Chapter Seventeen: Old Friends

King Harald's court lingered in Kattegat a handful of days, to shake off the after-effects of such a raucous feast and for the king to commune with Björn over the plans for sailing next spring. Dreams of the Mediterranean had wheedled their way into King Harald and his brother, Halfdan's, thoughts as well. Björn, Harald, and Halfdan had come to Floki's work site so that the brothers might see the process of building one of the ships they would take.

Ivar heard them before Rúna did. She was up the mast, legs wrapped around the tall pillar of wood while she sat on the crossbeam, winding and tying knots in the rope that would hold the sails aloft. Floki had set Ivar to sanding the oars, but he was spending much of his time watching Rúna. She was biting her lip in concentration, a tiny wrinkle forming between her brows. The breeze ran its fingers through her loose hair, turning it into a red banner against the clear blue sky.

He whistled, low and quick, to get her attention. Rúna leaned over the mast, raising her eyebrows. "We have company."

She took a quick peek over her shoulder before scrambling down the mast, landing lightly on her feet beside him.

"What do you think of them?" Rúna asked, watching Harald and Halfdan cross the beach flanked on either side of Björn. The brothers were roughly the same size, though Halfdan was blonde where Harald was brunette. Halfdan wore his shock of hair loose, sweeping limply over one side of his face. He boasted a full face of tattoos, just as his brother did, but there was a feline quality to the way that Halfdan moved that set her nerves on edge. Harald had a definite swagger as well, though his seemed less sinister than his brother's.

"They fought with my father as allies in Frankia, as you know," Ivar murmured, running his knife over the length of the oar blade in his lap. "Useful, perhaps, but I would not trust them. Not when Harald talks so freely about making himself king of all Norway."

Rúna nodded. Bodil and Gisli had been staying at the cabin with her family, sharing Rúna's bed at night. They slept the way they had as small children, with Rúna squished between the twins. She had learned much about King Harald in that time—mostly how often he solicited the twins for their company.

"He is a man grown!" Rúna had whisper-shouted when she first learned that King Harald's generosity with coin and jewels was the reason Bodil and Gisli stayed on at his court.

"Rúna, we are not all so fortunate to have a young prince to fawn over us." Gisli had shot back, tapping Rúna with her pillow.

"He does not," Rúna argued, glaring at Gisli in the dark. Bodil came to her sister's defense.

"Oh, Rúna, perhaps one day you will see that the boy's in love with you."

So much for King Harald's elusive princess. Or Rúna's pride.

"Rúna! Ivar! Where is Floki?" Björn called up to them from the sand. Rúna inclined her head toward the forest behind them.

"Collecting more wood. We're only one ship short of your fleet. They will have to dock through the winter," she said pointedly, "but Floki says they'll be ready to sail when the snow melts."

"We will go find him. King Harald and Halfdan are curious about the improvements Floki's made with this fleet." The three men disappeared into the trees as Rúna plopped herself down on the bench Ivar occupied.

"You could have answered any of their questions," Ivar told her, taking another pass over the oar blade. "You know these boats as well as Floki."

Rúna shrugged, reaching around him to grab the bag he had brought with him. He could smell the salty tang of the sea on her hair; she had been working on the beach with Floki since sunup. Helga had given the bag to him when he passed their cabin, packed with a midday meal for them. She drew out a hunk of bread, breaking it in uneven halves before offering him the bigger of the pieces. "Floki's the renowned boatbuilder," she reminded him. "I'm only Rúna."

Helga had packed them butter and honey for their bread. When she handed the little jar of golden liquid over to him, Ivar caught her hand instead. Startled, she looked up into his serious blue eyes. "You have never been 'only Rúna'," he told her, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go. A blush bloomed in her cheeks and she dropped her head, making herself busy with her own bread.

"In any case," Rúna pushed on, "Floki will probably welcome a break from cutting down trees. You know as well as I do that talking about his creations is half the fun for him."

"The crazy old fool does love a good story," Ivar agreed around a mouthful of bread. He finished his half quickly before reaching into his pocket for his bag of feverfew, popping a few dried buds in his mouth. Rúna frowned, pursing her lips.

"You've been sitting too long." She took several quick bites of her own food, eating through it so quickly Ivar doubted she tasted her butter or honey.

"As opposed to what? Standing?" He teased, taking a drink from their water skein. Rúna rolled her eyes at him and brushed the crumbs from her lap.

"Come on," she said, "this work will keep. Let's go find Bodil and Gisli."

The twins had plans to go to the market, she knew. She also knew that despite Ivar's attitude, crawling afforded his legs enough movement not to grow stiff and sore the way long periods of sitting on a hard bench caused him to. He brooked no argument, following behind Rúna as she led the way along the forest's edge. They stopped at the cabin so Rúna could change from her sandy, saw-dust covered working clothes, exchanging it all for her summer sandals and a light dress.

"You are taking ages," Ivar grumped from the front room, toying with the model boat that still took up residence on their table. "I've aged. My hair's turned gray."

"You are overly dramatic today. I had to comb my hair. You didn't tell me it looked like a rat's nest." She flicked his head—still covered in dark hair, as always—before breezing past him to the door. "Are you coming?"

Smirking, he obediently fell in line behind her swishing green skirt. The market was lively again, with people walking all about the paths that led to various vendors. Bodil and Gisli weren't hard to find; to Ivar's knowledge, there wasn't another set of waifish silver-haired twins in Kattegat presently. He spotted them before Rúna, reaching out to tug her skirt. "Over there," he nodded in the girls' direction once Rúna had stopped to look over her shoulder at him.

Bodil and Gisli were at a fur-trader's tent, flirting their way to a lower price on some fox skins. They were nice enough, though Rúna had seen better skins produced from Ivar's hunting trips with his brothers.

"King Harald keeps you well stocked in jewels but not furs?" Rúna asked, smiling sweetly at the stout man fronting the fur stall. He was likely the hunter of the wares, though how much business he drew in with his sour countenance was up for debate. The twins turned at her voice, wearing matching rueful smirks.

"Men often think trinkets buy a woman's happiness," Bodil ran her hand through the thick, brown-and-gray fur before her. She nodded to the stall keeper after a pause, withdrawing a few coins from her little leather purse. "You'll learn that sooner or later, Rúna."

"I don't know." Ivar pulled himself up first by taking hold of Rúna's hand and then the edge of the stall, so that he was positioned on his knees, arm resting on the stall to keep him upright. "Rúna's been known to be bought with pretty seashells and pieces of sea glass. River rocks have done the trick, too."

She glared down at him but could frame no argument. It was true enough, what he said. Bodil and Gisli laughed in their tinkling way, folding their newly bought furs over their arms. "That is why the gods saw it fit to take you from the brothel," Gisli teased. "You never would have brought in the price you surely could have fetched, Rúna."

"What were the two of you up to, before coming here?" Bodil continued, reaching out a hand to lightly touch first Rúna and then Ivar's cheeks. Her dark blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "You are both flushed."

This, of course, prompted a deeper flush in Rúna's cheeks as she hastily explained, "We were working on Björn's boats, in the sun, all morning."

Bodil laughed at her discomfort, shaking her head and taking Rúna by the arm. "I'm only teasing. Now, Gisli and I are in need of some plants for our stores. We buy them in Tamdrup, where it is not much forested. But I take it the two of you know these forests around Kattegat well, no?"

"We ought to." Ivar was frustratingly not as affected by Bodil's teasing as Rúna. "We spent most of our childhood there. What are you looking for?"

"Meadowsweet, mostly. It sells for an outrageous price in Tamdrup." A dramatic roll of Gisli's wide eyes echoed her sister's sentiment over market prices in King Harald's kingdom. Ivar turned to Rúna, eyebrows raising.

"Out past King's Crown and the other cliffs, there's a meadow where the stream overruns often enough that meadowsweet grows all along the banks."

Bodil smiled, nodding at the two of them. "We are in the hands of our faithful forest guides, then. Lead the way."

As they were not so far from the great hall and Ivar's own cabin, being in the market, he graciously offered to let the twins place their newly bought furs inside for safekeeping. Though surprised, Rúna didn't comment. Ivar's cabin was not a place that he let many people into. She thought of his stool, which he used to help him get in and out of bed and for dressing, his low-set table and shelves—easier for him to reach when up on his knees. But he pushed open the door upon arrival with none of her own qualms evident in him.

The easy conversation from the market didn't falter whatsoever as Bodil and Gisli folded their furs into neat squares and laid them upon the table. It carried through the edge of town and into the forest as well.

"What is King's Crown?" Gisli asked. "The cliffs are named here?" They traversed the forest in a line of sorts: Rúna leading the way with Ivar keeping pace beside her, Gisli on Rúna's heels, and Bodil observed both her companions and the forest round them.

"King's Crown is, anyway," Ivar explained. "It looks like its name. When my father disappeared some years ago, my brothers and I carved his name into the rock."

"Oh, what a sweet tribute!" Gisli smiled down at the top of Ivar's head. Her radiance was lost on Ivar, however, whose eyes were fixed downward. The breakage of low-growing plants had caught his eye, entirely unnoticed by the girls accompanying him. Not only were the leaves drooping on damaged stems, many of them blood streaked.

Another tug at her skirts gave Rúna pause, turning to Ivar. "Hmm?" she hummed, a slight confusion painting her features. He nodded to the left, in the direction of the animal signs. Rúna's sharp eyes caught onto those signs, stretching onto her tiptoes to try to see better through the thick of tree branches and foliage. "I can't see anything. What do you think?"

"Likely a fox. It is too late in the season for wolf pups or bear cubs to be so small, but we should still be aware."

There was no path here in the forest section they were hiking through, unlike more frequented areas around Kattegat. It wasn't unreasonable to anticipate encountering more wildlife in their current surroundings. Rúna simply nodded, stepping away from Ivar to alter their path slightly away from the potential threat. In her dress, she herself was not armed, but the polished wood of Ivar's knife handle winked at her where it was holstered over his left shoulder and his axe was slung across his back.

"Rúna!" Gisli exclaimed, grabbing onto her arm. "That does not worry you?"

"No." Cocking her head to the side, Rúna took in her childhood friend's blanched cheeks. Behind her, Bodil smirked over her sister's dramatics. "Why should it? Animals don't usually bother humans, and besides, Ivar is armed. He would not let any harm come to us."

Wide blue eyes swept over the trees crowding around them. They were in a thick patch of forest, but all was quiet aside from the birdsong flitting through the air. Laughing, Rúna tugged on Gisli. "There's no monsters here, like you used to insist when the wind howled at night. We are too far from the shores to even be worried about Jörmungandr."

"Besides," Ivar continued on their path, bound legs rustling along the foliage, "I am easier prey than any of you three. Animals are not stupid. They always go for the lame members of a pack first."

Rúna shook her head in silent admonishment, pulling Gisli along behind her as she followed Ivar's course. Despite Gisli's worries, they arrived at the meadow unabused by any of the wilder inhabitants of Kattegat. Bodil and Gisli unwound the lacing of their summer sandals and tucked up their skirts to wade into the shallow, marshy swath of land the meadowsweet thrived in alongside the riverbank. Rúna was more interested in the thicket of madder growing toward the center of the meadow. Ivar followed there, removing his weapons laying back in the swaying grasses to bask in the sunlight while Rúna sunk her fingers into the cool, dark earth to uproot the madder.

"What purpose does that plant serve in witchcraft?" An interesting quirk among Aslaug's sons was the habit of referring to anything that had to do with using plants—whether for making medicine or dyeing fabric—as 'witchcraft'. Ironic, Rúna had always thought, considering Aslaug's status as a volva.

"You boil the roots down to make a red dye," Rúna explained. "Good madder is hard to come by." She asked for his knife, and he gave it to easily, watching as she cut the roots free of the stalk.

"You do not wear red, though," Ivar observed. "Blues and greens and browns and grays, yes, and you had that yellow dress when we were small. But I have never seen you wear red."

"Your mother wears red," Rúna reminded him. "And Sigurd, too. Björn needs new flags, too, for his ships."

"Björn is using Father's flags, though."

"Ragnar's flags have a red raven emblazoned on them, or have you forgotten? We sailed under them when we took the first boat to harbor."

"I was rather preoccupied." A tinge of green washed over his face, making Rúna giggle. She flicked some of the soils from her fingers at him.

Across the meadow, Bodil watched this scene with a knowing, bemused smirk.

There was much teasing in Rúna's bed that night. It was the girls' last night together; King Harald had ordered his people to sail come morning light. There were preparations to be made in his own kingdom if he intended to join Björn's raiding party in the spring. Rúna laid on her stomach between the twins, burying her face in her pillow to hide both her laughter and her blushing.

"I am serious!" Bodil whisper-shouted.

"You can be serious all you like, Bodil, but that doesn't mean you're right!"

"Oh, Rúna," Gisli tsked over her, smoothing her hair with a hand. The twins had stayed at Floki and Helga's cabin each night, yet somehow still managed to get their business in during the day. "Trust us, if Ivar is anything like Ubbe and Hvitserk, you will have a much better time just admitting it to yourself and getting on with it."

In the safety of her pillow, Rúna blushed anew at the implications of 'getting on with it'.

Sighing, Bodil took her by the shoulder and rolled Rúna onto her back so she might meet her friend's eye. "Ignore Gisli. You know she has always been one to focus entirely on self-gratification."

Gisli shrugged, rustling the bed covers with her indifference. "We are none of us guaranteed a long life, Bodil; and I intend to fill mine with fun while I am able."

"Yes, but your idea of fun is having me join you in bed with Hvitserk, Gisli." Rúna was almost certain she would burst into flames at any moment. She prayed for a small kindness from the gods, that Floki and Helga would not overhear such talk. "Our dear Rúna has more rustic ideas of fun."

Neither of the twins had been able to process that Rúna enjoyed helping Floki with boats and regular weapons training sessions with Ivar and his brothers. The small relief for the pair had been that, though Rúna loved these 'rougher' activities, she didn't necessarily enjoy them more than weaving on a loom with Helga or other such gentler tasks.

She hadn't had the courage to admit that her favorite pastimes had simply been whatever she was doing with Ivar on any given day.

"It seems you are as blind as that Seer of Kattegat's. Have you ever gone to him? What an eerie creature." Bodil shook her head, blonde hair shining in a silver wave around her face from the moonlight streaming in through the cracked window. Rúna's cheeks cooled as the color blanched from them. She had seen the Seer, yes; everyone had. Along with other town children, she had played games of peeking through the cracks in the Seer's lodgings, daring each other to actually speak to the man.

Rúna wasn't certain the Seer was a man. He was shaped like one, at least, if you looked past his gray skin and lack of eyes and those long, black-tipped fingers. And he spoke with the deep, gravelly voice of a man, his voice making her think of a dark, open grave.

"No," Rúna said. "I never have. Our lives are already fated when we are born, what good is the use of knowing what the gods intend? If you do not like what the Seer says, you will just rail against your fate your entire life until the day it comes. What is the good in that? We cannot change it."

Gisli giggled, buoyant as ever despite the dark turn of Rúna's mood. "Well, I suppose it is a good thing we liked what the Seer saw for us!"

There was no rising to Gisli's obvious bait. Rúna merely nodded, telling the twins she was glad the Seer foretold good things in their futures. Bodil rolled on her side, to face Rúna and her sister. All thoughts of teasing Rúna over Ivar seemed to be abandoned.

"You do not put faith in the Seer, but what of Queen Aslaug? I have heard she is a volva, no?"

Biting her lip, Rúna nodded. "Queen Aslaug has seen things, yes. She foresaw the snake in Sigurd's eyes; have you seen it? A dark serpent that wraps all around the blue in his right eye. And she foresaw Ivar's legs as well." She swallowed, skipping over the unsavory prediction of Siggy's death. That had been a trick, she knew. Children died every time Harbard came to Kattegat; the fact Siggy had succumbed to that curse had been happenstance. "She saw the plague that ravaged Kattegat recently, and the coming of King Harald to celebrate Midsummer with us. But her gift is not like the Seer's. She does not control it."

"So, you do put stock in Queen Aslaug's visions?" Bodil asked. Rúna merely nodded, earning herself the same response from the twin to her left. "It's interesting. King Harald calls Queen Aslaug's visions a ruse, to keep control of Kattegat without a king by her side."

"King Harald would not last long in Kattegat, then," Rúna observed. "Lagertha may be long gone from this place and far removed from her marriage to King Ragnar, but her impact is echoed here. There is high respect for women in Kattegat."

"So we have seen," Bodil agreed, eyes dark and shining in the pale light of the moon. "King Ragnar's sons pay generously, anyway. I have not heard one bad word said about Queen Aslaug, have you, Gisli?" A rustle on the other side of the bed signaled Gisli's head shake. "And Björn's wife, Torvi, is well-renowned from the talk I have heard. And, of course, we have both seen how Ivar watches you as if you are a goddess come to commune with the humans."

With that, Rúna rolled herself over and groaned into her pillow once more, leaving the twins giggling on either side of her. Gisli smoothed her hair, just like she had when they were small. "Trust us, Rúna, if you got so bold as to do so much as kiss his cheek, the poor boy would go up in flames."

Rúna saw the twins off in the morning, sending with them a bag filled to the brim with Helga's generosity. She had been smitten with the two girls, and though Rúna knew they were well cared for in King Harald's court, Helga had insisted they have food for their journey home and then some.

A breeze caught Gisli's hair, streaming the silken strands across Rúna's face when she hugged her. "Oh, I will miss this place. If Queen Aslaug or either of us were so inclined, perhaps we would have swapped one royal bedmate for another."

Shaking her head against Gisli's shoulder and laughing, Rúna assured her that was a dream at best. Aside from Ragnar and Harbard, no other man—or woman—had occupied Aslaug's bed to her knowledge.

"Hedeby is much closer, sister. If we are so inclined, perhaps we could try our luck there." Bodil pulled Rúna close before the shock could even register on her face. "Don't be so scandalized, Rúna! It is hardly a secret that the famed Lagertha took a fellow shieldmaiden for her lover."

Holding her at arm's length, Bodil smiled. "I will miss these blushing cheeks in the meantime, but rest assured we will see each other again, Rúna. That Seer of yours has foretold it."

"I'll look forward to the day." And she meant it. Despite their teasing, Rúna had treasured her time with the girls who had been like her sisters. She stood on the dock, first waving and then merely watching, until King Harald's ships disappeared along the horizon.

Rúna's exuberance was, unfortunately, catching. Her joy over the improvements in his walking practice had lit a fire in Ivar. He wanted to coax out that triumphant smile, that shine of pride lighting up her gray eyes, even if it meant sore feet and aching legs. More often than not, as late summer blended into fall, Ivar found himself balanced on his crutches rather than prone along the ground.

"Yes!" Rúna celebrated on the first truly chilly day, clapping her hands together under her chin in excitement as if she were a child. That bright smile broke out across her face, and all because he had been able to shuffle his feet in an approximation of steps from one wall of the cabin to another. "Ivar! You walked, truly walked."

A smile was trying to form on his own lips, between the panting of trying to catch his breath. Even with his crutches and braces, walking took considerable effort on his part. Ivar may have walked, but Rúna nearly ran across the room, throwing her arms around his neck in a celebratory hug.

He caught her about the waist, forgotten crutches clattering to the floor. Holding onto her was steadying enough to keep him on his feet. One hand moved upward, cradling the back of her head against his shoulder. It occurred to him, as he held her, heartbeat hopelessly unable to calm with her proximity, that he had never truly been hugged until this moment. Not on his feet, holding someone so close as this.

"You really did it!" She breathed into his ear, the wash of her breath sending a tingle along his spine. Her praise was punctuated with her drawing back from him slightly, cupping his face between her hands and smiling brightly once again. "I am going to need you to celebrate this more, Ivar."

"Considering I did all the work, I may need a moment to recover, Rúna." His hands gripped at her dress, taking fistfuls of the fabric. She was more than enough to keep him upright and steady, yes, but only when his legs weren't shaking under the stress of holding his weight when they weren't accustomed to it. Rúna realized this herself in the next moment, shifting to take help him sink down and sit on the ground without hurting his legs in the descent. She sat beside him, pulling her knees to her chest under the cover of her skirts, resting her chin atop her knees and watching him wipe at his brow.

Ivar's cheeks were blotched red from his efforts, making his eyes shine a bright, searing blue in his face. Mouth slack, still trying to catch his breath, he eventually managed to smile at her. His smile prompted another from her, as well as an excited squeal, throwing herself forward to hug him again. No, he decided, hand splayed across her back, this is not as good, but it will do.

"I… am so tired," he admitted, words muffled by her hair. "And starving."

Pulling away from him, Rúna pushed herself off the ground to check the sky beyond the closed window. The light that streamed in was dim, clouds painted lavender by a dying sunset. "Gods, you should be! It's time for dinner. You should already be at table in the great hall!"

She was in a tizzy, then, pulling one of his legs into her lap to help him quickly remove the braces. Their hands worked in frenzied tandem, slipping away braces to be replaced with bindings.

"Your face," Rúna reminded him, knocking his hands away to expertly tie up his binds herself. "You're all flushed."

Reaching above his head, she pulled down the ewer of water and washing plate from his bedside table. Ivar obediently dipped his hands in, splashing the chilly water over his nose and cheeks. "Do not tell me you're worried my brothers and mother will come to the same conclusion your friends did if I arrive at table red-cheeked and winded."

She threw the towel in his mocking face, making him laugh, her own cheeks staining red.

"Well," Ivar asked, humor still coloring his words, "am I decent for dinner?"

Rúna paused in her tidying, straightening from hiding his braces and crutches beneath his bed. She crossed her arms and tipped her head to the side, hair spilling over her shoulder. He no longer looked winded, that was true enough, though his eyes still shined from the exertion of the exercise. Aslaug was like to mistake the bright hue for one of his flairs with his legs. It would serve him right, anyway, Rúna thought. Another thought followed right after, one wicked in its inspiration. Rúna had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Almost," she answered, making her way back across the cabin to him. Kneeling beside him, she gently took his jaw in her hand, turning his face to the side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. She couldn't help but smirk when his skin grew hot beneath her lips. "Two can play a blushing game, Ivar," she whispered to him before releasing her hold on his jaw and pulling away.

His mouth opened and closed, no words coming forth though it was obvious he was making an effort to force something out. Rúna giggled, pleased with herself for gaining the upper hand on Ivar—something that was not easily done.

"That is an underhanded trick, Rúna!" He groused from his seat on the floor. She paused at the door throwing a look back over her shoulder.

"I think you meant to say 'stroke of genius', but I suppose I will forgive you."

Rúna snickered to herself the entire way home.

"I feel fine, Mother." Ivar swatted Aslaug's hand away from his forehead for what must have been the millionth time. Thanks to Rúna, his mother had assumed his odd behavior and disheveled appearance had to do with his legs. They were sore, yes, but from exercise rather than mere frailty for once.

Aslaug pursed her lips. Across the table from Ivar, Sigurd rolled his eyes. Ubbe was watching with the same scrutiny their mother was. Ivar couldn't bring himself to meet those blue eyes, so like his own, filled with misplaced concern. He felt bad lying to Aslaug and Ubbe, but he would rather spout falsehoods than reveal the truth and endure Sigurd and Hvitserk's teasing. Only one, he knew, would be in good fun.

"Perhaps you do for the moment," Aslaug finally conceded, "but I want you to wait for Ubbe or myself, come morning, to check your eyes before you get to moving about."

It was the best he could settle for. He grumpily agreed to Aslaug's terms. Just to prove his point, however, he plowed through two plates at dinner and made sure to be the first out the great hall's doors when they were excused from table. Even still, Ubbe insisted on following him to his cabin door. He likely would have followed Ivar inside if he hadn't quickly pulled his legs inside by their bindings and quickly shut and locked the door.

"Dammit, Rúna," he cursed to no one other than the gods, pulling himself up onto his stool. Discarded boots thumped on the floorboards, followed by his bindings and tunic. His wrist braces were the last thing he tossed aside before slipping into beneath his blankets. Belatedly, he noticed that the hearth fire had burned itself out, but rather than retrieve one of his brothers or Margrethe, he accepted he would be chilly that night.

Ivar buried himself deeply beneath his bedding, mind spiraling on how best to get his revenge.

A/N: A bit shorter, I know and I apologize! I haven't had a chance to post anything until today and it has been so long between updates. Hopefully the contents of the chapter make up for that. ;) I really have no excuse other than work is crazy. Blame it on the Covid, I guess? I just want to go back to a normal timeline.

Thanks to mickypants, Nightwingstress, and Kate for the lovely reviews! Y'all have no idea how much I love to read them.

I'll be seeing you all sooner this next time, I hope!