Eivor, mead-filled and nauseous, found herself tucked snugly in a stack of logs at the back of the longhouse where the sun pierced through her eyelids and warmed her ragged body. Her groan of protest tasted sour as vomit teased its presence at the back of her throat. How long had it been since she had let herself go this far?
Her eyes opened to look at a sky blurred by the yellow sun, only for them to crash shut from the splitting headache that wracked her with every heartbeat. With all she had, and a new threat of vomit that she swallowed back, Eivor pushed herself out of the log pile and shook off the spiders and bark that remained embedded in her clothes and hair. Her feet played a cruel dance and curses were slung as she attempted to gain her balance. Groans of pain tore through her gritted teeth as she held her head in her hands.
Clouded thoughts prevented her from piecing the night together as she stumbled to a nearby stream in hopes of easing the sting in her throat. Her knees gave way, dropping her to the ground in front of the cool liquid that flowed from the rocks. It took everything in her to not douse the ground in last night's mead and mutton as she leaned down to take a drink.
Crisp water spilled from the crack between her palms, cooling her body inside and out. She splashed her face and scrubbed the slobber that had glued itself to her cheek during her sedated slumber before rocking back onto her behind and seating herself against the base of a tree with a groan. The waters had rinsed away the sickness she had felt and tamed the headache brought on by last night's mistakes.
Her head fell back against the tree as the wind dried her chin and chest, and she closed her eyes to prevent the world from spinning. Dappled sunlight came through the tree above her, hitting her closed eyes now and then, causing her face to scrunch in pain as it shone through her eyelids; everything was torture. After months of learning to enjoy Irish wines, her body needed time to adjust to the mead she was used to before jumping back into drowning away her sorrows with such vigor.
Eivor remained motionless as she drifted in and out of consciousness. The sounds of nature kept her calm, and more importantly, kept the voices away; water rushing, logs being chopped, and birds chirping all played their part in keeping her mind at ease. A cold breeze blew in, rustling the leaves and plants around her. She scrunched her nose as the rustling grew louder, the thought of a storm blowing in only soured her mood further. If today was going to get any worse, being doused fully clothed would be what did her in. Her eyes refused to open as the rustling grew. Images of thunderous clouds and whipping winds flooded her mind as it drifted back into comfortable solace. Her down-turned lip was the only indication of discomfort as the rustling grew louder.
In her mind, she saw dark clouds, but in reality, the sun was blocked by a figure casting down its shadow. A light sigh of disapproval brought her back to reality. She recognized the sigh, as she had heard it a million times, and waited until they were settled before cracking an eyelid in an attempt to adjust herself to the sunlight. Her hiss of protest only aided in the second sigh, and she prepared herself for her scolding. Eyes open or not, Randvi was going to give her an earful.
Eivor couldn't help but feel annoyed that she was being followed and watched over, but she understood. Their Jarl was out in the woods, sobering up just a day after her arrival. She couldn't remember much from the night before, but she was sure she left some wondering about her sanity. It was normal for a viking to drink, encouraged even, but even she felt as though her fellow kin would not approve of her actions.
"That was some welcome home." Randvi spoke like she was talking to a child. The scolding undertone did not fall deaf on Eivor's ears.
"Was it?" Eivor's voice was low and gravelly. "I don't remember." She did her best at a smirk, but she was sure it was more of a grimace.
"That is not surprising. You downed almost an entire barrel of mead on your own."
"Heh." Eivor chuckled but quickly winced in pain.
"I am worried for you, Eivor."
Eivor mulled some words over in her head in an attempt to formulate a response, but she must have taken too long as Randvi filled the silence.
"I know Bàrid was important to you, but I don't think the way you're handling his death is healthy."
"Some mead is not going to kill me, Randvi." Her tone made it clear that she was not going to allow Randvi to parent her, no matter how right she was.
"You are allowed to grieve, Eivor," Randvi sighed. "but think about your people and what they might think finding their Jarl passed out under a tree." Her words were more pointed now as she grew frustrated. Eivor was hard-headed and impulsive, like her brother. There was no question that Eivor was better suited for the role of Jarl, but this was no way for a Jarl to handle themselves.
"Those who know how to have a good time would join me." Eivor cracked her eyelid to see Randvi with her elbows on her knees and chin in hand. Her hair fell to the side as she looked off into the woods and her jaw was clenched as she chewed on her next words that never came.
She knew Randvi had had enough just by the tension in her jaw alone. Fighting was not going to get either of them anywhere with her in this state. Randvi was good at keeping herself pulled together, much better than she would ever be, but she could see her losing her composure. This was one of those times where battles needed to be picked, and neither was dressed for the occasion.
With neither looking for a fight, Randvi took her leave. The silence that took over paved the way for Eivor to fall into a deep slumber. The world around her disappeared and her aching muscles relaxed as she slid to the ground and spent most of the afternoon snoozing in the green grass by the stream. No-one dared to disturb their sleeping Jarl.
The afternoon sun baked her like a fresh loaf of bread, coaxing her to chase the moving shadows like a cat chasing the warmth of the sun before she was forced to wake due to her shade running out. She gathered the small pieces of clothing she had dropped as she scooted across the ground before making her way back to the longhouse to find a fresh change of clothes and something more substantial than water to calm her now growling stomach.
Her walking around with the aftereffects of a hangover wasn't abnormal. Most everyone had seen each other drunk and regretful the next morning and those who did not know how long she had been passed out in the grass gave her a slap upon the shoulder and laughed along with her as they spoke.
In the following days, she made her way around Ravensthorpe, checking in on everyone personally and greeting the newcomers that had helped grow her home while she was gone. Not much had changed. Ravensthorpe was large and thriving well before she left for Ireland, and it was continuing to grow day by day. Her eyes fell onto familiar faces and scenery and her feet followed their familiar paths.
She did what she could to keep her mind occupied. Fish needed to be gathered and delivered to the fishing hut from the docks. She checked in on her latest trophy and chatted with Wallace as he prepped the hide to hang in the longhouse and she even enjoyed a few rounds of Orlog before being pulled back into the longhouse by Randvi to settle a dispute. She wasn't terribly happy about having to forfeit her bet, but her duties came before gambling.
They were never large nor tedious quarrels and the outcomes were normally fair. The last dispute she had watched be settled was when Sigurd had just returned and reclaimed his place as Jarl. It was one of the few times she went behind her brother's back; she could not leave the two with the resolution that they had been given. It made her happy to see Sigurd in a better mindset now, even if he wasn't the same.
At times, she regretted her actions and opinions of her brother while he was struggling. Her unwillingness to understand as someone whispered tales of grandeur in his ear and twisted words to feed him lies lead to him being tortured and almost dying. Remembering him when he was found, how she couldn't understand him, her gut reaction when she found him bleeding out; it all made her sick to her stomach to think about. Even if her brother had turned cold from all that had happened to him, he was still her brother, and she would love him to the very end.
Once all quarrels were settled in a satisfactory manner, Eivor found herself climbing to the comfort of her hidden loft. She snuck into the rafters of the longhouse and laid on the wooden floor of the hidden room she had made when they had first arrived. It was originally used for storage, but Eivor had rearranged and cleaned out the area, allowing her respite from the hellscape of everyday life.
To everyone else, it still looked like a storage room. Purposefully placed crates and a rug to dim the candlelight filtering through the floorboards allowed her to hide away without any inkling to where she was. Only a small opening let her in, and even that was covered by a seemingly haphazardly placed rug.
Lately, she had been using it for when Randvi and she needed some time alone from prying eyes. Although Sigurd and Randvi ended their marriage on equal terms, she did not feel comfortable showing affection to her brother's ex-wife in front of him. It was a strange arrangement, but it was amicable, and sometimes the closeness of their bedrooms did not lend well to their not-so-tender love making.
As she dozed in and out, her mind wandered off to Ireland against her will. Every attempt she made to remove it from her mind only made its presence stronger. Finally, succumbing to her daydreams at the will of her heart, her mind played her a vision. A vision of songs and fiery red painted itself on the back of her eyelids as the world around her disappeared. She chased after her red-headed temptress in the lush forests of Ireland and tasted her body once more in the refreshing waters, passing time and avoiding the storms that were brewing for a moment of peace.
The touches felt real as she was laid out in the grass. Red hair tickled her skin as hands ran up her stomach and lips trailed kisses down from her navel. Small sighs of pleasure escaped her lips in her state of drowsiness, but she dare not open her eyes in fear of losing her vision, but as her pleasure grew, her daydream faded and made way to the real teeth nipping up her side and the hand making its way up her tunic.
Her eyes stayed closed as her fingers ran through the soft, long hair that tickled her stomach. A soft moan escaped her lips as her trousers were tugged down to allow teeth to nip at her hip, followed by kisses that soothed the pain. With her other senses dulled, every touch was euphoric. Her gasps and soft moans sounded like screams of pleasure to her mind..
Her eyes fluttered open in the dim candlelight to reveal the similar rafters above her. Teasing lips and wondering fingers pulled her from her dazed state. Cool air brushed across her bare skin as fingers hooked into her trousers and pulled, exposing all but what was most sensitive to her. As lips kissed all around, she gasped and mouthed the name of the red-headed woman in her daydream. Her heart raced as she writhed under the teasing tongue that made its way back up her stomach and to her lips to share in the passion.
Their tongues mingled and hands traveled clumsily over each other's bodies. Their lips parted as Eivor grit her teeth to keep quiet as fingers sought out and rolled over her hardened nipple and her pursuer took the chance to coat her neck and shoulder in passionate kisses. She felt her name form in her throat and come to life on her tongue, but Eivor's words were cut short when her lover spoke, saving her from a conversation she was not ready to have.
"It's been some time since I've seen you this excited, Eivor." Her voice was low and sultry and laced with a level of satisfaction Eivor had not heard before.
"Randvi." she breathed out. Her chest heaved as she worked to control herself; did Randvi hear what she had said? Her mind stopped and her eyes shot open. This wasn't the red-headed seductress in her dreams.
"Relax." Randvi pushed Eivor back down to the floor and kissed her neck. "You've been so stressed since you've come back. Let me do something for you."
"Randvi, I can't." Guilt flooded in to replace her excitement. She propped herself onto her elbows as Randvi made her way down her stomach. Her body still wanted what Randvi had to offer, but she could not accept her advances with another woman on her mind.
"You always do this for me, Eivor. Let me return the favor."
"Please stop, Randvi." Eivor's voice was stern but breathless as she looked down at her partner, whose face was now full of shock. The feeling of guilt only grew as she watched her scoot away with the face of a kicked puppy. She felt gross as she put her clothes back into place.
"I'm sorry." Her eyes didn't meet hers. "I can't. There's too much on my mind."
"No, Eivor, I shouldn't have taken advantage of you in such a state. Do not apologize. It was selfish of me to think that you would be ready so soon." Shame filled her voice as her cheeks grew red.
Eivor stared off blankly. How could she tell the person she professed her love to that she had an affair in Ireland? That she dreamed of her every night; relived the day she walked away and wondered what else she could have done to convince her to come with her to Ravensthorpe to live her life instead of hiding in that forest, waiting to be killed by those that used her? How could she tell her that the reason she wouldn't make love to her was because she wished she were someone else?
"I appreciate you wanting to do this for me." Eivor took Randvi's hand and ran her thumb over it. "You did nothing wrong." Her words were sincere as she held back the guilt that threatened to spill from her mouth.
"You've been gone for so long." Randvi's voice cracked.
Eivor's heart broke for her, not because she felt the same, but because she no longer shared the same sentiment. For the first time, she realized that she had not once thought of Randvi after she had met Ciara. She had become infatuated with her, but Ciara was gone; she was never coming back, and it was time she went back to her normal life. Randvi would never have to know. This would stay her secret.
"I am sorry. I did not think of how my absence would affect you." Eivor pulled Randvi into a gentle kiss turned long embrace before they curled up onto the furs she had laid down for the night.
There was nothing she could do but pretend; pretend to love her again, pretend to care in hopes that the excitement of the affair would fade and she would begin to feel love again for the woman who was curled up into her side with a grip on her chest that told her of the sadness she had caused. For tonight, she would pretend that the red hair that lay across her chest was richer and the hand she stroked was paler so she could find comfort in sleep and tomorrow she would pretend that she was not broken for the sake of Randvi and her people.