Please listen to the Danish song "Solen er så rød mor" by Røst. I want you to get in the mood for this one :)


Frida sat with her eyes raised at the rosy sky above her, while she mindlessly let her fingers work on a small flower garland she was making for Ragnhildir with the cute marguerites that flourished lively by the weeping willow she had sat down by. The garland was white, yellow and green, the colors of innocence, and she felt a nudging in her stomach as her eyes kept roaming the skies above her.

The village seemed empty now, without all of the men and shield maidens there, and she had felt a certain restlessness growing in her heart ever since their departure.

His departure.

Frida sighed out as her eyes fell down to the flowers in her hands, and she wondered how long they had come in their voyage, and whether they had reached the English shores yet.

She pictured Floki hovering the horizon with his darkened eyes from the stem of the ship. Ragnar, scouting out over the railing too with a raven on his shoulder, consulting with the gods and asking them for success in their coming adventures, while the oars glided through the salty water under their vessel, heaving them closer and closer to their destination.

Frida was humming the tunes of a song that had been resonating in her head ever since Ragnar's departure.

A song that she had heard Helga sing many times now for the children before they were to sleep. She felt her heart sinking inside of her chest, as a tone of loneliness unveiled itself in her voice, giving away her deepest emotions.

She heard herself singing the song as if it would comfort her as she sat there under the blooming greens of the willow that were painted orange by the beams of the setting of the sun.

"Mother, the sun is so red,
and the forest is turning very black.
Mother, now the sun is dead
the daytime won't be back.
Mother, the fox is out there red,
let us lock our hall.
Mother come, sit by my bed,
and sing a little song."

She felt her throat tightening slightly and something wet gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Even though she knew that she was not alone here in Kattegat, that Helga and Elisef who had come to be her closest friends were just inside the longhouse looking out for the children, she still felt loneliness shadowing her being, creeping over her like a spirit of the forest, an elf coloring her skin and making her feel like a child all over again.

Fearful and unknowing.

Her thoughts wandered back to the morning before Ragnar had sailed off with the raiders, how he had stood here by this exact same tree, scouting the skies just like her.

Frida had been looking for him, as Rollo had urged for him to join the others by the boats, and Frida had searched every corner of the longhouse without finding her husband anywhere.

But when she had peeped her head out of the small door that led to the outskirts of the village, her eyes had quickly fallen upon his figure.

Her heart had drummed in her chest as she had watched him standing there, with his eyes turned to the sky, and she had felt her blood rushing when out of the blue canvas came a giant black raven diving through the air before landing upon Ragnar's shoulders, croaking softly as he welcomed it.

Frida had held her breath and furrowed her brows as she had watched him and the raven, how he had looked at it with his blue crystals shining more than ever, how he had whispered to it, as if he was having a conversation with it, and how it had fluttered its wings lightly as it croaked at him, answering his uncertainties in the morning sun.

Frida giggled inaudibly as she recalled how frightened she had been when the raven had turned its small black eyes to stare at her, causing Ragnar to turn to look at her too and discover that she had been standing there prying on them. He had not been angry with her, he had merely curled his lips and turned his back to her again, before the raven croaked at him one last time, scattering its big wings and taking off into the blue openness above them.

Frida once more lifted her eyes to search the pink sky, the song still playing for her ears as a small tear sneaked down over her cheek.

"Mother, the sky is so wide and great,
with bright and shining stars.
Mother, I wonder who lives there,
up in the starry blue scarf?
Mother, do you think they're lads,
looking down where I might be?
And mother, have they warm beds,
to sleep in just like me?"

Childish fears ran over her skin as the last rays of the sun warmed her, and the chirping of birds sounded from the forest like flutes.

Frida let the flower garland in her hands fall to the ground before she wrapped her arms around herself, comforting her loneliness as another tear traveled from the corner of her eye.

What she would not give for a last hug from her own mother, for her comforting smell of lilacs and her gentle touch. Frida swayed her hands over her stomach, and let a small sigh escape her lips.

She had to be the strong one now, she had to be the comfort that she longed for so badly, she had to nurture her children just as her mother had nurtured her, and she had to shy from these childish anxieties that sprouted from her heart.

And yet, as she sat there between the sways of grass and ling, she finished the song that made her miss her mother so, letting the last tears escape her eyes.

"Mother, why does the night come,
with cold and bitter winds?
Mother, listen to the cat,
it's crying and wants in!
The seagulls and the terns calls
no dwelling place has blest.
Mother listen, now sing the stars
They're lulling me to rest!"

Frida braided the rest of the garland of marguerites as she finished the song, and with the last word she rose to her feet feeling lighter than before, as if the song had helped her overcome a small struggle inside of herself.

As she threw a final glance at the darkening sky, a smile crept over her lips.

She was going to do this now.

She was going to be strong for herself, her children, her friends and family, and for the villagers that were still in Kattegat. She could not hide herself from her responsibilities. She was going to face them and show the gods that she really was destined to have this place in the world.

As Ragnar's wife, the mother of his children, the queen of Kattegat. As Frida.

She sucked in a deep breath and readied herself.

But just as she was about to take a step towards the longhouse, she heard a childish laughter sound. Frida froze, turning her head slightly and stared at the forest from where the sound had come.

She furrowed her brows and narrowed her eyes.

It was a strange place for any child to be at this hour, as most of the children normally would be helping their mothers cook by now. Frida absentmindedly reached one of her hands up to grab at her necklace, sensing the air changing around her slightly.

Someone was there.

In a way she regretted not having brought Freke out here with her now, as an unfamiliar chill ran down her spine, her eyes scouting over the berry-filled bushes that marked the edge of the forest.

A strange silence hung in the air, and she took a step forward towards the forest, her eyes turning with every movement there, with every branch that swayed in the warm summer breeze.

"Who is there?" she whispered almost silently, her blood rushing for her ears and drowning out the chirping of the birds.

Another chill ran over her spine when the laughter sounded again, closer to her this time, and she now started backing away from the forest, closing the distance between herself and her home.

Even though it was a childish laughter resonating from the bushes, she did not like the tone of it. The strange airy cling that sounded over the dry grass in front of her reminded her of a dream she had had not long ago. But she could not recall what the dream had entailed.

Frida's body almost collapsed in suspense when she saw a dark figure appearing through the bushes. She threw her hands up to her chest, as her heart drummed heavily, and she narrowed her eyes at the figure, slowly realizing that it indeed was a child lurking there, a young boy with reddish blonde hair and freckles smiling at her.

She sighed out in relief.

She opened her mouth to greet him, but just as the words were forming on her lips, a girl appeared too. She was also smiling at Frida, and she looked very much alike the boy. They both stood there between the bushes, smiling at her, their gray eyes shining weirdly in their flushed faces.

Frida did not know what to do with herself.

What were they doing there?

She cleared her throat, but she did not move towards them. Their air was so strange.

"Who are you?" she managed to croak out, slicing the thick silence that hovered between them.

The boy and the girl started walking towards her in the exact same movements, their eyes never leaving hers as they gently trot over the long grass between them. Their smiles were wide, wild almost, as they got closer, and they only stopped when Frida put her hand on the door behind her, ready to escape the scene.

She did not know why she felt frightened like this. They were merely children.

But they acted strangely, and she kept her eyes narrowed on their faces. They were both very handsome children, their hair blonde but tinted with a golden red, their eyes gray like the sky on a rainy day. They looked like brother and sister.

"Who are you?" Frida repeated, her voice firmer this time, her muscles tensing under her skin.

The boy took a small step forward, still smiling as he said: "We liked your singing. Can we hear another song?"

Frida furrowed her brows and tilted her head as his question sounded in her ears. She still had her hand on the door.

"Where is your mother?" she breathed at them, her heart and blood drumming.

She watched the two children glare at each other for a quick moment, before their eyes turned to her face again, their smiles fading slightly.

"We don't know," they stated in unison, innocence dripping from the voices.

Frida felt an alarming sensation growing in her belly, but she sent them a small smile. "Are you hungry?" she asked, her muscles still tensing under her skin.

Both of them eagerly nodded their heads, and even though the strange feeling still lingered on her skin, she waved a hand at them.

"Come then, and I'll sing you another song while you eat."

She persuaded herself into thinking that this was the right thing to do, even with her feeling so strange in their presence. She did not know them, she had never seen them before here in Kattegat, and yet she still felt like they were supposed to go with her.

So she brought them to the long-hall and placed them by the fire, before she turned to the bedroom to go get Helga and Elisef. Helga was sitting on the bed, her one arm on Ragnhildir's crib and her eyes roaming over the little playground they had built for the young ones, where Angrboda was playing.

When Frida entered the room, Helga quickly rose to her feet.

"What happened?" she urged in a small breath, as if she knew all about Frida's encounter with the two strange children.

Frida breathed out and eyed her questioningly, before she responded: "I, uh… A little boy and a little girl came to me from the forest, I… They wanted me to sing for them, and they don't know where their mother is, so…"

Helga took a quick step forward. "A brother and a sister?" she pressed.

Frida furrowed her brows at her friend, and nodded slowly.

What was going on?

Helga rushed over to hand Frida Ragnhildir, and her eyes looked more alive than ever as she opened the door to cast a look out into the long-hall.

"We should feed them, treat them well," she whispered in rushed words. "Did they want you to sing for them?"

Frida nodded again, confused about Helga's response.

"You should, then," she whispered while her eyes were stuck on the two boys by the fire.

Frida hissed out a quick breath. "But Helga, I don't understand. Who are they?"

But Helga did not answer her, she merely sent her a long soft glare, her lips curling slowly at her, before she walked back to pick up her daughter. She said nothing as she walked past Frida and out into the long-hall, and Frida followed her confusedly.

What did she know?