"Look! Look, Hvitserk! You see it?" The whistling sound of Ubbe's whispers sneaked their way into Frida's ears as the small group walked close down a wet and soggy path of their destination, the moor of Heddinge.
Frida narrowed her eyes down at what Ubbe was pointing at, but she saw nothing but the reed grass that flourished heavily around the edges of the many bog pools that covered the area as she took careful steps forward, constantly feeling her husband's hands on the small of her back.
She could sense his tension easily through the thick and wet air of the moor, as they moved slowly forward, how his eyes repeatedly hovered from her to Ubbe and Hvitserk, who were further up the path.
Even though Frida had told him to just follow his sons and let her walk on her own, Ragnar had insisted on staying behind her, a small snort and a glare of narrowed eyes was his only answer to her proposals.
She sensed how his hand moved over her back along with her every step, quickly calculating how to advance if an accident were to happen, and she could not help but to feel warmth coating her heart as she took in the beauty of the landscape in front of her.
The moor was indeed very mysterious.
The enormous amounts of pools of bog water divided the moor into narrow paths that were crooked and strange, tall and strong birch trees towering up from the waving earth that was covered by lush evergreen moss. The sticky warmth of the moor caused clouds of mist to roll from the stills of the bog water and over the ground like a mystic spell, thick in the air like the steam over boiling water.
The sounds of the place were even more strange and unfamiliar to Frida.
You would have expected to hear frogs or crickets in a swampy place like this, but it was so very quiet compared to any forest she had ever walked through, small dripping noises repeatedly clinging from the watery grooves, the sound of a chirping bird only heard once in a while.
There was another sound too, a sound that Frida could not recognize, even as she strained her ears as she made her way over the miry moss beneath her. It was like a gentle swishing sound, a whistling of some sort constant in her ears, as if the nature around them were soughing.
As if it breathed.
A small splashing noise had the whole group startled, every one of their faces turned sharply to the moving water at their left, where expanding rings of water was the only sign left of the creature that had surfaced the water.
"I bet it was one of the elves, Hvitserk," Ubbe whispered with a smug expression over his face, causing his little brother to look over his shoulder.
"Stop scaring your brother, Ubbe," Ragnar growled from behind Frida, before puffing at her, ordering her to keep moving.
Frida sent a last glance back to the stirring water, and when she turned her eyes back in front of her, she saw Floki watching it too.
She sent him a small smile, and he moved the corner of his mouth a little upwards at her, probably doing his best to return the notion before too turning around to move further ahead of the path.
As had been told in the song from before, fish were of plenty in places like these, so Frida shook her head a little as to shake off the weird feeling that was gnawing at the back of her skull, causing her to look over her shoulder just like Hvitserk had.
The small group of people continued on like this for a while, before they found a high-ground with solid earth, where they were to rest. They had brought some flatbreads and sausages, accompanied by ale of course, that they were to enjoy in the beautiful surroundings.
And it did feel wonderful, to sit there between the greenery of what was known to be the kingdom of elves and have lunch, small conversations scattered among the group of people that were resting beneath the shadowing crown of a tall birch tree.
Floki had already given up making a fire, as all of the twigs nearby were too wet for the flames to lick.
Not that a fire was necessary, to say the least. The late summer was hot.
Frida could feel how a fine cover of sweat ran over her skin. Which was probably why Floki had just given up and let himself fall to the cool earth under his feet, spreading both arms and legs as to let some air cool his skin.
Frida quickly noticed how small mosquitoes danced over the still waters around them, and how the earth suddenly crawled with life around them, small insects and bugs peeping out from the grass under her. She rose to her feet in a swift movement, and made a little jump on her feet.
Not that she was not used to insects in her everyday life, just not this amount of them being this close to her.
"Where are you going, love?" Ragnar voiced from over by the tree trunk of the massive tree the whole group was resting under.
His eyes were almost closed, as he sat there, and she sent him a little assuring smile as she took some steps away from the tree.
"Just looking around a little, I won't be far," she smiled as she turned her eyes to the beautiful nature in front of her.
It was like a fairy tale walking among these woods, and Frida had a tingling sensation creeping over her skin as soon as she turned around a little curve in the path in front of her. A beautiful path ran like a river in front of her, enclosed by the striped white trunks of birch, and she smiled to herself as she continued down its crunchy path.
She could still hear the high pitched voices of Ubbe and Hvitserk chatting, so she knew she had not gone far.
The path she walked on soon opened up in front of her, and she found herself suddenly gazing into a small sunlit meadow, in which wild red flowers grew low over the ground, small yellow milk tubs* appearing here and there in between.
When she sensed movement ahead of her, she felt her heartbeat fastening, and she turned her eyes quickly, only to find herself staring into the brown eyes of a young fallow deer. Its head was peeping out from the lush thicket edging to the thicker forest behind the meadow, and it seemed to be looking directly at Frida, its eyes curiously roaming over her figure.
Frida froze in her stance, her eyes not leaving the deer, and she felt the breaths of the moor around her leaving a small stripe of moist over her upper lip as she stood there. The sight of the deer in front of her, glaring at her, had her breathing calm breaths, exhaling gently into the warm summer air.
The fur that ran along its throat was white, but over its lengthy back ran a thick coating of brown, spotted with small beads of white, but this deer had no antlers growing from its scalp.
It was a female, she could tell not only from this, but also from the smoothness of its face and its eyes, curious but alert, reminding Frida of the innocence of her own childhood memories.
She suddenly saw the image of her mother flashing by for her eyes, like a ghost of the past, but not frightening her in any way, but reviving something dead inside of her that felt warm as it started pumping along with the blood in her veins.
Frida closed her eyes for a small second, and smiled to herself as she shook her head lightly.
How peculiar that it was in a place like this, a moor this peculiar and unique in its every breath was to remind her of her mother's soul. But then again, the air that circulated here, the atmosphere that the tall trees and the low still waters created in the mist of the landscape somehow made her feel like she had when she was a child, being around her mother.
She just could not remember why.
A sudden sound behind her had Frida swirl around in a quick movement, raising one of her arms in front of her while protecting her stomach with the other.
She lowered her arm when she realized that it was Ragnar who had caused a twig to snap behind her, coming into the meadow with a curious smile on his lips.
Frida exhaled in a chuckle over how strange this place had her acting, and she smiled at her husband who was approaching her slowly, still this curious smug curl over his lips.
She had already forgotten everything about the deer.
"I followed an elvish girl here," he soothed from his lips that barely opened as he spoke them, his raspy bass traveling gently into Frida's ears and down into her stomach, calming her with its warmth.
The air still had her skin tingling as she raised her eyebrow at him, tilting her head slightly.
"What did she want from you?" Frida played, as he came closer to her, his arms innocently tucked behind his back.
"Hm," Ragnar smiled crookedly, and squinted his eyes at her as he closed the distance between them, towering over her, his eyes piercing down into hers, swallowing her in their light as she stood there.
"She wanted to seduce me, have her way with me," he rasped over her face, his lips curling ever so smugly.
Frida raised her eyebrows. "And you followed her?"
Ragnar puffed out a small cloud of air from his lips, wetting them, before he spoke: "Yes, I think she is here right now, singing for me."
Frida let her eyes wander over the shrubbery that surrounded them in the meadow.
She could hear nothing more than the breathing soughs of the moor, the humming of a bee flying lazily by in the warm rays of the sun nearby also prevalent in the sunlit circle.
Frida smiled curtly at her husband in front of her.
"Hear, young fair lad, will you not stay? I will teach you things of new that only the depths of your heart knew you have long desired," she soothed melodically, stretching her neck as to let her voice travel better into his ear.
She could feel his heat beaming of him, sending small bolts of lightning to shoot over her skin along with the tingling of the forest air, and she felt herself trembling a little, when Ragnar breathed into her ear. He planted a soft kiss on her cheek, and Frida felt herself give into him, leaning her entire body into his arms.
She hugged her arms around him, his lips already crashing upon hers, causing her breath to get stuck in her throat.
His lips felt hot on hers, and she sighed out into their kiss as she felt him cup her face with his rough hands, the heat beaming off him like a fire.
"Your magic is too strong, I… I'm afraid…" Ragnar smiled in between small kisses, but Frida hugged him tighter, forcing her tongue to enter his mouth, his words dying with the spread of his taste over her tongue.
She felt his hands shooting down her body, hugging her entire figure before they traveled to her bottom, groping around them entirely with his big hands and cravingly clenching them as he gently let his teeth bite the tip of Frida's tongue, causing her to whimper out into his mouth in surprise.
Frida felt herself blushing heavily as they stood there in the meadow, and she suddenly grew conscious of where they were. "Ragnar," she soothed in something between a whisper and a moan, "We're not alone in these woods."
She felt his mouth leave the skin of her neck as he let his face turn to the sky above them. "No, I know," he breathed. "I will never be alone with you, my beautiful, magical elvish girl."
They spent some time alone in the meadow of the moor before they found their way back to the rest of the group of Danes and Geats. Frida could not stop smiling.
*Milk tubs, or dandelions. I chose the word milk tub because the Danish word for it is "mælkebøtte" (milk-bin/tub). Fun fact and all.
What do you guys think? Let me know! :)