not find it in themselves to laugh and cheer along with their comrades. Signe watched the happy reunions around them without feeling much of anything, experiencing only a small moment of happiness for Bjorn and Lady Lagertha when she saw how many people rushed up to them to welcome them back to their former home.
"It is just as I remember," Bjorn murmured next to her once people had stopped coming up to him, drawing her gaze to him again. He was staring at his birthplace with wide eyes, seemingly amazed by the fact that he had finally returned home after all this time. "I had not thought I would see this place again," he then admitted, turning his gaze down to hers.
Signe squeezed his hand and managed a small smile for him. "Welcome home, Bjorn Ragnarsson." Bjorn nodded, smiled, and squeezed her hand but said nothing in response, as he seemed too choked up and overcome with emotion to be able to say anything.
Signe and her brothers finally parted ways with Bjorn when a woman from Kattegat came up to them and directed them toward a barn near the marketplace that was being offered up as a place for the wounded to stay. Bjorn looked torn at first, unsure if he should leave their side or not, but Signe, being well aware of the fact that her friend would want to see his previous home and reunite with his old friends, assured him there was nothing more he could do to help and insisted that he go. It took some convincing, but after helping them get Gunnar settled and making her promise to come and find him if anything changed with his wounded friend's condition, he finally took his leave.
The next few hours were spent by Gunnar's side, tending to his wounds and trying to get water into his system now that he was in a place where he could truly heal in peace and comfort. At some point in the afternoon one of the captured Götaland warriors was sacrificed in the square as an offering to the Gods, but out of the three of them it was only Hallsteinn who attended the ceremony, as neither Signe nor Garik was willing to leave Gunnar unattended. Had it been her choice she would not have left her brother's side at all, but when a group of Hedeby shieldmaidens came by and informed her that they were all venturing to the bathhouse to wash up and change out of their battle gear, Hallsteinn would not allow her to tell the shieldmaidens no and demanded that she join them. Signe tried to argue, but her brother would not have any of it and sent her on her way with one firm command.
Though she hadn't wanted to go in the first place, being with the other shieldmaidens and hearing their conversation proved to be a nice enough distraction from her own thoughts. As they soaked in the warm water of the bathhouse and cleaned their hair and skin, Signe listened as the other women talked about their excitement at being in Kattegat and discussed the upcoming town celebration that was going to be held that night to rejoice in the victory over Jarl Borg. After a while they even began gossiping about some of the Kattegat men and gushed over their handsomeness. She could not help but take notice when one of them mentioned having interest in the 'tall, handsome, golden-haired warrior' that she had seen by Earl Ragnar's side – judging by the description, Singe knew the shieldmaiden could only be referring to Torstein. Hearing the shieldmaiden talking about him in such a way sent an odd feeling through Signe's stomach, but since she wasn't entirely sure what to make of her own reaction, she quickly dismissed it.
By the time they were finished bathing, the sun had already gone down. Signe changed into one of the dresses she had brought, sat patiently while one of the other shieldmaidens braided the top half of her hair into an intricate design, then exited the bathhouses with her comrades. While the other shieldmaidens headed for Earl Ragnar's hall, where the victory celebration was already underway, Signe quickly hurried back to the barn to check on her brothers. As she stepped back into the barn she was hit with the strong smell of blood and festering wounds, courtesy of the many wounded men and women lying in various places throughout the barn. She ignored the stench and hurried to where she had left her brothers, eager to see if anything had changed with Gunnar in her absence.
As soon as Hallsteinn caught sight of her approaching, he was on his feet. "Signe, come," he said urgently, motioning her over.
Fearing the worst, Signe raised the skirt of her dress a few inches and rushed toward them. "What is it? What is wrong?," she demanded in a panic, her heart already pounding against her ribs. But before either of her brothers could answer, she got a look at Gunnar and realized with a start that his eyes were open. "Gunnar!," she all but shouted, feeling a rush through her veins as she dropped to her knees next to him. "My brother!"
It took a long few seconds, but Gunnar was finally able to turn his head enough to meet her gaze. Then, he offered a ghost of a smile. "Hello…sister," he wheezed in a tone so quiet and so weak that she almost didn't hear him.
Signe, overcome with relief and joy that Gunnar was awake and speaking, immediately burst into tears and threw herself upon his chest. It was only when he made a sound of discomfort that she remembered herself and backed off, her expression turning apologetic in an instant. "Forgive me. I did not mean to hurt you," she said, wiping her tears away before placing a gentle hand on his hair. "I am just so happy to see you awake!" Signe then turned to look at Garik and Hallsteinn, who were both smiling at her. "When did he wake?"
"Not long before you returned," Garik answered, flashing a quick smile at his twin. "Nearly made our hearts fail, we were so surprised," he added, shooting his brother a playfully chastising look.
Signe smiled and looked back down at Gunnar, who had closed his eyes again but was breathing with more strength and steadiness than she had seen for the past two days. To say that she was relieved was an understatement – she was so happy with this turn events that she felt as though she may burst right out of her own skin. "The Gods have shown mercy," she said confidently. "They have smiled upon our family tonight."
"They have shown mercy thus far," Hallsteinn corrected. He seemed happy as well, but as though he didn't want to get his hopes up too high. "Gunnar has only just started on his road to recovery…and it vill not be an easy road for him to travel upon," he went on to remind them.
Signe nodded her understanding, but as she petted her brother's short hair, the grave reminder did nothing to lessen her happiness. Gunnar had woken, and though it was only a slight amount, seemed to have regained some fraction of his strength. The improvement, no matter how small it may have been, was more than enough to bring a smile back to her face and lift the heaviness that had been hanging over her heart since they'd found him on the battlefield.
"I must find Bjorn and relay the good news," she said as Gunnar's breath evened out with sleep again, certain that Bjorn would want to know that his friend was showing signs of improvement as soon as possible. "I promised I vould tell him if there were any changes in Gunnar's condition."
"He vill be at the celebration, no doubt," Hallsteinn said with a nod. "You should indeed go and find him." Hallsteinn paused thoughtfully, then sent her a small smile. "And after you have delivered the good news to our friend, you should stay at the celebration, sister," he added, raising his brows. When Signe looked to him in slight confusion, Hallsteinn explained himself. "You have just fought and won in your first battle. You should celebrate with your friends and your comrades. You have earned it, Signe."
"But what about Gunnar?," she asked uncertainly, unsure if she was comfortable spending the night celebrating instead of being by Gunnar's side, even if he had woken.
"I vill stay and watch over him," Hallsteinn reassured her.
"No, I will," Garik corrected, making Signe and her brother shift their gazes to him. "The both of you will celebrate tonight vhile I stay with Gunnar." Hallsteinn almost immediately started to argue, but Garik held up a hand to silence him. "Go. It is what Gunnar would vant you to do," he insisted. "Besides, I wish to be alone with my twin for a time, anyway," he added.
Signe turned her gaze from Garik's to share a look with Hallsteinn. Though neither spoke a word, they both seemed to agree that Garik's request should not be denied and both understood that, even if they did try to argue, he was not going to be convinced otherwise. So after Signe gave Hallsteinn a small nod of encouragement, her second eldest brother sighed and inclined his head to Garik. "Very well," he conceded, reaching over to squeeze Garik's shoulder before standing to his feet. "We shall leave you alone with Gunnar, then."
Garik nodded his head once in gratitude, then looked to Signe. She smiled briefly before leaning over to give Gunnar a lingering kiss on the forehead. Afterward, she stood to her feet before leaning down to plant an identical kiss on the top of Garik's head. "Take care of him," she instructed, smoothing back his golden hair. "We vill see you after, yes?" Garik nodded once more and smiled, patting her arm.
With that, Signe and Hallsteinn both turned to leave and head for the celebration. Signe took a deep, refreshing breath as soon as they were out of the barn, thankful for the fresh air and glad for the turn the night had taken. She smiled at Hallsteinn as they started toward Earl Ragnar's hall to convey her happiness, but said nothing, simply reveled in her own joy.
"Signe," Hallsteinn said after a few moments of walking in silence. "Forgive me for last night," he apologized, looking ashamed of himself. "You were only trying to help. I should not have treated you the way I did. I despise myself for it."
Signe looked at him for a moment, then looped her arm through his. "There is no need for apology, brother," she found herself to him yet again. "You were upset. I understand. I would not hold such a thing against you."
Hallsteinn smiled, looking grateful. "How is it that you are alvays so understanding?," he asked, his tone full of both relief and curiosity.
"I have four loud, hard-headed, annoyingly-overprotective brothers," she reminded him, raising her brows. "I have no choice but to be understanding, otherwise you would all drive me to madness."
Hallsteinn let out a laugh that immediately warmed her heart, the tension visibly seeping from his shoulders. Signe was happy that she had been able to do something to make him relax and take joy for the first time in two days. "I suppose you are right," he said, placing a hand on her arm and giving it a squeeze.
"I am always right," Signe joked, before the two of them shared a smile and continued on to find Bjorn.
Even with the fast paced music, the loud sounds of conversation and laughter, and the bustle of activity as those around him danced and drank the night away, as soon as she walked through the door she had his full attention.
Torstein sat up straighter in his seat on the far side of the room as Signe walked into Ragnar's hall with her brother Hallsteinn, his eye caught and held by the familiar sight of her long, auburn tresses. The first thing he noticed was that she was, for once, wearing a dress rather than the battle gear he'd seen her in since meeting her. Though the garment was simple and modest, he could not help but to let his eyes wander and admire the sight she presented. The dress clung to her in all the right places and the dark green fabric complimented her hair and fair skin very nicely. As his gaze slid back up to her face, he noticed next that the haunted expression she'd worn for the past two days had disappeared, replaced with a smile and glimmer of hope that he was certain could only mean one thing – her brother must finally be showing signs of improvement.
Torstein watched as Signe and her brother located Bjorn amongst the crowd and quickly hurried over to him, convinced his suspicions were being confirmed when she began to talk to his Earl's son in quick, excited words. Seeing as he had known exactly how afraid she had been that her brother would not survive, he found that he felt genuinely happy to know that the man was doing better. When Bjorn suddenly grinned and pulled Signe into a long, intimate looking hug, however, the happiness he felt quickly began to disintegrate and melt into something else.
He knew fairly quickly that the feeling boiling in his belly was jealousy, and though the feeling wasn't entirely unexpected, it made him feel foolish nonetheless. With a small heave of self-disgust, Torstein raised his horn of ale up to his lips and took a long drink, hoping it might wash the jealousy away. Over the rim of his cup he watched as Bjorn quickly located two cups of ale and pressed them into the awaiting hands of Signe and her brother. In the next moment the three raised their drinks in a toast before gulping down generous helpings of their drinks. Then, as Hallsteinn said a few words before breaking away to start mingling with those around him, Bjorn grabbed Signe by the hand and pulled her to the center of the hall, where several other people were dancing to the beat of the music.
It was ridiculous of him to be jealous of man a decade younger than himself over a woman he hardly knew, especially considering the fact that he was a grown man of thirty, was a seasoned warrior, and was no stranger to having women in his bed - it seemed absurd for him to feel jealous of anyone over anything, women included. But Torstein simply couldn't help the feeling. Regardless of her younger age, Signe was an interesting woman – smart, loyal, a fierce fighter, and, incidentally, very attractive. Probably one of the more attractive females he'd seen in his lifetime. She'd had his attention since the moment he'd seen her back at camp, when Bjorn had come to introduced her to Ragnar. And his interest had only grown each time they'd interacted with one another since. Even now, watching her dance around the hearth and watching as her long, entrancing hair swung with her movements, he felt drawn to her, felt himself wanting to get closer to her, wanting to know anything he could learn about her.
Yet in spite of that pull toward her, as he saw the way Signe smiled at Bjorn and laughed with him while they danced around each other, it was only too obvious that her interest lay with the young man in front of her. Signe might have told him that they were only friends, but he'd have to be blind and a fool to not see that her feelings for Bjorn ran far deeper than friendship. And more than likely, Bjorn reciprocated the feelings. For he would have to be blind and a fool to not realize what he had directly in front of him.
"It seems every time I see you these days, your eyes are on that shieldmaiden," a voice suddenly piped up next to him, interrupting his thoughts and making him jump in surprise. The voice was one he recognized in an instant. It belonged to his good friend Floki.
Torstein glanced at Floki, who stood next to him with a horn of ale in his hand and was watching Signe and Bjorn dance with a knowing expression on his kohl-streaked face. When Floki glanced down at him and arched a brow, Torstein looked away and took another drink of his ale. "I know not what you speak of," he lied in a casual tone, even though he knew his attempt to throw Floki of the scent would more than likely be for naught.
As he suspected, Floki wasn't about to be so easily deterred. "Of course you do," he said in that sing-song voice of his, smiling widely with what appeared to be condescension. "I may be a jokester, but I am not a fool. Nor are you…or, at least, I hope you are not," he added, shooting him a meaningful look. While Torstein took another drink to avoid having to say anything in response, Floki let his gaze turn back to Signe. "I understand your interest, for she is a ve-ry beautiful young woman," he admitted, giving a small nod of understanding. "However, there are others who I do not think would appreciate the amount of…attention…you have been showing when it comes to her. Bjorn being one of them," Floki said, his voice taking on a slight tone of warning.
"If I have given Signe any extra attention, I assure you it is only because she helped me on the battlefield when I found myself in a difficult situation," Torstein defended himself, even though that was a lie as well. His interest was due partly to the fact that she had indeed saved his neck during the battle against Jarl Borg, but that certainly wasn't the only reason behind his growing attraction to her. "Our encounters since then have been only of the friendly sort. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides," Torstein continued, glancing at Bjorn and Signe again. They had stopped dancing so they could talk with a few Hedeby warriors that looked to be around their age. "There is nothing between Signe and Bjorn but friendship," he felt the need to add.
"For now, perhaps," Floki challenged, which made Torstein shoot him a look. "Either way, Ragnar seems to believe there is something between the two of them," he revealed, making Torstein wonder when this conversation had taken place between Floki and their Earl. "So regardless of her relationship to Bjorn and in spite of the things you say, now I must ask you this," the odd man continued, unaffected by the slightly annoyed look Torstein had trained on him. "Ragnar is your friend…but how do you think he would react if he knew you were thinking about trying to bed the woman he believes is his son's?"
Torstein, who had been about to take a drink, stopped short at the question and turned another look on Floki. "I never said anything about trying to bed her," he said steadily, trying not to show how irritated he was starting to become with this conversation or how easily Floki could read him.
Floki smirked, planted a hand on Torstein's shoulder, then leaned down to pin him with another knowing look. "You did not have to say anything, my friend," he said cryptically, before roughly patting his back. "Tread carefully. That is all I am suggesting," Floki finished, before turning on his heel and walking away without another word.
Torstein watched his friend's retreating back until he could see him no more. With a sigh he let his gaze stray back to where Signe and Bjorn had been, his mind still filled with all the things that Floki had just said to him. With a start, he realized that Signe had finally spotted him in the crowd and was looking directly at him – as their eyes met, she smiled and gave a nod of acknowledgement. Had it been any other time and under any other circumstances, he would have gone to talk to her. But as it was, Torstein decided to heed his friend's advice. He simply raised his drink in acknowledgement before standing from his chair and walking away, intent on finding something – or someone – else to keep his attention and get his mind off of the auburn-haired beauty from Hedeby.
Thoughts? How did we like seeing things from Torstein's POV?