Thank you to anyone who has added this story to their alert or favorite list, thank you to anyone who has taken the time to review, and thank you to anyone who had taken the time out of their day to read this story! With Vikings on the verge of returning, I felt the need to get a new chapter out! So here it is! Hope you guys enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Vikings!
Chapter Eleven
Signe trudged slowly through the busy marketplace of Kattegat, carrying with her a large bucket of water that was so heavy, it was making her arms, hands, and back burn. She heaved, feeling sweat slide down the back of her neck, and shifted the brunt of the weight of the bucket to her left hand when the pressure of the rope handle digging into her right one became too much. When she came upon a large rock a few minutes later, she veered toward it and lifted the bucket with a groan, placing it on top and nearly singing with relief as her muscles got a much needed reprieve.
Signe raised her arm to her forehead and used the sleeve of her dress to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated there, taking a moment to catch her breath. Normally carrying a bucket of water would not be such a difficult task for her. After years of working in the fields back home and training in the ways of battle with her brothers, Signe considered herself a fairly strong woman. But her first week in Kattegat had been a very hard one, and it had taken a great toll on her, both physically and mentally.
Gunnar had finally improved enough to where she was now certain he would not die from the injuries he'd sustained during the battle again Jarl Borg. He had awoken three days after Hallsteinn and Garik had left for Hedeby, confused as to where he was and why their brothers were gone, but finally feverless and more alert than he had been since the battle. Despite Gunnar's improvement, however, he was still incredibly weak and relied on her for absolutely everything. Signe had spent the entire week constantly tending to his needs, helping him eat when he was hungry, drink when he was thirsty, use the bathroom whenever he had to go, and tending to his wounds whenever it was needed.
It was a demanding job taking care of him, just as she had known it would be, but she was beginning to think she had underestimated the toll it would take on her. With how preoccupied she had been with Gunnar, there had hardly been any time to take care of herself. She could not remember the last time she had slept through an entire night, nor could she recall the last time she had combed her hair, cleaned her teeth, or even just taken the time to have a bath. She felt worn thin. She felt exhausted.
A man working a small stand nearby began shouting about fresh meat, grabbing Signe's attention. From a distance, she eyed the goods he was advertising, her stomach rumbling hungrily and her mouth watering a bit as she watched him wrap up a large chunk of meat and hand it over to a paying customer.
When Signe had come to Kattegat, she had not expected to stay long. She had thought they would fight off Jarl Borg, take a few days to recover, and then return home. It had simply not felt necessary to bring much money with her…not that she had even had much money to begin with. But Signe and Gunnar were staying in Kattegat for much longer than originally planned, and, by now, between buying extra supplies to care for Gunnar, paying a stable boy to care for her and Gunnar's horses, and having purchased food earlier in the week, the money she had had – including what Hallsteinn had given her before leaving for Hedeby – was nearly completely gone. They could no longer afford meat, had been unable to purchase any food of real substance in several days. They did not have anything valuable to barter with, either. They had been living off bland stews, stale bread, and half-rotten vegetables for nearly the whole week.
Signe eyed the vendor for another moment, so hungry she felt as though her stomach was eating itself. Perhaps she could make an exception tonight, she thought to herself, knowing that a full stomach would significantly help both her and her brother. Signe dipped a hand into the pocket of her dress to grab for her coin purse, opening it up to see how much money was left inside. Upon seeing that there were only a few coins left, though, she frowned deeply and felt her hope fade away. There was no way she could buy meat without spending what was left of her money. And since the money they had needed to see them through both the rest of their stay in Kattegat and their journey back to Hedeby, she decided it was probably wiser to save what she had. Signe closed the pouch and returned it to her pocket, unable to help sending a longing look in the direction of the food she wouldn't be getting.
The sound of giggling suddenly reached her ears, drawing her attention away from the vendor. She glanced over, her eyes landing on a group of girls who looked to be around her own age. They were staring back, their eyes looking her up and down, whispering and giggling to one another behind their hands. Signe instantly flushed, feeling embarrassed. Not only had she been caught staring at the food vendor like a starving beggar, but she also knew how poorly she looked just then. She'd brought only two dresses with her to Kattegat, the nice green one she only wore when she wanted to look presentable, and the brown working one she was wearing currently. The fabric was filthy after wearing it for a week straight, covered in dried blood, old sweat, dirt, grime, and other bodily substances she didn't want to name. Between the horridly dirty garment, her grimy, unwashed skin, and long, tangled hair, she knew she did not present a pretty picture.
Feeling extremely self-conscious, Signe picked up the heavy bucket and hastened away as quickly as she could, wanting to get away from the judging women. In her hurry to turn away though, she slammed right into a large, portly Kattegat man. She bounced off his rounded belly and fell right into the dirt, spilling the entire contents of the bucket in the process. He too stumbled, and dropped what he'd been carrying.
"By the Gods, woman!" the man said indignantly, looking annoyed. "Can you not watch where you are going?"
Signe blushed deeper, painfully aware of the fact that the women had seen what had just happened and were giggling even more enthusiastically. "I am sorry," Signe apologized in a hurry. "I did not see you."
"That much is obvious," the man huffed. "Look at what you've done!" He gestured toward a number of fish lying in the dirt, which Signe could only assume he'd just caught from the same sea she'd fetched her water from. "Look at my fish!"
Signe got to her feet, cheeks still blazing, trying to ignore the crowd that had taken notice of the spectacle the man was making and were now watching with interest. "Forgive me if I have spoiled your food," she apologized again, trying to be cordial. "It was not my intention –"
"Whether it was your intention or no, you have ruined half my catch!" the man interrupted, his voice beginning to rise. "You stupid woman!" he continued to rant, taking a threatening step in Signe's direction. She took an unconscious step backward to keep space between them, but he only continued forward. He was right in front of her now, and looking very much like he wanted to slap her. "This was to feed my children! My family! You will pay for this, you foolish – "
"What in Odin's name is going on here?" a new voice interrupted, catching the attention of them both. Signe and the man glanced over, and it was with an inexplicable feeling of enormous relief that she realized it was Torstein. He had just emerged from the crowd and was looking back and forth between Signe and the man with furrowed brows. "Signe?" he asked, looking at her with a mixture of concern and alarm.
"I was not paying attention and ran into him by accident," she explained in a hurry.
"Just look at what the wench has done!" the man said, pointing out the fallen fish to Torstein.
Torstein observed the numerous fish on the ground, then quirked an eyebrow at the man. "I do not think a bit of dirt will harm your fish," he said with what sounded like forced patience. "A simple washing should do."
"But she – " the man began to protest.
"It was an accident," Torstein interrupted. "Accidents happen, do they not?" The man only grumbled in response. "Collect your fish and be on your way," Torstein said firmly. When the man sent Signe a dirty look, Torstein moved so that he was standing between Signe and the man. "Collect your fish, and be on your way," he repeated with emphasis. "This woman means you no harm or ill will. But hear me when I say that if you threaten her in any way, harm of another sort will come to you," he warned, his words full of promise. "Now go."
The man looked up at the blonde man towering over him by at least five inches, glanced at Signe one last time, then gave a curt nod. Torstein remained where he was while the man rounded up his fish, his shoulders visibly tense. Once the man had finally gone and the on looking crowd dispersed, Torstein relaxed and turned to her. Signe flushed again under his gaze, feeling both grateful to him for intervening, but embarrassed that he had had to come to her rescue. She was also uncomfortably aware how horrible she looked, something he was no doubt noticing as his eyes trailed over her face and dress. This was the first time they had seen each other since he'd shown her to the house she and Gunnar were occupying – she found herself wishing she had had time to clean herself up before being in his presence.
"Are you alright?" he asked, looking and sounding concerned.
"Yes," Signe answered with a jerky nod. "I am fine."
Torstein nodded, though he didn't seem entirely convinced by her response. "It is good I was passing by," he said. "I do not wish to think what he might have done if I had not."
"I would have been able to handle him," Signe snapped before she could give her words a second thought. "I am a shieldmaiden, not some helpless damsel who needs saving."
Torstein said nothing, merely raised his brows at the abrupt change in her demeanor. Signe pressed her lips together, guilt immediately coursing through her. Torstein had helped her – yet again – and the way she thanked him for that was by being rude and snapping at him? She knew her reaction was due in large part to stress and exhaustion, but that was really no excuse.
"Forgive me," Signe said, shamefaced. "That was rude. I did not mean to be so disrespectful."
"It is alright," Torstein assured her. Signe was relieved to see that he didn't look upset or annoyed by her reaction. "Is this yours?" he asked to change the subject, picking up the bucket she had dropped.
Signe nodded and accepted the bucket as he passed it to her. "I was carrying water back to the house when I ran into him. I vill have to go and collect more now," she said, frowning at the empty bucket. She was not looking forward to making yet another trip with a heavy bucket.
"Would you like me to help?" Torstein asked.
It was a kind offer, but she still shook her head. Between saving her life during battle, tending to her wounds post battle, helping her with Gunnar earlier that week, and now intervening with the angry Kattegat man, Torstein had already done more than enough to help her. She appreciated what he had done, of course, but she did not want to burden him, nor did she want him to think that she was someone he needed to keep rescuing.
"I can manage," she assured him politely.
Torstein pursed his lips a bit. Or she thought he did, anyway. It was a little difficult to see through his beard. "Then would you like company instead?"
Signe was beginning to think he wouldn't take no for answer, so she finally just nodded. "Alright."
With that they turned and started back in the direction Signe had just come, walking side by side. Signe couldn't resist glancing toward the group of women who had been laughing at her as they passed by. They were still whispering behind their hands, but they were looking at her and Torstein with interest rather than judgement, clearly intrigued by the fact that they were together. Signe tore her gaze from them and forced her eyes forward.
"Did you know that man?" she asked Torstein after a few moments to break the silence, sending a questioning glance up at the tall man.
"We are acquainted, but I would not consider him a friend," Torstein confirmed. "He is known to have a quick temper, especially when there is drink involved."
"I see," Signe said, nodding in understanding.
A beat of silence passed, then Torstein looked down at her. "How is your brother?"
Signe sighed before answering. "Better," she told him. "He is alert again, his fever has finally gone, and he can eat and drink regularly again. But he is still very weak. He cannot do anything on his own." Signe sighed again and squinted up at the sun shining overhead. "It will still be some time before he is well enough to return home, I feel."
Torstein nodded. "I am happy to hear he is improving," he told her sincerely.
"Thank you," Signe said, mustering up a small smile. They walked in silence for a few moments after that, both of them shooting glances at the other every now and again as they continued on toward the sea. Finally, Signe could not stand the silence any longer. "Thank you for stopping that man. For coming to my defense," she told him. "I might not have seemed grateful earlier, but I am."
"You are welcome," Torstein told her, giving her a single nod.
"Thank you for the company, as well," she added, smiling again. "I love my brother dearly, but it is refreshing to see a face that is not Gunnar's."
Torstein smirked in amusement for a moment, but then quirked a curious brow. "You have had no visitors?" he asked. When Signe shook her head, his expression took on one of great surprise. "Not even Bjorn?"
Normally the mention of her friend's name would have brought a smile to her face, may have even made her heart give a little flutter. But today, it immediately made her scowl. Bjorn, the man who had been her best friend for four years now, who claimed to care so deeply about her and her family, had not come to see her and Gunnar even once that week. He had not sent word, had not come to see how they were or if they needed anything…she had not even seen him around town whenever she ventured out of the house. It was almost like he wasn't even there, like he had disappeared into thin air.
"Bjorn, it seems, has more important matters to attend to than visiting with us," Signe informed in, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of her tone.
Torstein's brows furrowed again. "You have not heard from him?" Signe shook her head. Torstein 'hmph'ed in response to that. "I cannot see what would have kept him away from you and Gunnar for so long," he said, sounding genuinely confused. "I know he is happy to be back with his family and has been spending time with them, but surely he would wish to come and see you as well."
Signe just shrugged. She had made excuses for him at first. She'd told herself that he was probably doing things with his father, that he was bonding with his younger brothers. He was probably off hunting with them, or fishing, or any other number of things. Certainly he wasn't ignoring them on purpose, he was just…preoccupied. But as the days continued to pass without any sighting of him, her excuses ran out and she began to feel angry. Like Torstein, she too understood that he was excited to be back with his family. But he couldn't spare even an hour to come and check in on them? He couldn't even come to see how Gunnar, a man who was like a brother to him, was doing? She had never thought Bjorn to be a selfish or unfeeling person, but right now, with the way things had been going, her bitterness was beginning to make her view Bjorn in a different light.
"So I had believed as well," she agreed said, sighing. "Perhaps I was wrong."
Signe turned her gaze elsewhere, trying to silently signal to Torstein that she no longer wanted to talk about Bjorn. He seemed to take the hint, because he said nothing more. There was a frown on his face when she chanced a look at him though, leading her to believe that he didn't know what to make of the situation.
They walked in silence until they finally reached the sea. While Torstein waited on the sandy shore, Signe waded out into the water until she was shin-deep, then dipped the bucket into the sea, filling it to the brim. Grunting a bit, she carried the now heavy bucket back to the shore to rejoin Torstein. He watched her lug the bucket, his brows coming together again. Once she was back on land, he immediately stepped into her path and extended a hand.
"Hand it over," Torstein commanded.
"I can manage," Signe gently declined, even as her arms burned from the strain.
Torstein didn't move though, nor did he retract his hand. "Signe, you look as though you will fall over at any moment," he said, his expression disapproving. "I can help, so allow me to. Stop being stubborn and give me the bucket."
Signe thought about it for a moment longer, then finally passed it over. Torstein grabbed the rope handle and took it, looking completely unstrained as he accepted the weight of the heavy bucket. Signe, body singing in relief, pushed a lock of hair from her face and flashed him a small, grateful smile. "Again, thank you."
"Of course," he said, nodding.
They turned and started back toward the market, walking in companionable silence for a long few minutes. Signe kept glancing at Torstein from the corner of her eye, though, and she could tell that he was doing the same. She finally spoke, feeling like she needed to break the silence. "I hope I am not keeping you from anything important."
Torstein shook his head. "Not at all," he assured her. "I was just returning from a meeting with Ragnar. I vas on my way home when I saw that man shouting at you." When Signe just nodded, Torstein cast a scrutinizing look at her. "Are you sure you are well, Signe?" he asked again.
"Yes," she said, nodding. "It is not the first time I have been shouted at," she added with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I do not think it vill be the last, either."
Torstein didn't look convinced. "That is not what I meant," he replied. Signe, confused, shot him a questioning look. He hesitated, as though unsure whether he should say what was on his mind, then finally came out with it. "Have you seen yourself recently?" he asked cautiously.
Signe pressed her lips together and turned her eyes forward, fighting the urge to blush again with embarrassment. "I do not have to see myself to know I do not look well. I have seen the way people have been looking me," she admitted.
Torstein's lips pulled downward into another frown of concern. "I know you are taking care of your brother, but are you also taking care of yourself?"
Signe sighed and shrugged. "I try. But Gunnar needs me for everything. If he eats, I must hold the bowl and spoon. If he drinks, I have to hold his head and help him do it. If he needs to relieve his bladder, I am the one holding the bucket for him," Signe explained, her voice betraying her weariness. "I do not mean to neglect myself, but Gunnar keeps me so busy that there is hardly any time for my own needs."
Torstein made a sound of understanding, but still cast her a sideways look. "You seem to think that caring for others is more important than caring for yourself," he observed. "Your selflessness is admirable, Signe," he told her, his tone a bit more gentle now, "but you must take care of yourself, too. After all, who will look after Gunnar if you fall ill or are unable to care for him?" he asked, raising his brows.
Signe pursed her lips, knowing he was right. "I know. I will be more mindful of my own needs from this moment on," she promised. When Torstein seemed satisfied with her response, Signe gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you for your concern." She laughed then as she realized just how many times she had thanked him throughout their conversation, and shook her head. "I feel as though I am always thanking you for something. You must be tiring of hearing me say it."
Torstein smirked with amusement. "Not at all," he assured her.
The two shared a smile then, before turning their gazes forward as they continued on their way.
They reached the house the Signe and Gunnar were staying in not long after. Signe went to the door first and moved to open it so that Torstein could pass through with the bucket. When she swung the door open, however, she was met with a sight that she had not expected to see.
"Gunnar!" she half shouted in alarm, rushing forward. Torstein, alarmed by her shout, set the bucket down quickly and followed her. As she reached her brother, who was lying face down on the ground and letting out groans of pain, she dropped to her knees next to him. "Gunnar, are you alright?" she asked, concerned, trying to turn him gently so that he was not face down anymore. "What happened?"
"I wanted…fresh air," he managed out through clenched teeth, his expression one of pain. "Was too…weak. Fell down."
He let out another long groan of pain as he finished his explanation. It was obvious the fall had aggravated the wounds that were nowhere near completely healed and still very tender. Signe's momentary fear rapidly melted into irritation. She let out a heave of frustration and sat back on her heels, swinging her eyes up to meet Torstein's. His brows were furrowed as he met hers, but he said nothing, merely shrugged.
"You stupid man, Gunnar," Signe scolded, redirecting her attention back to her brother. "What were you thinking?"
"I vas thinking I was sick and tired of being in that bed," Gunnar growled out stubbornly, sending her a weak glare. "My body aches from lying down for so long. I needed to move around."
"Your body aches because you nearly died not even a fortnight ago, you fool," she reminded him through clenched teeth, feeling annoyed with him for attempting this endeavor without her. "If you wanted to walk around, you should have waited until I was here to help you!"
"I am a grown man," Gunnar shot back with as much force as he could muster. "I can walk on my own."
Signe had to take a deep breath before responding. Gunnar was normally a very easy going, kind-hearted man who almost always got along with everyone he met. But the constant pain from his wounds and the frustration of not being able to do anything for himself had left him in an uncharacteristically cranky mood these past few days. His constant moodiness was beginning to grate her nerves, but she was doing her very best not to get impatient with him.
"Clearly you can not," Signe retorted with forced patience. Shaking her head now, she looked back to Torstein. "Could you help me get him back into bed?"
Torstein gave a nod, then crouched down to lock his hands underneath Gunnar's armpits. Signe grabbed Gunnar by the feet, then, together, they hoisted him up from the floor. Gunnar let out a cry of pain as he was moved, but luckily the trip was a short one. They soon had him back onto the bed, where he continued to whimper a bit. Signe took a second to look him over and check his wounds, pushing clothes and bandages out of the way so she could see the damage better. Sure enough, some of the cuts she'd stitched closed had opened up again.
"Gunnar," Signe sighed, reaching up a hand to rub her forehead with weariness. "These will have to be cleaned and restitched." Signe gave her brother a hard look, unable to help feeling annoyed with him. "I hope you are proud of yourself, you imbecile."
"Not particularly," he admitted. It was around that time that he finally seemed to realize that Torstein was standing next to Signe. He gave the man a look, clearly recognizing him, then furrowed his brows. "I saw you speaking with Signe before the battle," he said, eyeing Torstein with something akin to suspicion. "Who is this man?" he asked, shifting his gaze to Signe. "And why is he here?"
"This is Torstein. He is a good friend of Earl Ragnar's," she told him sharply. "And he is here because he vas helping me, so do not be rude," she added with a stern look. As Gunnar grumbled something under his breath, Signe shot Torstein an apologetic look. "You will have to forgive him for his lack of manners. All of my brothers have always been annoyingly overprotective."
"That is something I have come to realize," Torstein said with a smirk, referring to the fact that Hallsteinn had always regarded him with distrust and aggression any time he saw Torstein with Signe. "Do not worry. I have never been one who is easily offended," Torstein then assured her.
Signe nodded, then looked back down at Gunnar with a heavy sigh before turning to head toward the bucket she and Torstein had brought back. Once she had ladled some of the water into a small pot and set it over the fire so it could be boiled and used for cleaning Gunnar's wounds, she went to the table on the far side of the room, where several of the supplies that she required when tending to Gunnar were laid out and readily available. "I need to start working on these wounds," she said, frowning to herself as she began picking out the things she would need.
Torstein trailed behind her, watching with interest as she sorted through her supplies. "Will you need assistance?" he asked. His eyes suddenly turned to the small basket of vegetables sitting on the far end of the table, which was all that was left of the food Signe had purchased a few days previous. His expression shifted and his brows furrowed, but as his gaze swept around the rest of the house, Signe found herself unable to determine what the look on his face meant.
"You have done more than enough already, Torstein," Signe said, her words making him shift his attention back to her. "The offer is appreciated, but I can handle this on my own. Besides, I suspect it vill take me some time to get all the wounds cleaned and restitched. I do not want to keep you any longer than I already have," Signe added.
"If you are certain…" Torstein said, his tone and expression hinting that she could still change her mind and accept his help.
"I am," Signe said, giving him a small smile over her shoulder.
Torstein nodded. "I will take my leave then," he said. "Gunnar, I am glad to have finally made your acquaintance," he called to her brother respectfully. Gunnar just grumbled in response, looking less than enthusiastic. Whether that was because he was in pain or because he didn't know what to make of Torstein, though, Signe did not know. Undeterred by Gunnar's reaction, Torstein looked back to Signe. "Goodbye for now, Signe," he told her.
"Goodbye," she said, nodding to him.
With that, Torstein turned and left, shooting her one last look over his shoulder before stepping back outside. Once he had shut the door behind him, Signe picked up her supplies and carried them over the bed. She did not miss the way Gunnar eyed her, nor the suspicion on his face. It reminded her very much of the way Hallsteinn had looked at her when he'd suspected there was something more than friendship between her and Torstein.
"I know what the look on your face means," she said, quirking a brow at him. "I am going to tell you the same thing I told Hallsteinn and Garik. Torstein is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less," she informed him firmly, in no mood to be bombarded with questions at the moment. "So do not pester me about it, understood?"
Gunnar looked at her a moment longer, then gave a half-hearted shrug. "Very well," he agreed. "But only because I do not have the energy to pester you at this moment," he added so that she would know this was not a subject he intended to drop completely.
"Fair enough," she said with resignation, before settling in and beginning the process of tending to Gunnar's wounds.
It was sundown by the time she had cleaned and restitched all the cuts that Gunnar had opened in his fall. With an aching back and fingers sore from continuous stitching, she used what was left of the boiled water to wash her hands, frowning when she saw that the sleeves of her dress were soaked through with Gunnar's blood halfway to the elbow. She let out a long sigh and shook her head, certain now that just a washing wouldn't do. With all the stains that had been soaked into the fabric over the past week, it was probably beyond saving by now.
"I am hungry," Gunnar announced, being very careful as he slowly sat up in bed and rested his back against the headboard.
Signe nodded. "I vill start on dinner," she said, drying her hands on a rag. "And be careful moving around," she added with a stern point to of her finger. "If you open any of those cuts back up, you vill be stitching them closed yourself."
Gunnar nodded, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Signe went over to the meager rations they'd been hanging on to and began sorting through them, trying to figure out what she could make. Finally she decided on the only meal that seemed possible, the same meal they'd had nearly every day that week – vegetable stew.
With a sigh, and knowing already that she'd be going to bed with an unsatisfied stomach, Signe got to work. She set more water over the fire for boiling, then began chopping the vegetables. Once the vegetables were in the water, she grabbed for a small jar of spices that she'd happened across when searching the house for useful objects and tossed in a pinch for flavor. While that began simmering, she unwrapped the bit of bread they had left to see if it was still good. She cursed under her breath upon seeing the layer of green mold that had covered nearly the entire portion, then rewrapped it and tossed it to the side.
A knock on the door pulled her out of her disappointment, making her straighten up with surprise. She glanced over at Gunnar, who had opened his eyes and was looking at the door with curiosity, then went to see who was calling on them. As angry as she had been at him, as bitter as she had been feeling, a small part of her hoped it was Bjorn finally coming to visit. When she opened the door, though, she felt a momentary flash of disappointment upon realizing it was not Bjorn on the other side. That disappointment was soon replaced by confusion, however, because the person who was standing there was someone she knew, only had not expected to see so soon.
"Torstein?" Signe asked as she gazed at the tall blonde, unsure why he had returned. He was carrying a pack with him, but she could not tell what was in it. "I was not expecting you. Did you leave an item of yours here by mistake?" she asked with a glance inside, looking for anything that might have belonged to him.
"No," Torstein said, shaking his head. "I have brought you some things," he explained, motioning to the pack hanging from his shoulder. "May I come inside?"
Signe nodded, dumbfounded, and stepped aside so he could come in. Gunnar also seemed taken aback by Torstein's quick return at first, but then narrowed his eyes some, his gaze following Torstein like a hawk. Signe shut the door and then went to the table, where Torstein had just deposited his pack. He opened it and pulled out two cloth-wrapped items, setting them on the table. Signe could tell at once just by the smell that it was food – freshly baked bread and, if she was guessing correctly, salted meat. He then pulled out a tankard of what she could assume was ale, followed by several crisp looking vegetables.
"What is this?" Signe asked quietly, tearing her eyes from the food to look at Torstein.
"Supper," he answered without hesitation.
Signe's jaw dropped and she swung disbelieving eyes at Gunnar, who had stopped looking at Torstein with suspicion and was now looking at him with shock. It was an incredibly generous – and incredibly unexpected – offer, but Signe could not help but feel that it was not right to accept it. "Torstein, we cannot – " she began to say.
"You can," he interrupted firmly, seemingly knowing what she'd been about to say. "And you will. Neither of you look as though you have had a decent meal in weeks. And while I am sure the," he leaned over to glance in the pot over the fire, "vegetable stew you were planning on having was going to be delicious," Signe did not miss the note of skepticism in his voice as he said this, "it vill not be enough."
"But this is your food," Signe protested. "We cannot take your food."
"You are not taking it," Torstein rebutted patiently. "I am giving it to you."
Signe opened and closed her mouth a few times, struggling with what to say next. She looked to her brother for help, but Gunnar, who seemed just as stunned as herself, only shrugged a shoulder in response. "Torstein, this is incredibly kind of you," Signe finally said. "But it is not your responsibility to take care of us," she pointed out. "I cannot simply take this food. Not without at least giving you some form of payment for it."
Torstein paused to think this over, then nodded. "Very well." He paused to think again, then seemed to come to a decision. "Allow me to join you both for dinner. That vill be payment enough," he stated, his tone holding a note of finality.
Signe did not think that would nearly be payment enough, but she also could tell that Torstein had made up his mind and was not going to accept anything more than that. She finally and reluctantly nodded. "If you insist," she said helplessly, shrugging her shoulders.
"I do," he said, smirking triumphantly now. "I also insist," he continued, turning back to his pack, "that you take some time for yourself and go to the bathhouse." He pulled out a folded up garment and passed it to her. "You may change into that when you are clean. The previous owner was a little shorter than you," he explained, giving her tall frame a once over, "but it should fit well enough."
Signe, gobsmacked, unfolded the garment and realized it was a plain working dress, similar to the one she was wearing now only exponentially cleaner. It did indeed look as though it would be a few inches too short, but the rest seemed as though it would fit perfectly. "What about Gunnar?" she asked weakly, struggling to process all that had happened in the past few minutes.
"I will stay with Gunnar," Torstein assured her. "The man looks like he could use some ale," he added, shooting a smirk in Gunnar's direction.
Signe wasn't all too sure that Gunnar needed to be drinking when he was still in such a weakened state, but when she looked over at her brother and saw the sudden gleam of eagerness that had entered his eyes at the prospect of alcohol, she finally just sighed in resignation. A drink or two wouldn't hurt him, she supposed. Besides, the call of the bathhouse was far too great to ignore. She was yearning desperately for a bath, and she knew Torstein would not only be capable of looking after Gunnar, but that he would also make sure her brother didn't overdo anything. This was a prime opportunity to see some of her own needs met, and she'd be a fool not to take advantage.
"Alright, then," Signe finally agreed. "But do not let him drink too much," she added sternly.
Torstein smiled and held up a hand. "Of course," he said, nodding.
Signe gazed at him for one more moment, glanced over at Gunnar, then finally draped her new dress over her arm. "Very well, then," she said, smiling a bit. "Thank you for this, Torstein," she told him sincerely.
"It is my pleasure," he said in response. "Now go and enjoy your bath," he said, waving her off. "And take your time," he added.
Signe nodded, then finally turned and headed for the door. She cast one last look at Torstein over her shoulder before stepping outside, amazed and surprised by the amount of generosity this man continued to show her, watching as he made quick work of pouring two cups of ale. Their eyes met for a moment, and Signe could not stop herself from smiling at him. After he returned her smile, she finally stepped outside and headed for the bathhouse.
Signe found the bathhouse empty, which was a rather large relief. Once she was inside, she wasted no time whatsoever to strip off her filthy clothing, toss it carelessly to the side, and slipped into the water, sighing in relief as her tired, aching body immediately relaxed.
For a long stretch of time she merely sat in the water, letting it soak her skin and soothe her muscles. After a while, though, she finally grabbed for a bar of soap and started scrubbing at her skin and hair, washing herself as thoroughly as possible. Once she was squeaky clean, she allowed herself another quarter hour or so to just relax in the water, but when her stomach gave a massive rumble and she remembered the dinner awaiting her, Signe decided to wrap things up and head back. She climbed out of the water, dried off, then slid into the dress Torstein had given her. The hem stopped a good few inches above her ankles, but it fit fine everywhere else. Signe smoothed her hands over the material and smiled, finding that there were no words to express how wonderful it felt to be wearing something clean. After coming her fingers through her hair to get it in order, she grabbed her abandoned dress, slipped her shoes on, and headed back to the house.
The house smelled of fresh bread and cooking meat when she walked back inside, making her mouth water and her stomach growl hungrily. As she stepped inside and shut the door behind her, she found Torstein sitting in a chair next to the bed Gunnar occupied. The two were still drinking ale and chatting casually with one another. Gunnar, it seemed, had grown more comfortable with Torstein and was no longer regarding the man with suspicion or distrust, though whether that was because they'd had some time to get to know each other a little better or because of the alcohol, Signe didn't know.
"There she is," Gunnar said, smiling widely as his attention shifted to Signe. Torstein also looked in her direction, his eyes looking her up and down. "My favorite sister!"
Signe quirked a brow. Normally Gunnar could handle his alcohol pretty well, but the drink seemed to be affecting him faster in his weakened condition. "I am your only sister," she reminded him.
"But still my favorite," Gunnar rebutted, shrugging as he took another drink of his ale.
Signe shifted her attention to Torstein as he stood from his chair. He gave her another approving once over, then raised his brows at her as their gazes locked. "You look much better," he told her, smiling slightly.
"I feel much better," Signe confirmed, feeling like a new woman now that she was clean. "He has not been too much trouble, has he?" she asked, glancing pointedly in her brother's direction.
Torstein waved a hand and shook his head. "None at all," he told her reassuringly. "We have merely been drinking and telling each other of past raids," he said, raising his cup to her brother.
"Torstein told me of England, and it sounds even more fascinating than we already believed it to be, Signe," Gunnar said with enthusiasm, his words slurring just the tiniest bit. "We must go whenever Earl Ragnar ventures there next. I vill even beg at the man's feet if I have to," he added, spilling a bit of his ale on his bed as he motioned wildly with his arm.
Signe crossed her arms over her chest. "You, dear brother, vill not be raiding anywhere until you are well again," she reminded him. "Perhaps you should focus more on getting better than trying to find a way onto Earl Ragnar's boats, yes?" she then suggested with a quirk of her brow.
Gunnar made a dismissive sound and waved her words off with another wild swing on his arm, spilling more ale in the process. "I vill be well again soon enough," he argued back matter-of-factly. "If we wish to go west, we must start planning now," he proclaimed, before raising his cup to his lips and draining what was left of his ale.
Signe looked over at Torstein, who gazed back at her with raised brows. "How many has he had?" she asked, hoping Torstein had kept his word and not let him drink too much.
"This is only his second ale, I swear," Torstein quickly answered. "And I did not even fill his cup to the top."
Signe nodded, then went over to Gunnar's bed and plucked the empty cup from his grasp. "Another?" Gunnar asked hopefully.
"No. You have had enough for one night," Signe told him firmly. Gunnar began to protest, but she held a hand up and clicked her tongue to silence him. "Do not argue with me. You are weak from your wounds and still have much healing to do. You do not need more drink," she informed him in a tone that booked no argument. "Now sit there and rest while I tend to the food."
Gunnar grumbled under his breath, but did not argue any further. Signe turned to walk over to the fire, where the meat had been placed on a spit and was cooking over the flames. She paused to fill the cup in her hand with ale, took a drink, then went to turn the meat. Torstein appeared by her side only moments later, his eyes gazing at a slightly moody Gunnar first, then turning to her. If she wasn't mistaken, he looked a little impressed.
"I seem to recall you telling me once that you have no trouble handling loud, drunken men," he said, reminding her of the very first conversation they'd had with each other, back when they'd been at their camp the night before the battle against Jarl Borg. "It would appear you were telling the truth," he continued, smirking at her now.
Signe smiled a bit and shrugged. "I grew up with four older brothers, all of whom are much bigger than myself, very strong willed, and took great pleasure in tormenting me in our childhood," she explained. "We also lost our mother when we were young, which meant I became the woman of the house when I was only a girl. I had to learn at a very young age how to hold my own against them, not just to defend myself against my brothers whenever they grew rowdy, but so I could take care of them in my mother's stead, as well."
At the mention of her mother's death, Torstein's expression filled with a combination of interest and sympathy. "I did not know your mother was dead. I am sorry to hear it."
Signe smiled slightly. "Thank you," she told him, nodding.
A slightly awkward moment of silence passed between them, then Torstein nodded toward the cooking meat. "Would you like me to help?" he offered.
Signe smiled at him and shook her head. "You have done more than enough, Torstein. Sit and rest," she instructed motioning to a nearby chair. "I will finish with the food."
Torstein hesitated for only a second, but finally nodded and went to sit down, but not before refilling his drink.
While Signe finished up supper, she and Torstein made small, idle talk about whatever came to mind. Eventually Gunnar, who'd been a little moody after Signe cut him off from his alcohol, got over his previous irritation and began talking with them, jumping in here or there to contribute to the conversation. Once their meal of meat, fresh vegetables, and bread was ready, Signe filled up plates for Gunnar and Torstein first, then herself. She and Torstein pulled their chairs over to Gunnar's bed so they could be near him and, together, they all ate dinner.
Once they were all finished eating, it wasn't very long before Gunnar, exhausted from a combination of ale, the activity of the day, and a very filling meal, fell asleep. Signe grabbed his plate and pulled the covers up around his shoulders, smiling as he snored quietly with sleep. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced over at Torstein, who had relocated and was now sitting next to the hearth. He had been watching her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher, but when their gazes met, he quickly shifted his eyes to the flames flickering before him. Signe left Gunnar to his rest and took his plate to the washing bucket, slipping it into the water so that it would soak with hers and Torstein's plates. Then she grabbed her horn cup, the pitcher of ale, and went to join Torstein.
"More ale?" she asked once she stood next to the chair he sat in, wiggling the pitcher invitingly. She didn't know how long he intended to stay now that dinner was finished, but she was not about to send him away if he was not ready to leave, not after all he had done for her and Gunnar.
"Sure," he said with a nod, offering her his cup. Signe filled it to the brim, smiling at him gently when their gazes met again. "Thank you," he said.
"You are welcome," Signe said, moving to sit in the chair next to his. She filled her own cup, then set the pitcher off to the side and got comfortable in her seat, sighing quietly. "This is the most content I have felt since I arrived in Kattegat," she told him, smiling. "I simply cannot thank you enough for all you have done for us," she added sincerely.
"I was happy to help," Torstein assured her with a firm nod.
A comfortable silence fell between them as they sipped their ale and gazed at the hearth. Eventually Signe shifted her attention back to Torstein, her eyes surveying him with curiosity. She was realizing in that moment that even though this was at least the fourth or fifth time she had found herself in his company, she hardly knew anything about him.
"Tell me about yourself," she urged to break the silence, making his eyes jump back to hers. "I feel as though you know much about me, yet I know so little about you," she added.
"What do you wish to know?" he asked, raising his brows.
Signe shrugged. "Anything you wish to tell me," she answered.
Torstein thought it over for a moment, then nodded. "Very well," he said, settling further into his chair and crossing his legs casually at the ankle, making himself comfortable. "I was born in a small village west of here. By foot, it takes a week's worth of travel to reach it," he started. "I lived there with my father, my mother, my older brother, and my younger sister all through my childhood. I did not come to live in Kattegat until I was nearly thirteen years of age."
"Why did you move?" Signe asked curiously.
At that question, Torstein frowned some. "We moved after my father and brother died," he revealed.
Signe couldn't help the small sound of surprise that escaped her lips at Torstein's revelation. "Oh," she said, a little caught off guard by the serious turn the conversation had taken. "How…how did it happen?" she asked with slight hesitation, hoping he would not be angry that she had asked.
"They were raiding in the east," Torstein told her. "My father had gone many times before, but it was my brother's first time joining him." He paused, then sighed. "According to one of the other warriors that had travelled with them, my brother was killed during a skirmish with one of the Baltic clans. My father died trying to save him," he explained.
Signe's frown of sympathy was instantaneous. "I am very sorry to hear that, Torstein," she told him sincerely.
He nodded a bit, then shrugged a shoulder. "It vas a long time ago," he said, though the look in his eyes told her he was grateful for her words of condolence. He fell silent and took a moment to take a long gulp of ale, then spoke again. "Anyway," he continued, "after they went to Valhalla, my mother struggled to provide for myself and my sister. I tried to help as much as I could, but vas young and could only do so much. After about a year, she reached out to her brother, who lived here in Kattegat. He quickly offered to take us in. I have been here ever since," he finished explaining.
Signe nodded her understanding. "What about the rest of your family? Are they still here?"
Torstein shook his head. "Both my mother and my uncle passed on several years ago from illness," he told her, frowning again for a brief moment. Signe felt another wave of sympathy for him. Losing one parent was difficult enough, but losing both? She didn't even want to imagine it. "But my sister, Tóra, is alive and well. She fell in love with a man from a village a little ways south of here and married him," he said next, his expression brightening some at the mention of his only surviving family member. "They live there now with their son. I visit them as often as I can," he told her.
"I am glad your sister is well," she told him, relieved to know that even though he had lost so many of his loved ones, Torstein at least still had his younger sister.
"As am I," he said in agreement.
They fell silent again and took a moment to sip their ale. When Gunnar stirred in his bed, they both paused and looked in his direction. Signe sat a little straighter, prepared to go and help him if he needed anything, but after Gunnar turned onto his other side and settled back into his peaceful slumber, she relaxed in her seat again.
"So," Signe said to break the momentary silence. "How did you come to know Earl Ragnar?"
"I met him through Floki," he said, referring to the strange, lanky man Signe often saw Torstein with. "Floki and I became friends fairly quickly after I came to Kattegat, and Floki was already friends with Ragnar. It was only a matter of time before I befriended him as well," he explained simply.
"You seem very close to them," Signe commented.
Torstein nodded. "They are like brothers to me."
Signe smiled and nodded in understanding, then took another drink of her ale. As she lowered her cup back to her lap, she noticed that she'd gotten some of the juice from the meat they'd had for dinner on the skirt of her new dress. Clicking her tongue with disapproval, she wiped at the stain with her thumb to try to remove it. "Only an hour in this dress, and already I am staining it," she said, shaking her head.
"It will be fine, I am sure," Torstein assured her, waving a nonchalant hand.
Signe wiped at the stain one last time, then looked at Torstein with curious eyes. "I did not think to ask earlier, but to whom did this dress belong?" she asked. "Was it…" She hesitated, unsure if she should ask her next question, but also unsure why she wanted to ask her next question. "Was it a wife's dress?" Signe finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Torstein laughed a bit. "No," he answered at once. "I have never been married," he then told her. As surprised as she was to learn that Torstein had never taken a wife, she nodded her understanding. "There is an older woman who lives near me that I am on friendly terms with," Torstein proceeded to explain. "I went to her after I left this afternoon and told her of your situation. She was more than happy to offer one of her daughter's old dresses. She also provided the bread and some of the vegetables."
"That was very kind of her," she said, feeling rather touched that Torstein's neighbor had been so willing to help her, a complete stranger. "I would like to meet her, that way I may thank her for her graciousness."
"I can take you to her some time," Torstein offered. "She lives alone now, so she enjoys having company. I think she would like very much like to meet you."
"That would be nice," Signe said, smiling. "I vould like to see her soon, but I vould also hate to turn up without something to gift her with in return for her generosity," she mused aloud. "I have little to offer, though. I do not have much money, and I do not think she would be interested in vegetable stew," she added, casting a wry look at the pot of abandoned stew.
"She would not take money from you even if you offered it," Torstein told her matter-of-factly. He frowned pensively for a moment, then shot her a curious look. "Do you hunt?"
Signe nodded. "I am not the best at it," she confessed, "but I am decent enough."
"Then why not go hunting and give part of our catch to Hilda?" he suggested, referring to the woman by her name now. "That way you would have food for you and Gunnar to eat," he said, nodding to her brother, "and you would be able to repay her for her kindness."
"You believe she would be content with that?" Signe asked.
Torstein nodded. "I do."
Signe thought about it, then nodded. "That sounds like a good plan…yet, I do not have a bow with me, and I would imagine trying to hunt with my battle axe might prove to be quite difficult," she added with a hint of doubt in her voice.
"I have an extra bow you could use," Torstein said with a nod.
"You are sure?" When Torstein just nodded again, Signe smiled. "It is decided then."
Silence fell between them again after that. While the fire crackled away in the hearth, Signe drank some more of her ale, feeling a little excited. After being cooped up in the house all week and doing nothing but nursing her brother back to health, she could hardly wait to go out into the wild and hunt with Torstein. It would feel good to stretch her legs, to be in the fresh air, to be doing something other than tending to Gunnar. Admittedly, there was a part of her that was also rather looking forward to getting to spend a bit more time with Torstein. He was proving himself to be a good man, as well as a good ally to have here in Kattegat. Signe was beginning to enjoy the friendship that seemed to be growing between them.
She didn't know if it was the alcohol, her full belly, or the mesmerizing flames dancing in the hearth, but suddenly her eyelids began to feel much heavier than they had only moments ago. Signe blinked and straightened up in her chair, trying to make herself feel alert again, but the exhaustion she'd been feeling all day long had become impossible to ignore. A yawn escaped her lips, and even though she tried very hard to hide it from Torstein, he noticed it anyway.
"You look as though you will fall asleep at any moment," he commented with a tinge of amusement. "I should go and leave you to your rest," he said, nodding.
Signe looked over at him and frowned, hoping she hadn't offended him in any way. "Forgive me," she said, smiling apologetically, "I am not bored with your company, I assure you. It has merely been a very long and," she raised a hand to her mouth and yawned again, "trying week," she finished. "I feel it is all catching up to me in this very moment."
Torstein waved her words away, looking nonplussed. "There is no need to apologize. You have been working hard to help Gunnar. I understand your exhaustion." Torstein downed the rest of his ale, then stood from his seat. "I should be getting home, anyway."
Signe set her own ale off to the side and followed his suit. "Would you like to take – ?" she began to ask, gesturing to the ale and the leftover food.
"Keep it," Torstein interjected gently. "I have plenty of food at home." Signe nodded, then watched as he went to grab the pack he'd brought with him, emptying it of whatever contents were left inside. He then placed the empty pack over his shoulder and turned to her. "Do you require anything before I take my leave?" he asked.
Signe smiled softly and shook her head. "No. You have done plenty, Torstein," she insisted for what felt like the dozenth time that day. "Thank you."
Torstein nodded, then turned to walk to the door. Signe followed him, eyes trained on his broad back as he opened the door, allowing the cool, night air outside to filter into the house. He stepped outside, having to duck so that he wouldn't hit his head on the doorframe, then turned back to her. "I have tasks to see to tomorrow, but I shall come by the day after so that we may hunt," he told her. Signe nodded her agreement, already looking forward to it. "Sleep well tonight. You have earned it," he said. "And though I have said this before, I shall say it again now…if you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask," he said, giving her a firm look.
Signe nodded, and with that Torstein inclined his head and turned to leave. She lingered in the doorway, one hand resting on the open door, her lips pursed with thought. Finally, Signe had to ask the question that had been hovering in the back of her mind all evening long.
"Torstein?" He paused only a few steps away and turned back to her, brows raised expectantly. "Why do you keep helping me?" she asked, allowing her confusion to ring clearly in her words. When he seemed surprised by her question, Signe spoke again. "I just…" She hesitated, searching for the right words. "Surely you have more important things to do than burden yourself with some silly woman you hardly know," she said, giving a small, self-deprecating laugh.
Torstein took a second to consider her question. "I do not think you are a burden, Signe, nor that you are silly. Not in the slightest," he told her, his tone and expression very serious. It made Signe sober up instantly. "And I am helping you because I want to," he added pointedly.
Signe didn't know what she had expected him to say in response, but she certainly had not expected that. She pressed her lips together, a feeling she couldn't quite place entering her belly, and finally nodded in response, unable to think of anything to say to that. Torstein held her gaze for one more moment, as though trying to silently convey something to her, then inclined his head to her respectfully.
"Goodnight, Signe," he said.
"Goodnight, Torstein," Signe told him, her tone soft.
With that, Torstein finally turned and headed off down the road, walking toward the heart of Kattegat. Signe stayed right where she was, his words echoing in her head as she watched his tall, broad frame grow smaller and smaller into the distance. Finally, when she could no longer see him, she went back inside and closed the door.
Thoughts? How do we like Torstein and Signe's relationship so far?