"Sigurd." Siggy said, her voice determined. "I need your help."
Sigurd froze for a moment at the door, lost, not knowing what to say or do. He looked at her beautiful and filthy niece. Her eyes were red. She had been crying. And he could still smell anger and resentment around her. Her appointment with Bjorn did not end well as he could see. Sigurd sighed.
"Come in." he said as he opened the door wide to let her enter.
"Thank you." Siggy said, entering the longhouse Bjorn so gracefully gave his brothers after his mother took Kattegat back for him - as well as all the territories Ragnar inherited, not to mention Aslaug's.
She sat on a chair near the hearth and looked around, her eyes lingering on the many weapons in the great room. Axes, mostly; Ivar's. Siggy gave a mocking laugh. He was always wanting to be crueler to compensate for the cruel fate of being a cripple.
"Is Ivar here?" she aked.
"Not yet." Sigurd answered. "He had some things to do downtown."
"Preparing another army to avenge your father in Wessex?"
"I suppose..." Sigurd said. "But I believe it is because he wants to conquer like our father did. He always talks about war and glory. You know Ivar; he is not keen on revealing his plans. Even to his brothers. Ubbe is the only one he trusts. And even to him, he tells little."
"Is he still planning on avenging Aslaug?" Siggy asked.
"He is."
"If he wants someone to help him, tell him I'm in." Siggy said.
Sigurd sighed and went to fetch some ale. He drank and sighed again. He wondered why they all talked of war when peace was possible. He wondered what drove the world to be so cruel, merciless and violent. He wondered why he was the only one to seek after a brighter future, free from chaos and death. Why, among his family, was he the only one to seek justice and not chaos? Why did the gods fill his niece and brother with such hatred?
Perhaps he was not a true son of Ragnar; too calm. Too soft, like Ivar loved to repeat.
"Why would you want to help him?" Sigurd asked, pouring some ale in a cup Siggy took from the table. "This does not concerns you."
"Her blood runs through my veins. Of course it concerns me." Siggy said.
"The world changes, Sig. Every day kings fall. It is fate and we cannot change it." Sigurd said. "I chose not to avenge my mother because I deem that blood had been shed enough. Now, I want peace."
Siggy stopped drinking and stared at him for a long moment of silence broken by the crackling sounds of the fire.
"What?" Sigurd asked.
"You almost sounds like your mother." Siggy noted. "So confident about fate and what the Norns have woven. So compassionate and forgiving. Soft."
"Shut up!" Sigurd said, half amused, half angered. "I am not my mother. I am not my father. They abandonned me! Both of them! Why would I even be like them?! I want to be myself!"
Siggy grinned and drank. "I know. I understand."
Sigurd closed his eyes for a moment. "Why do you despise Lagertha so much? When every woman admire her. And every man, bed her."
"Cunts!" Siggy spat with hatred. "Blind stupid girls barely grown! The great Lagertha! The great shieldmaiden! Mother, Earl, Queen! They give her all qualities and virtues when she is nothing but hatred and cowardice! They consider her as a goddess! A goddess who seized something that wasn't her under false reasons! A woman who fell into madness! A woman who abandonned me! A woman so stupid she was usurped! Blind cunts who does not see her true nature. She abandonned me! Never cared for me! Forgot me because I was not good enough! Because I was just a poor little girl; a child her son did not care for. She worships her son, he cannot do any wrong. So it is I who must be bad."
Siggy drank the rest of her ale, seething with anger.
"She abandonned me. I have no family. She is nothing to me but a usurper."
Sigurd looked at her for a moment. Sometimes he wondered if she wasn't a Valkyrie; sometimes, he wondered if she wasn't a wolf. She was so fierce and longing for recognition. Siggy who lived among the wolves and was taken back by another brave little girl, then, fought for her honor and for herself. Would it had changed anything if Aslaug raised her? Would she be a spoiled princess? Would she still be fierce and learned how to wield a sword? Questions the Norns chose to elude.
"So what did Bjorn wanted with you?" he asked.
Siggy gave a laugh. "That's the reason why I came actually."
"Will you tell me or should I practice the Seidr to know?" Sigurd joked.
Siggy laughed again. "He wanted to announce my marriage with a prince... Rognvald? Yes. Rognvald."
Sigurd spat his ale which produced a high flame in the hearth. "What?" he exclaimed, wiping his mouth.
"He said I was to be married by force if he desired so. But I won't have it. I cannot be a pawn he uses however he pleases. That is why I came." Siggy confessed. "You talked about a journey to Wessex. I want to go with you."
"How?" Sigurd exclaimed. "Bjorn has spies everywhere! He'll have you followed! How can I take you with me?"
"Hide me." Siggy said.
"Bjorn will know it it you." Sigurd replied
"No. I'll just have to cover my face with mud. Bjorn won't tell the difference. He never paid attention to my face. He doesn't know what I truly look like." Siggy bitterly said. "Sigurd, please. I want to fight."
Sigurd stroked his growing beard, thinking. "Hm..." he said. "Between your anger and Bjorn's, I think I'll go with the latter. You are way too terrifying when you are angry. I do not want to die yet... I'll take you with me."
Siggy's face suddenly lit with a wide smile; a beautiful smile. It was when she smiled that Sigurd realized she was a beautiful woman. Her eyes were soft as the sky in summer and her smile was Baldr's warmth. Anger leaving, her natural beauty glowed like the midnight sun.
"Thank you Sig!" she yelled.
Suddenly, the door opened. Siggy started and looked around; and saw no one. Then, as a reflex, she looked down and saw Ivar crawling to the table. Sigurd steered and defiantly looked at his brother, sitting on the chair next to him, his powerful muscles hoisting him on it. Siggy often marveled at the strength in his arms. If there was something she respected, it was strength. In spite of his legs, Ivar was a handsome man. But his beauty was cruel and cold; his eyes were of the color of ice, his jaw was sharp and stern and the way he crawled reminded of of a serpent. Ivar's beauty was cruel and it drove all women to him, entranced and mesmerized, and his axe, his thirst for blood and violence, infinite.
Siggy was wary of him and learned long ago not to underestimate him. But in spite of the anger consuming Ivar, she was angrier and took an intense pleasure reminding him of it. He was fire and ice; she was chaos.
Ivar looked at Sigurd, his hand on his axe and gave a cruel grin. Siggy gave him a glare he noticed. He tilted his head and looked at her intensely. Siggy borne his eyes with the same menace he showed. He was a serpent, she was a wolf. Her fangs were strong and sharp; she would eat him.
"Siggy." Ivar seethed. "To what do we owe the displeasure of your visit, in our modest cabin? Princess."
"Call me princess one more time, cripple, and I will drown you in the sea and offer your soul to Ran." Siggy replied.
Ivar chuckled, cold and cruel. When she saw her smile, Siggy understood why all women were attracted to him. It was true he was handsome. If he was more innocent, perhaps he would have been the most handsome man she had ever met. But innocence left him long ago.
"And what if I kill you with my axe, huh? Who would miss you?" Ivar seethed back, angrier and crueler.
"I would." Sigurd said.
"That is because you are soft. Like those Christians." he spat.
"Who said I am a Christian?" Sigurd replied, angered. "Odin visits my dreams every night! Sif even blessed my hair! It would be a dishonor to break my beliefs and reject the legacy mother gave me with my name! I must honor the gods; our ancestors."
"They would be ashamed of you!" Ivar yelled. "You do not honor them! You do not worship the true gods! Those made of blood and wrath! You betrayed yourself! You betrayed mother!"
"Misses the time she was breastfeeding you? How did it tasted like? Divinity? Tell me, did she have the tits of a god?" Sigurd yelled.
Ivar gave a long scream of rage and waved his axe towards Sigurd's head. But Siggy saw. And Siggy acted. With her own axe she stopped Ivar's, took it and threw it in a pillar nearby. Siggy growled; her inner beast awakened.
"Don't..." she seethed, mad with ire. "You.. ever dare... to attack him like that! Or I'll rip off your throat with my teeth and cover the whole world with your blood! Cripple!"
Ivar looked at her for a moment, breathing heavily out of anger and madness. His eyes became nothing but violence and chaos. For a brief moment, Siggy believed he would kill her.
Let him try, she told herself.
Then, he grinned; a grin without joy. "A Sig that isn't soft." he said.
Siggy frowned and growled. "It is long ago I lost innocence Ivar. It is long ago I am not soft anymore. I might have been soft if your mother cared for me like she promised. But she broke that promise. I am surprised all the years she cared for you did not turn you into a softer man, but perhaps it is just your eyes and smile that are soft."
"A compliment? Is it Ragnarok?" Ivar mocked.
"Your mother betrayed me." Siggy seethed. "You all betrayed me except Sigurd! I have no family but him! If you kill him, I will sow havoc upon you!"
"I can't wait!" Ivar replied.
"Good. Because I will feast on your blood and see if your mother's divine tits brought you any good!" Siggy snarled.
Ivar gave another laugh with no joy and drank some ale. "So why are you here?"
"To officialise with Sigurd my departure with him tomorrow." Siggy said. "Bjorn wants to offer my hand in marriage and wants to keep me here as a precious pawn in a game he is not even the master of. Screw him! I won't obey! Sigurd will go to raid in Northumbria. I want to join."
"So you are ready to anger Bjorn?" Ivar asked with disdain. "I like that plan. The thought of him losing is satisfying."
Siggy grinned. If there was something she liked in Ivar, it was his dsidain and dislike of his older brother. There had been a time, once when they were close, but Lagertha's invasion of Kattegat and murder of his mother killed that love as cruelly as one of his axes.
"What will you do in Northumbria?" Ivar asked Sigurd.
"Raid of course." Sigurd said. "I want to join Ubbe and Hvitserk in Wessex and lead a great army to kill Aelle. And when it is done, I intend on settling there. There is nothing in Kattegat and Gotaland for us anymore. Father's territories have been taken by Lagertha and Bjorn. I want my own land now."
"Will you kill Christians?" Ivar asked.
"Of course I will!" Sigurd replied.
"Then maybe I will join and help you." Ivar said. "I am tired of Kattegat and seeing Bjorn and his whore, Torvi, on mother's throne and sleeping in her bed when the usurper is not. I am tired of Lagertha's presence here when I cannot kill her yet. I will join you Sigurd; as well as the jarls and godis I met today. I need blood."
"You give up on vengeance then?" Siggy asked, shocked.
Ivar gave a laugh and threw his head back. "No. Of course not. Vengeance for a disonorable action shall be fulfilled. I do not seek for justice or compensation for none of those things will bring my mother back. No. I want revenge and I know how to fulfill it."
"Will she suffer?" Siggy asked with a cruel joy.
Ivar looked at her and for a brief moment, it was as if no hatred had ever existed between the two of them. "Of course she will."
Sigurd looked at his brother intensely for a few minutes in disbelief. Was it possible that Ivar might truly want to join him? Was it possible they came to a truce of some sort between them? Was it possible that Ivar might listen to reason? Was it possible he accepted without menacing him with his axe?
"So you'll come?" Sigurd asked.
"Are you deaf?" Ivar replied, angered. "I'll come!"
Sigurd smiled and so did Ivar. For a blessed moment, there was peace and agreement between them; and they looked like the close brothers they should have always been. Siggy enjoyed those moments; it reminded her that peace was possible. But it hollowed her heart knowing that there would never be such peace for her. She had no sister; no family. She was nameless. Alone.
"So if you come," Ivar began, suddenly softer. "Does this mean Boda comes too?"
"Shit!" Siggy suddenly exclaimed. "Boda! I forgot to tell her! I cannot go now that Bjorn is having me watched! Shit, shit, shit!"
"I'll go tell her." Ivar said.
Siggy's jaw dropped and she looked intensely at Ivar in front of her. Sigurd frowned and drank some ale. He was aware of Ivar's close relationship with Angrboda as her healer and he was jealous of it. Ever since they were children, him and Boda had been friend; best friends. And somehow, he had wished she became his wife one day. But Ivar had seen through it and as jealous and envious he had always been from Sigurd, he had wanted to steal that relationship. Sigurd felt stripped from everything he ever had by a man his mother considered like a god. Sigurd hated this. Mothers priviledging one of their children over another were not women he liked.
"What do you mean, you'll go tell her?" Siggy asked with disbelief. "What about Bjorn's spies? What makes you think he won't be wary of you?"
"I am a cripple, remember?" Ivar said, grinning cruelly. "And Bjorn does not know me enough to be wary of me. Besides, there is nothing wrong for a cripple to go see his personal healer and his master. No?"
"Sounds logical, indeed." Siggy whispered.
"But I would enjoy them to catch me." Ivar said. "It will give me the occasion to feed my axe with their blood."
"Departure is tomorrow at dawn." Sigurd said. "I'll hide Siggy in the boat with the help of a few of my men."
"And Gye Torsteinsdottir and Horsten Torsteinsson?" Siggy asked. "Will they be part of the raid?"
"They are old enough. But with them, I only fear that they might kill one another." Sigurd said. "Siblings wanting one another's death is dangerous for an endeavour such as ours." he finished looking straight to Ivar.
Ivar gave a cold laugh and then looked again at Sigurd, brows furrowed, with a displeased expression on his face.
"I'll try not to kill you on the battlefield." he snarled.
"Murder is dishonorable." Siggy harshly said. "But if you kill him, I won't hesitate to bring dishonor on me. Fuck justice and compensation!"
"You said that once. Will you truly kill me? Or is it just an act?" Ivar spat with disdain.
Siggy suddenly saw red. She stood up and jumped by Ivar's side of the table. Then, with all her strength, she punched him in the jaw. She struck so hard she heard his bones crack. But she wanted to do more. She wanted to rip off his throat with her teeth, to ravage his face with her nails. To destroy what made him so handsome and so dangerous; so alluring. She wanted wrath and destruction.
"And this was only me being nice." she seethed.
Ivar grinned, amused, and put his jaw back in place. "Impressive." he seethed back. "And now, you gave me a good reason to go see my favorite healer and woman. Thank you, princess."
"Tell Boda I am sorry." Siggy said.
"No." Ivar replied.
Then, he left the house, crawling like a snake; like one of those who ate and destroyed his father. And this snake, born to die and yet to strong and hungry for fame and blood, was one of the most dangerous for his father's name.
Angrboda was carefully choosing herbs and other plants, preparing ointments and medicine for her mother and father and as well for Ivar in the house of her parents. Siggy wasn't home yet. Angrboda wondered if she was alright and if her appointment with Bjorn had been good.
Her hands mechanically mixed the herbs in her bowl and removed the stems of the flowers she wanted to use. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sounds of her father working below and her mother singing, not far away, harvesting mushrooms for dinner. The forest was peace and quiet. And the calm breathing on the water in the fjord was only increasing that peace.
As she worked, she recalled how she worked with Aslaug; how she taught her in her great hall. How she often wept over Ivar's disability; how she wept with worries at the idea of Ubbe and Hvisterk so far away with their father, at war, in danger; and how she wept for Sigurd who would never love her although she had given him, through his name, all the love and expectations a mother could have towards one of her son. Angrboda recalled all those afternoon, weaving magic and learning how to master the sight although she had never been able to.
Angrboda recalled the time when she was alive and loved; the time her own mother visited Aslaug and how they joyfully chattered. She recalled how close they were. And how saddened Helga had been when Lagertha killed Aslaug in her madness. Seeing two women she deeply loved at war for nothing but a man had kept Helga forever away from Kattegat. This place was cursed and Helga wanted to avoid the memories. Helga was light and the town's darkness consumed her. Only her father could stand it.
Angrboda recalled light and joy. Her father was wrong; the gods were not all but darkness and violence. The gods were mischief and happiness too. Valhalla was golden and bright. The Bifröst was colorful, vibrant and beautiful. Her father was blind. And unlike Odin, he had both his eyes. Her father was blind but not her nor her mother.
Light and life filled Midgard.
All of a sudden the door moved with a squeal of protest. Angrboda started and looked at the door. She gave a sigh of relief when she saw a man crawling on the floor. She gave a smile and helped him onto a chair. Ivar replied to her smile with one of his; one of those who made women shiver with lust.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Angrboda asked as she went back to her work.
"Siggy broke my jaw." Ivar said.
"And yet, you can speak perfectly." Angrboda joked. "How is she? Was her appointment with Bjorn good?"
"I will only tell you if you give me a kiss." Ivar replied.
"If you won't answer, perhaps I shall ask Sigurd. At least he is polite enough not to ask for unrequired kisses." Angrboda said without looking at him.
Ivar growled and grabbed her wrist, anger slowly rising. Angrboda turned and considered his hand for a moment. Then, she rose her sight to his, locking her eyes on his. At this moment, she was in such anger it seemed like chaos and destruction was about to be brought upon men. Nothing was as terrifying than a storm striking in the middle of a peaceful day.
Ivar noticed the rage in her eyes and released her wrist, frightened by the woman in front of him, as powerful and mighty as a goddess. Not only did she frightened him, but she also aroused him and his interest.
"I am sorry." Ivar said.
"No, you are not." Angrboda said with a fierce voice. "If you care for your life, I strongly advise you not to do this again. I am not a weak woman. Always remember that your mother taught me all I know and more. Always remember that I can heal and kill."
Ivar nodded and his features softened. Every day, he was more convinced that Angrboda was a goddess and he wondered if one day, she will have outdone this stage in his eyes.
"Now tell me about Sig!" Angrboda asked.
"The unsoft Sig." Ivar said, smiling. "Her appointment with Bjorn did not go that well."
"Tell me."
"Bjorn wanted to give her hand in marriage to a prince from Norway, Rognvald or something like that. And you know Siggy..." Ivar said.
"Oh I do!" Angrboda agreed with affection and amusement. "Is he still alive?" she joked.
"As far as I know, yes. Which is a shame." Ivar grinned. "So she refused and since Sigurd and I will go raiding tomorrow in Northumbria she decided to come with us. It will be the end of Summer soon. We have to depart before the ice covers the fjord and the great tides."
"She will fight? Again?" Angrboda exclaimed. "Oh no! No! This little wilding will come back covered with scars again! I know her, she will try to get wounded as much as possible, this reckless shieldmaiden! She will mess my work!"
"What about me?" Ivar asked harshly. "You are my healer! Not hers!"
"Are you jealous?" Angrboda laughed.
"I am not!" Ivar yelled, flustered. "You are mine! That is all!"
"I am not yours." Angrboda said. "I am mine and mine only. I make my choices and now I must choose again. An easy choice." she smiled.
"Which is?" Ivar asked, out of patience.
"Siggy is my friend; my best friend. And I am your healer. So I will follow you both on this raid." Angrboda announced.
"Are you coming for her or for me?" Ivar asked.
"Does it matter?"
"It does!" Ivar said.
"Then I am coming for her." Angrboda replied, smiling.
Ivar gave a growl of displeasure which made Angrboda laugh.
"We'll wait for you in Kattegat." he said, annoyed as he left the table and crawled to the exit.
"Not in Kattegat." Angrboda said. "Kattegat is dangerous. It is cursed. And Bjorn might have me watched too. He might want to keep me here to tend his children and Lagertha. No. I must avoid Kattegat."
"So how will you join us?" Ivar asked, genuinely curious.
"Tell Sig that I'll wait for Sigurd's ship at our special place." Angrboda replied. "She'll understand."
"What special place?" Ivar asked.
"You'll see if you transmit the message." Angrboda replied.
"I will." Ivar answered.
"If you ever betray Siggy, I'll come for you and you'll regret it." she warned.
Ivar gave her a look and grinned. "No. Not yet. She is far too important for my plans to allow that."
Angrboda gave him a look filled with curiosity, her hands still working the herbs.
"I cannot wait to go in battle." Ivar said, raising his eyes to Boda, entrancing and mesmerizing snake; handsome man. "That way, I'll have you all for myself. And you'll heal me, and only me! You'll share my bed and I'll show you how I can love you."
"You are so confident, Ivar." Angrboda teased. "But I am afraid you are not the only one I have to heal. You are not the only one I love. I will heal Siggy and Sigurd and all the men who will fight. And I will share my bed with whoever I want. Perhaps I'll sleep with Sigurd, since he often gets cold at night."
Ivar growled once again, on the verge of screaming his anger and Angrboda wondered what drove him to want everything and everyone all for himself. He was a possessive man and Angrboda suspected it was to have been given all his mother's attention when he was a child which produced that. As much as she loved and respected Aslaug, the mistakes she had made regarding the education of her sons were many.
She could not help comparing his constant anger and the behavior born from it to Siggy's. Siggy was never given attention. She had always been lonely in spite of all the time she spent with Sigurd and Angrboda. While Ivar wanted what was not his and what was around him, Siggy wanted nothing but herself. Siggy was almost self-sufficient.
Almost. For Angrboda knew how dependant Siggy had became of her with years; her only friend. Her only link with the world of women.
"Tell her, Ivar." Angrboda said. "For me."
Ivar nodded and left the house, crawling away. And once again, Angrboda wondered about his arms and back. What a shame he was born a cripple. He would have been a hansome man. Perhaps more handsome than Baldr. But a man could not have everything and the gods had decided to be fair. So Ivar was a cripple. And fate could not be unwoven.
Against all odds, sacrificing his selfishness and jealousy, Ivar complied to Angrboda's request. But before that, he went to see Floki, his old master. They talked for about an hour of gods and magic; of war and hatred towards the Christians they deemed weak and stupid. Ivar loved Floki; his own peculiar way. But Helga, although she was a fine woman and worshipped the gods, was too soft. And Ivar wasn't keen on softness. Softness was weakness and others' weaknesses reminded him of his own.
He gave Siggy Angrboda's message and had to conceal his rage and jealousy when he saw her knowing eyes and the glowing happiness on her face. Angrboda and her shared a secret he was not the owner of. He hated it. He hated not to be the center of their worlds. And in the meantime, Sigurd gathered his men, prepared the ships and the weapons for the raid he was planning for about a year to Northumbria. Ivar's men and warriors had been warned too and they prepared another ship for them and their weapons, food, ale and mead. But they did not take horses; to complicated to move and load, and too large for the boats. They will steal some in Northumbria. The kingdom did not lack of those.
They woke up at dawn and helped with Gye and Haken, one of Sigurd's warriors, they hid Siggy on the boat, right before the departure. But one of Bjorn's spies noticed the strange commotion in the ship and looked inside it once Sigurd's men gone. Carefully, he approached and removed the thick fur on Siggy and grinned cruelly. She gasped when she realized she had been caught. The man considered her for a moment, his prey, and was about to give the alert when he fell on the pontoon, struck by an axe. Ivar's.
Siggy looked at him, all covered with blood and smiling, so cruel and bloodthirsty. It was almost as if he was going to drink the man's blood. He struck the man once more for the pleasure of it, and with a last cold look to Siggy, he crawled away. Siggy quickly removed the man's body from the pontoon and placed it beside her, not without washing the wood covered with blood.
She laid back on the deck of the ship, and hid her body under some thick and heavy furs. Her heart raced in her chest and she wondered if it would ever beat normally again. She had almost lost the freedom she longed for.
It was only when men started to hop on the ship she calmed down. Departure was soon; so was her release. Soon, she will be free. Soon, Kattegat will be behind her and she will fight like a true shieldmaiden. Soon, she will prove to the whole world they were wrong to underestimate her. The dead man beside her stank but the smell of freedom and glory highly covered it.
She heard Sigurd on the ship and felt Ivar crawling not far away. She was afraid they might kill one another on that ship and hoped they would not. She hoped Angrboda would calm them and sow peace among the men. If there was a woman capable of this, it was her.
A horn blew and a brutal jolt told Siggy that the boat started moving. They were gone. Finally. Finally she was free. At last her chains had been broken. Siggy almost sobbed with happiness. For the first time in her life she was at peace. Away from Kattegat, all was brighter, newer. Away from Kattegat, she could be anything she wanted.
She almost felt like she could fly. The speed of the ship and the wind blowing, invigorating, produced in her heart such a feeling of freedom she wanted nothing but to remove the thick fur covering her and let the wind tangle her hair.
But they were still in sight of Kattegat. And Siggy knew Bjorn was looking at the ships sailing away from the shore for she heard his voice before the ship sailed away. She heard him talking to Sigurd and biding him a safe journey. Siggy wondered why Torvi did not come. She was a shieldmaiden after all. But perhaps her loyalty to Lagertha prevented her from obeying to one of Aslaug's sons; even Sigurd. Siggy was glad. She did not think she could have borne to live with Torvi on board and on the battlefield. That woman was disdainful and hated to stain her hands; hence why she only killed with the strange bow she brought back from Frankia long ago.
"Sig." Sigurd said, next to her. "You can come out."
Siggy removed the fur with a long groan of relief and content. "At last!" she grunted as she stood up and threw the dead man beside her in the fjord.
"Where are we supposed to head to?" Sigurd asked.
"To that special spot." Ivar mocked with bitterness. "Hers and Boda!"
"Go left." Siggy said, ignoring Ivar. "We'll arrive in an hour or so. We have to bypass the mountain."
"What's the special spot anyway?" Ivar scoffed.
"Shut up!" Siggy spat. "If you don't you'll throw up sea-sick as you are!"
Ivar gave her a dark look and Siggy simply smiled. There was nothing funnier than shutting Ivar's mouth with words. Strangely, it was more satisfying beating him with words and wits than axe and violence.
After a short hour, Siggy saw the place Angrboda and her often went when they needed to be alone and see the stars reflecting on the sea; her happy place in spite of what it was: an old farm, burnt to the ground on a beach, surrounded by a forest. The farm might have been good-looking and prosperous once, but the fire told a story of death and tragedy; a story lost and untold. The black wood, consumed by the flames spoke of violence and perhaps vengeance. Often, Siggy had wondered who lived there. Often, with Angrboda they had created stories about this place. If the trees could speak, what stories would they tell?
Angrboda was on the shore, looking at the boat, her hair flowing with the wind; beautiful and peaceful. At her feet was a large bag and Siggy laughed when she realized it must not have any clothes in it. Angrboda wasn't keen of clothes or jewelry. She was far more interested in herbs and medicine. But it never stopped her from being beautiful her own unique way and to apply a heavy line of khol on her eyelids every morning. Angrboda was beautiful and Siggy could never get enough of her face.
The ship stopped not far from the shore. Angrboda, not caring for her dress walked in the water and was helped – as well as her bag – on the deck of the ship. Siggy immediately jumped to her neck and both women laughed; just like when they were little girls. Ivar growled but neither paid attention to his behavior.
"You are being a rebel again." Angrboda said with tenderness, gently stroking Siggy's hair.
"You are being a great friend again." Siggy replied. "I cannot believe you decided to come with us. I almost exploded with happiness when Ivar told us. I am so happy you cannot imagine! I am so happy you are coming with us."
"With you, Sig." Angrboda said, smiling knowingly to Ivar.
"You could have stayed." Siggy said, suddenly grim. "Why did you choose to come?"
"Because someone has to heal your irresponsible arse!" Angrboda said, harsher. "If you mess my work, I swear I will kill you."
Siggy laughed. "You are a healer Boda!"
"And you are a pain in my arse." Angrboda replied with affection.
"I am happy you decided to come. I would have missed you." Siggy said.
"I would have missed you too."
Siggy gave a gentle smile and both women embraced one another, happy to be together again. At this moment, Siggy's heart was at peace. She was where she wanted with the people she loved the most in the whole world. If she wasn't certain to be on Midgard, she would have believed to be in Valhalla.
Another horn blew and the five ships Sigurd and Ivar led left the beach and the burnt farm, remain of a time long lost. Another day awaited; another land, with many battles to fight and many deaths to avenge. Another land awaited; a land where Siggy would be free. The sun shone behind the clouds and the horizon had never seemed brighter. The future was open. Now, more than ever.
The strong winds of the morning were tangling her red hair and messing her dress she took days to choose. After several days on Einar's ship, Solveig hardly recognized herself when she looked at her reflection on the water. She was covered with filth and she stank. She needed a bath and she desperately wanted one. She wanted hot water and a comb to brush her hair. And alas, she had not seen any since they left the settlement of the Rus.
The ship stopped at the pontoon and Solveig gave a groan of joy and content when her feet touched the floor. At long last she was on land! At long last she was back on the land she was born in! But although Kattegat was in Gotaland, it wasn't her home for all that. Her home was far away, North of Kattegat, so far North, where the gods often visits and the weather is wilder as well as the men. Her home was home for berserkers and other beasts. And she had been gone from it far too long.
"Stay here, I'll go with Siegfried to pay my respect to the king, Bjorn. With any luck, we can stay here for at least a month with all we brought back from the Rus' lands." Einar said.
Solveig nodded and punched Siegfried in the shoulder as he walked past her. A way for her to remind him that he was still her little brother in spite of his impressive height. She laughed when he gave her an outraged look. He wanted to impress and he had always been quick to anger. A perfect target.
With Einar and Siegfried gone, she finally could fulfill the task Thorunn had given her when she left a year ago. But Solveig was afraid it might be doomed to failure. And if she came back to Thorunn with bad news, Solveig was afraid the shieldmaiden might want revenge, her eyes turning red and her face painted with her wrath. Thorunn was terrifying when she was angered and confident; perhaps more than Hel or Chaos itself. No wonder so many men came to join her in the woods.
Solveig wanted to succeed. Not only out of fear, but also out of love for a woman she admired and respected; a woman who saved her life as a child. She wanted her happy. She deserved to be happy.
She gave a sigh and smiled. She must show a pleasant face if she wanted to succeed.
"Excuse me," she said to an old woman repairing nets nearby. "Can you tell me anything about a girl named Siggy?"
Heyyyyyyyyyy! Long time no updated right? Yeah that's normal! Because Crashing Waves took like the major part of my time and I am dying to finish it. But it is finishing calmly and slowly so I am happy. I hope you liked this chapter and if you wanna know how Thorunn saved Solveig, you can read my fic, Thorunn alone.
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Have a nice day!