Frida had been crying ever since she laid down on her bed that night.
Her thoughts were racing around inside her head arguing who could be Bjarni's murderer, and her heart was aching for his family. When Rollo and her had gone to visit them to pay their respects, a heavy dark shawl had wrapped around her heart for the blacksmith's children and his wife. Even though death was a big part of the Norsemen's way of life, it was never easy to lose a member of your family, especially not a father.
If the mother is the thread that holds a family together, the father is the pillar to which that threat is bound.
Frida sighed out in frustration as she turned around in the bed. Her eyes were dry and swollen, but she could not close them. Every time she tried to, pictures of Bjarni's cold and lifeless body on the blood colored heath would reappear for her eyes, his horror stricken white eyes would look at her, blame her.
Frida felt the small baby inside of her move about, and she felt her throat tighten as she came to think about its future.
How many deaths would this little creature see during its life? How many cold and white bodies would it have to carry in its heart? How much blood would be spilled upon its innocent hands?
Frida bit her lip and sat up in the bed, darkness surrounding her closely. There were not many sounds in the big house, and Frida looked over to see the empty space beside her, where Ragnar should have been. But he had not returned yet with Bjørn and Torstein.
They were still out in the cold black night, searching.
Frida felt another movement inside of herself, and she looked down on her bulging stomach with tired eyes.
"What is it you want me to do, little one?" she whispered out in a light voice, stroking her hand over the stretched skin.
The baby acted as if it was impatient, urging her to do something.
Frida pushed the covers off and rose to her feet, quickly covering herself in her woolen dress. She had to get out of the bedroom, out of the house.
The long-hall was empty, and the fire was low, only small embers left to spread warmth and light in the room. Frida inhaled the cold night air deeply when she stepped outside, and she immediately felt the life inside of her stir around, appointing her to move herself around the house. She wrapped her arms around herself, as the chilly night spread shivers all over her body, and she quickly walked around a corner only to lay her eyes upon the small fencing that led to the food storage.
Without thinking, Frida climbed the low fence and quickly strode across the paddock and stopped only when she reached the large clay pots, the perfume of their contents already reaching her nostrils. The fragrance of the different herbs and spices untangled something inside of her, calming her unsettled baby, and while absentmindedly reaching her hands down to grab a couple of different aromatic trusses, Frida's eyes traveled across the paddock, and quickly rested on the narrow path that led down to the small meadow where the villagers brought offerings for the gods.
Frida's eyes widened when the creature inside of her impatiently urged her to follow the path, and Frida threw herself over the fence, quickly and elegantly. She had to go down there, she could feel it in her insides, and while the wind was still colder than ever, Frida felt unusual warmth covering her skin, guarding her from the cold darkness that surrounded her presence.
Her steps were quick and flowy, and she deliberately ducked whenever she passed a window of one of the village houses, as she wanted to be alone. She did not want anyone to know she was out here.
Ragnar would probably give her the whole 'the darkness of the night is not meant for you.' But he would not understand this, he could not feel the same urging inside of him that she felt in this very moment.
So Frida made her way along the path, and did not slow her pace before she was no longer visible from the village, deep inside the silence of the forest. She could not see much, but she knew where she was going. She had been here with Athelstan many times, as this meadow held the grand wooden figures that represented the gods, and he had brought her there to see how the Norsemen presented gifts for the gods, foods, herbs, animals and such.
When she reached the meadow, Frida came to a stop.
The silence was pounding in her ears, the darkness was pressing against her skin, and she narrowed her eyes down at the big wooden figures of the gods that towered up from the ground like black shadows in the night. She could have sworn that she had seen a shadow moving in there, something snaking its way in between the figures, but she knew that it was probably just her imagination.
She was not scared, not even the slightest, as she started walking very slowly towards the great flat rock that stood in the middle of the meadow, where the offerings lay, and she breathed out in relief when she felt her insides finally settling down.
She did not know how to approach this kind of act, but she knew that she had to pray to the gods somehow, she had to tell them to care for Bjarni's family. And for her own.
However, Frida could not get herself to lay her eyes upon the statues around her. She felt like they stared down at her in the night, like their eyes were alive and piercing at her face, and she quickly sat down in front of the rock.
She felt observed, like someone was judging her every movement, and she gulped down.
She did not feel the relief she thought she would feel when she let the herbs and spices fall to the rock. There was something more for her to do, she knew it, and she quickly let her eyes fall upon two flintstones on the rock, and she quickly reached for them. They felt cold and smooth in her hands, almost like frozen liquids, and she fumbled them together, sparks crackling from them immediately.
A cold wind swooped across the forest floor, and Frida turned her face to stare into the darkness of the forest, sensing movement once more, a shadow lingering in there between the birch trees, watching her.
Now she felt a fear traveling along her spine.
In panicky movements Frida once more tossed the flints against each other, causing sparks to strike from them and fall down on the herbs. A small flame started to grow between the fragrant greens in front of her, and she watched as the flame slowly spread to catch on, a small fire quickly growing before her.
A thick and white smoke clouded upwards from the spices, and Frida sensed how the light from the small fire spread out in the meadow, the shadows around her now dancing vividly, as if the forest had come alive.
She rose to her feet and finally dared to face the figures around her.
Both fear and astonishment flushed over her body as she watched the faces of the figures.
They were moving, their eyes were blinking, and Frida's breath became staggered, when her eyes fell upon the figure in front of her, the wooden statue of Frigg towering above her, looking down on her with big eyes.
Frida felt an explosion of heat and alarm as the statue watched her, its eyes glaring on her face as if judging her.
Frida took a step back, and she reached her arms up to sway over her stomach, sadness growing in her heart. She cleared her throat.
"Frigg…" she whispered into the dark night, "Wife of Odin, please hear my words."
The words left her lips and entered the great silence that lay in the meadow, thick and unpleasant, and Frida searched her heart to find the courage as the want of running back to her home started to grow inside her.
A stirring inside her belly had her continuing: "Receive this small and humble gift, and fill me with your motherly affection. A terror has struck our village, the murder of an innocent man has left me…"
She searched her mind to find the right words.
"Feeling scared for his family, for my family, for… my coming child. Will you please fill the hearts of Bjarni's family with love and insurance. Help them in this time of sorrow, as they have lost their father, their husband, their…"
Frida closed her eyes.
"They need you, we all need you, I need you. How can I help them? How can I be the support they so long for? How can I… be a mother? How can I be a good wife to Ragnar? How…"
A stirring of leaves had Frida turn her head to once more stare into the dark forest, making shivers run down her spine.
Something was in there.
The shadow was alive. It was watching her carefully, listening to her words.
Frida felt her heartbeat fasten.
She turned her face to lay her eyes upon the statue in front of her once more. "Loving Frigg, please, fill me with your wisdom. Fill me with your motherly affections. Let me know how to take the role of a mother, a wife, a queen. I don't know how to…"
A horrible noise gashed the thick silence of the night. A creepy howling tore through her ears and froze her body, the cry of a wolf sounding from just in between the trunks of the trees.
Frida's blood was still, her heart had almost stopped, and she just managed to turn her head before the shadow that had watched her made its way into the meadow.
A juvenile wolf walked slowly towards her, its light blue eyes not moving from her face as it elegantly crept past the statue of Thor and closer to where she stood. Frida had no idea what to do. Her body was as still as the statues, and she looked at the wolf with big eyes as it only came closer and closer.
She felt the child inside of her stirring again, but she could not move, she could not tear her eyes off of the wolf that was creeping in on her, and she felt her heart pounding achingly in her chest, every fiber in her body yelling for her to get out of there.
The wolf made a snarling sound, showing its sharp white teeth, and Frida only watched in terror as it came closer, almost reaching the big rock she was standing at.
Frida's mind was raging. Her thoughts chaotically tried to come up with a way for her not to have her flesh torn apart, but she was like spell-bound by the slow movements of the wolf, the way its muscles tensed and relaxed beneath the thick bluish fur as it walked around the rock.
Frida finally tore her eyes away from the wolf, and she looked up to the statue of the goddess in front of her, Frigg looking down on her there in the night.
Is this what you want? she thought in silence, finally closing her eyes and awaiting the strike of the wolf.
Her thoughts immediately traveled to Ragnar, and she felt her eyes tearing up, when she pictured him before her, his eyes upon her dead body, her flesh torn to shreds and blood covering the great rock in front of her. Just another offering for the gods.
Frida clenched her teeth together and sighed out.
This was it.
Her body collapsed when she felt something wet and warm glide along her lower arm. Frida grabbed at the rock, and quickly tore her eyes to stare into the eyes of the predator beside her, the evil eyes of the wolf piercing into hers.
She breathed out in surprise when she realized that the wolf had not bit her, it had… licked her arm?
Frida rested herself upon the cold forest floor and held completely still, staring into the eyes of the wolf.
It slowly lowered its head at her, its cold wet nose touching her arm once more, before it looked up at her again.
Frida clenched her teeth together again. What was going on?
She heard the wolf making a soft sound, almost a whimper, before it moved its head down to push at her arm again. Frida lifted her arm very slowly, and she watched in astonishment as the wolf moved its head to rest against her arm.
Did it… Did it want her to pad it?
Frida widened her eyes when she saw herself stroking her hand down over the wolf's head, its fur on her palm feeling smooth and temperate, the wolf closing its eyes at her touch.
A smile parted her lips.
She knew that this was insane, this was completely mind numbingly crazy. She was actually sitting there petting a wolf in the middle of the night in the dark forest of Kattegat.
"What do you want?" she whispered, stroking its head once more.
The wolf looked at her before reaching its head up to lick her cheek. A smell of rotten meat and dirt hit her nostrils, but she did not shy away from it.
She kept completely still, letting the wolf have control. She did not know whether a quick movement would agitate the wolf. She would just let it do whatever it wanted.
The wolf made a satisfied whimpering sound as it stroked its head over her chin, and Frida sucked in her breath. Both fear and warmth traveled along her blood. She had no idea what was going on.
Suddenly, the wolf broke away from her, and it backed away a bit to look her in the eyes again. Frida simply watched it as it turned its head towards the path that led back to the village, and she turned her eyes too to see the small lights burning from the windows of the village.
The wolf's stare on her face was very intense, and she tilted her head at it, not knowing what it wanted.
The wolf rose to its feet and took a couple of steps towards the path.
Frida followed up, and she watched as the creature moved along the path before stopping to look back to her.
It wanted her to follow.
As if a magical spell had been cast upon her, Frida felt her legs move quickly after the wolf, her heart beat stronger than ever.
The sounds of the village grew louder and louder as they neared it, and Frida could sense the wolf keeping a shorter distance to her as they came closer.
When she felt its head under her hand, she stopped.
They had reached the village, and she looked down at it, their eyes connecting immediately. She felt herself nod her head, when the wolf looked her in the eyes, asking her whether it would be safe here.
"I will protect you," she whispered to it thoughtlessly, staring into the depth of its blue eyes.
The wolf suddenly laid down on the ground next to her very quickly, as a sound came from the house in front of them.
A door was opened loudly.
Frida saw Rollo's silhouette in front of her, and she watched him as he froze there, his eyes glaring to the wolf beside her.
Fear quickly spread over her body as she watched him draw his ax from his belt, and she threw herself on the ground, her arms covering the wolf as if it was her own child.
"No!" she screamed into the silent night, her voice ripping through the darkness between them.
Rollo stopped with his arm still raised, his eyes in shadows. She could sense that he was furrowing his brows at her.
Frida heard footsteps coming closer, and she saw Bjørn and Ragnar running around the corner to where Rollo stood.
Ragnar's voice was raspy, his breathing heavy from running: "Rollo, did you find…"
When his eyes fell upon Frida, his voice died out.
She watched him grabbing at his ax too, and Bjørn took a step forward, his weapon already raised.
"Don't hurt it!" Frida cried out again, feeling the wolf stir nervously beneath her protecting arms.
The wolf whimpered out. She could tell that it was frightened.
She watched as the three men looked at each other in awe, calculating their next step. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest.
Ragnar stepped forward, and Frida heard the wolf snarl. She looked down to stroke its head.
"Shh," she breathed, "He will not harm you."
She raised her eyes to Ragnar once more. "Don't harm it. Please."
Ragnar slowly made his way closer to them, his arm still grabbing at his ax. His words were restless, hushed: "Frida, this is not a dog, this is…"
"A wolf, yes," Frida concluded, interrupting his speech.
The wolf snarled quietly beneath her, cautious and calculating. She saw Ragnar's eyes resting upon the two of them, and she felt a growing wish for him to feel what she felt.
"I want it," she breathed into the night, "He is mine."
Ragnar's eyes flickered back to his brother and son, and Frida watched as they exchanged strange looks.
Her breathing was heavy, anticipating. She sensed the wolf stirring beneath her, and she soon felt its tongue traveling along her cheek carefully.
Ragnar tilted his head at this notion, his eyes narrowing down on the wolf, his chest heaving up and down as he stood there.
"But…" he whispered, but Frida cut his words short once more. "I know… But he will not harm me. Let me keep him, my love, please."
She held his gaze for quite a while, before he sighed out at her, resigned.
She took the wolf to their bedroom, where she fed it, before she rested her body on the bed.
Frida fell asleep the second she closed her eyes, while the small wolf watched her from the ground right next to her side of the bed.