Bjørn's arrival had made the whole village breathe out in a sigh of relief, it seemed.
Most of them were already peeping their heads out from the warm hides that were their homes, but since the moon was already visible above them, no one bothered to leave the four walls of their warm cottages.
The gods seemed to have calmed too.
The rain was no longer washing down over all of them in thick torrents, and the sky seemed to be clearing above them, the heavy clouds vanishing into the air like smoke from a fire.
Frida had not been outside for long, breathing in the fresh air that had been cleansed by the godly rain of the storm and sighing out in relief of Bjørn finally having come home, before she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She spun around to look into the rocky blue eyes of a tall blonde Norse woman. Lagertha was smiling at her apologetically.
"By the gods, Lagertha!" Frida blurted in a sigh, and she hurled herself forward into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around Lagertha's strong figure. The blonde seemed to be surprised by the sudden contact, but she soon relaxed into the embrace, giggling sweetly as she hugged Frida back.
"I'm so glad to see you. And Bjørn," Frida breathed out as their hug ended and they turned back to look at each other.
Lagertha's face showed that she felt the same exact relief as Frida did, her eyes soft as she spoke: "I'm very glad to see you too, Frida. And I thank the gods too that my son is finally home. That is why I have come to you."
Her eyes hardened with her last sentence, and Frida tilted her head a bit at the beautiful woman in front of her as she sensed her air change. Something was up.
"What is your worry?" she asked quickly, lowering her voice as her eyes hovered over to the door leading back to her bedroom. It was closed, safe.
Lagertha let her eyes fall to the floor between them, biting her lower lip as she breathed in heavily.
Frida watched her with concern in her eyes.
When Lagertha finally raised her eyes to look into Frida's, she spoke in a thin voice, her figure shrinking a bit as she said: "Bjørn is very… out of himself right now. He seems off, I can't…"
She sighed out as she weighed the words in her mouth, and Frida only listened patiently.
Lagertha actually seemed scared, something that she had not seen many times before. "We're having a meeting soon in the long-hall. Ragnar sent me to get you. And… Well, will you maybe help me in there, if something goes wrong?"
Frida sent her questioning eyes, not quite following her yet, mumbling: "Well of course, Lagertha, but how do you mean?"
Lagertha stared at her for a moment before she whispered: "I fear for the coming raid in England, and I don't know why. I think it has something to do with Eysteinn Beli and his warriors. Something I saw in a dream. Will you back me up in there, if they agree to something we should not bargain for?"
The two women stared at each other silently for a moment, merely gazing into each other's eyes as a minute flew by without them noticing.
Frida nodded firmly, causing a note of relief to flash over Lagertha's face.
She nodded too, whispering an almost inaudible 'thank you' as she turned around to enter the longhouse. Frida followed her into the long-hall, where a group of people sat gathered in a circle around the fire pit in the center of the room, and she soon felt Ragnar's stare on her face, luring her to him.
She placed a quick kiss on his forehead as she sat down between him and the Götaland king, and she felt him swaying his hand over her big stomach. The child growing inside of her responded with a kick, causing Ragnar to smile to himself, smugly.
"Now we can begin," Ragnar's voice towered out over the circle of people, "and I wish to speak first."
His eyes traveled over the many faces of the small group of people that were gathered in the long-hall, his lips curling smugly as they rested on Bjørn's figure.
Frida noticed Bjørn and Ingeborg sitting next to each other.
"Now that we are all together, our plans for next summer's raid can finally take form. As most of you know, I do not wish for this raid to be like our past ones. I wish to seek out the king of England, speak to him. See if he can offer us something more than mere treasure."
Ragnar's voice almost echoed in the otherwise silent room. Frida felt warmth drip along her blood.
"In order to do this," Ragnar continued, his eyes roaming over to Floki's dark eyes, "We need to come in a large number. I want the English king to take us seriously. Our two kingdoms will strive to get as many boats as possible to cross the sea. This means that we all have to seek out more men to join us, to go with us in our first meeting with the ruler of this land. And we need to do it fast. Eysteinn?"
The Götaland king nodded firmly, the word passing onto him quickly. He downed some mead before speaking. "Hear, Regnar. My daughter and I will return to Uppsala in the morning, and immediately send out messengers. I hope to acquire six boats, maybe more, let the gods have it."
"Yes," Ingeborg chimed in, "When they hear that Regnar Loðbrók, the son of Sigurd Hring*, calls upon them, they will come. I am sure of it."
Frida noticed Bjørn's hand on Ingeborg's knee. She felt her cheeks blushing.
"I shall too ride out in the morning," Bjørn hummed out proudly. "I wish to go to Hedeby with my mother, to seek out the help of Kalf."
Frida's eyes shot to Lagertha who stared bluntly at her son. Her lips were formed into a small 'o', and Frida felt her nerves tightening, remembering what she had promised her.
"Bjørn, I… He just gave us his only blacksmith. I do not know how much we can ask of him," Lagertha breathed, her eyes not leaving her son.
Frida eyed Bjørn too now, and she watched him pull his shoulders lightly, his eyes turning to stare into the fire in front of him.
"We will try," he stated in a firm voice.
Frida's eyes met with Lagertha's once more, and while they stared at each other for a short moment, Lagertha soon nodded slowly. She looked defeated somehow, but she still sent a quick smile to Frida, telling her that it was alright.
"Of course," she whispered.
"And you, Regnar, you know how to communicate with the Saxons?" Eysteinn asked as he bit into a yellow pear, causing fruity juices to run down into his beard.
"Yes," Ragnar rasped smugly, his eyes glaring over to Frida quickly before returning to the Götaland king. "Athelstan and my dear wife taught me. They will both join us, come the summer."
Frida felt eyes turning to her face, and she looked down on her stomach that was bulking out underneath her dress, swaying her arms over it gently.
She hoped their child would come before the first snow, so she could have plenty of time to prepare for the voyage.
She wished to be strong, even though they were not to fight. She had a dark tingling sense crawling in the back of her head that some kind of collision between the Vikings and the Saxons was inevitable. The ax and the sword.
Frida shook her head.
She had let her thoughts wander, and she quickly looked back to Ragnar, focusing on the conversation once more.
"My dear friend, Floki, has promised me to work on more boats. He is our most skilled carpenter," Ragnar said.
Floki hissed out a giggle and waved his fingers awkwardly in front of him, bowing his head at the group of people in front of him.
Before long, the conversation spread out in the group, and Bjørn and Ingeborg were soon not to be found in the long-hall, as Torstein had pointed out with a raised eyebrow and a smile under his beard.
Rollo barked out a laugh and cocked his eyebrows at Frida, chuckling: "They're probably borrowing your bathtub, huh Frida?"
Frida widened her eyes as the memory of Rollo peeping his head in when she and Ragnar had been…
She shrugged, shaking the image out of her head. "Shut up, Rollo."
The day had turned to night and soon people scattered from the longhouse, returning their heads to their pillows.
Only Bjørn and Ragnar were sitting by the fire at this hour, their faces close, their blue crystals staring into each other's while the embers of the fire were crackling joyfully.
"You know that I missed you more than I thought I would?" Ragnar whispered silently, letting his eyes drop to the floor beneath him. "You are one of the only persons here I fully trust. You and…"
"Athelstan," Bjørn broke in.
Ragnar breathed out a chuckle, raising his arm to rest it on Bjørn's shoulder. "Yes, Athelstan. And Frida. Floki."
As he spoke out the last name, his eyes rose to Bjørn's once more, and he watched how his son reacted to his words.
Bjørn watched his father carefully, and he nodded firmly, his lips tightening into a straight line.
Pride shone from his eyes. "Yes, and mother, Rollo and Torstein."
Ragnar nodded. "Our family."
* Sigurd Hring/Ring: Swedish king and the father of Ragnar Lothbrok (hence his birth name, Ragnar Sigurdsson. Lothbrok is a nickname, like Ironside is to Bjørn).