Chapter 14 - Reunion

The merchants. They're here.

The ghost of a sigh against my ear, and Froðe reluctantly pulls away and looks up at Huginn, as if receiving a message. I'm grateful to have the space between us, because what the hell, traitorous body? I shake my head, as if I can clear it from what just happened.

It doesn't work.

"Skuld is coming to fetch you. She will help you be...more presentable to meet with the traders," Froðe says, still looking up at the sky.

I raise a brow. Presentable?

Honestly, I'd rather stay in these clothes so I can be prepared for whatever happens. I doubt these traders know that a viking clan has completely taken over Tir Nairngire, and shit can definitely go south. Despite the kindness that Skuld and even though I hate to admit it, Froðe has shown, this could finally be it...My chance to escape and distance myself from these vikings. Surely a life among merchants is safer than one with vikings, right? I could try to barter passage with them, pleading my case. That I'm here against my will. But am I still?

Even as the idea hits me that it's the logical, safer path, there's a settle ache in my heart at the thought of leaving. Why? I've only been with these people for a few days. How could I have gotten that attached already? I've become too comfortable here, and that was probably Froðe's intention.

"Are you alright, fiery one?" Froðe's eyebrows are furrowed as he studies me, as if he can see my wheels turning. Uh oh. Don't tip him off.

"Yeah, I'm just not sure why I need to be there?" I ask, doing my best to shrug casually.

Froðe's eyes narrow and he prowls toward me in two strides, stopping a few inches away as he stares down at me. Shit. I raise my head to look up at him, eyes full of innocence, but I also don't back down.

"To be by my side, of course," he says, giving me a sly grin before shrugging off the quiver of arrows and handing them to me. "Get a few more practice shots in before Skuld comes to collect you."

I nod. "Thanks for showing me how to shoot."

A breeze picks up, freeing a few more of my copper tresses from my simple braid. The curls tickle my face and slightly conceal my right eye. Before I can tuck them behind my ear, Froðe reaches out and does it for me, slowly caressing my cheek with the back of his fingers in the process. I should slap his hand away. I should move my head. But I don't. Instead my skin tingles at the touch, and my heart starts to race again.

I can't do this. Not him.

His ice blue eyes drop to my mouth and he stills.

Fuck.

But Froðe removes his hand as he starts to pull away. "I'll meet you on the riverbank in 20 minutes."

Then he turns, striding toward the riverbank and raising his arm without looking up. Moments later, Huggin drops out of the sky to perch on his arm. With his current getup, cloak flapping behind him in the wind dramatically, his arrogant prowl and a telepathic arm accessory that lacks boundaries, he's a force to be reckoned with. I don't think the merchants are ready for him. They definitely aren't ready for him.

I huff a laugh at the thought, turning back to the targets. I manage to get a few more practice shots in before Skuld arrives and escorts me back to the tavern.

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Skuld makes quick work of my hair, weaving an intricate, four strand braid using the top half of my tresses only. After every couple plaits, she strings in silver beads carved with knot work to match the embroidery of my deep blue cloak. It's not lost on me that my clothes match Froðe's, and it seems very intentional. Skuld hums a beautiful melody as she works, the tune mystical and foreign to me, with a soft smile on her lips. She seems to be enjoying herself.

"Thanks for fixing my hair," I say when she reaches a lull in her song.

"It is my pleasure, my little flame," Skuld says, grinning at me through the reflection in the polished metal mirror in our room. "I used to braid my sister's hair every day when I was young." Her smile wavers a little after that revelation, her hand resting on my shoulder, and I can see the pain in her eyes before she replaces it with her usual smolder.

"I'm so sorry Skuld. You must really miss her." I give her hand a squeeze and turn to look at her. Her eyes crinkle and she squeezes my hand back.

"It is alright, little flame," she says, finishing up the braid and tying it with a leather cord. "I'm actually glad that she did not survive to endure what came next."

I look back at her, my brows furrowed, and Skuld gives me a sad smile. She then pulls down her pinafore and underdress from her right shoulder, revealing a branded mark a few inches away from her collar bone. It looks like it's been healed for quite a few years, but the scarring forms a distinguished knot-like shape.

Oh my god...is that...what I think it is?

"A brand?" I say in horror.

"Yes little flame, before I became a coveted Seeress...I was a thrall."

The realization hits me like a truck, as I can't imagine what unspeakable things she went through. But Skuld returns the neckline of her dress and gives my shoulder a squeeze this time.

"In this life, things can always change, and they change quickly. Sometimes for the worst, and sometimes for the better. That is why we often say, a tree with good, strong roots will laugh at coming storms."

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I look up at her in awe, marveling at how strong she is to have gone through so much, yet kept so much of herself in tact. To still have such kindness and care for others.

"How did you do it? Turn your life around again after weathering such a storm?"

Skuld smiles softly and shrugs. "I saved the right people at the right time with my potions and my knowledge..." then her smile turns absolutely feral, revealing teeth. "Annnnnnd.... I may have poisoned a few others that deserved it," she adds. She then taps a finger on her chin and tilts her head as she recollects. "Some of the side effects may have made them go completely mad and carve out their own skin."

Holy fuck. My mouth falls open. This is why Froðe's men fear Skuld. She is terrifying.

"Don't worry my flame," Skuld says, caressing my cheek. "I will teach you as well. I teach all my women how to bite back when necessary," she says with a cackle. "Ah! But we must go...you are ready now and I am sure our Jarl is eager to have his Frue by his side."

Frue....Lady?!

But before I can ask Skuld what the hell she means by that, she is ushering me out of the tavern and towards the river. She leads the way, stabbing the ground with her staff. A screech sounds overhead, and I glance up to see Munnin coming in hard. I step aside so I don't get side swiped during his landing, and he does a playful tumble in the air before landing on Skuld's shoulder.

My heartbeat starts to pick up as we near the crowd of people gathering at the riverbank, formulating a plan in my mind on how I will negotiate with the merchants on passage out of Tir Naingire. I can use the silver pieces in my hair to pay for my passage. I just need to talk to whomever is in command, alone somehow, so I can plead my case. Froðe gave me the impression that he wanted to form a trading relationship with these merchants, so if they are willing to trade with us, there will likely be no fighting and a safe path out of here.

That still leaves me with the biggest obstacle. How to talk to their leader alone.

I look to Skuld's stalking form, wondering if she would help me. She out of anyone else here would understand my dilemma the most, and she also has leverage in being able to help.

I pick up my pace so that I am side to side with her. She gives me a side eye, but says nothing. I lower my voice to a whisper, so the others around us don't overhear. "Skuld...if I were to ask you for something.."

She smiles knowingly. "Ah little flame, of course I would help you...but I'm afraid you will want to rethink your potential new path. At least for now."

.....right...Seeress...she likely already knows what I am asking.

But..."What do you mean?"

By way of answer, she tips her staff outward as if to point, as shouts start to pick up on the shore. We pause as the crowd thickens around us, and I glance up to where she gestures, then my heart sinks. There is a wooden ship docked at the riverbank, that is much wider and shorter than Froðe's longship, but the sail is undeniably square with painted red stripes. It's a viking ship. These are merchant vikings.

Well, fuck. Are they from Froðe's homeland?

Goods are being unloaded by the men on board as well as Froðe's clansmen. The crew on the merchant ship is much smaller than Froðe's clan, as I count only about six or seven. One of them, disembarking with a leap, slaps the back of Torsten in a good ol' bear hug and they both laugh. Yep. They know each other. Back Slapper has a mostly shaved head, with the unshaven top section intricately braided back and threaded through multiple silver beads. He wears high quality leather armor and mail similar to Froðe. In fact, he has a shade of sandy blonde hair and an equally strong jawline akin to him, though it's covered in a well-trimmed beard. A relative, maybe?

After hugging Torsten, the man makes his way up the shore, greeting the others. A familiar, tall blonde figure approaches him with a raven on his shoulder in deep blue and Back Slapper grins. "Hail and Joy, Brother!"

Oh great...just what I need. Another Froðe.

I do my best to ignore the side eye and knowing smirk Skuld is giving me from the corner of my vision. Why didn't he mention he was expecting family when he said Huginn spotted a merchant ship? Is he just fucking with me? To see what I would do?

"Hail and Joy, Arne," Froðe says as they embrace, and Huginn croaks. "Aye...you too you little scoundrel," Arne says as he gives Huginn a few scratches under his beak, but Huginn croaks at him and snaps at his fingers.

Arne retreats his hand just in time and laughs.

Nearly equal in height, Arne grasps his brother's biceps, as if examining him for any new scars and the stories behind them. Similar to Froðe, he has blue eyes, although they are much deeper and hold the glimmer of a seasoned traveler and driven adventurer. He looks like he may be a few years younger than his brother.

"Tell me brother, how have you fared in the past few months? Have you found your kingdom?"

Froðe smirks. "The Gods have yet to speak again of that, but I have chosen to establish a settlement here. We fare well." He rises an eyebrow. "As it seems you do, brother," he says, making a pointed look at the abundant amount of wares being taken off the ship. "The merchant life suits you well, Arne."

Arne chuckles at that and walks over to a chest being carried up the bank. "Come, I must show you my recent finds from the far East." The men carrying the chest note his approach and set it down. He throws open the lid to reveal the most stunning swaths of embroidered silk I've ever seen. I catch a glimpse of vibrantly stitched florals and elegant koi fish before Arne and Froðe stand over it to examine further.

"I'd give you a good deal for them, of course," Arne says with a wink, and Froðe examines them with interest. "They call it silk, made from a natural fiber created by worms, of all things! I have crates of it."

Froðe bends over to pick up what appears to be a scarf, dyed with vibrant blues and greens, and nods. It's the one with the embroidered koi swimming on the silk as if it were a rippling pond.

"Now tell me, what of your recent spoils? I saw your path of destruction all the way from the coast!"

Froðe looks up from the silk scarf and snorts. "Ahh...yes we found multiple structures called Monasteries, every major town in this land seems to have them. Full of gold and other treasures, and mostly unguarded."

"Unguarded?" Arne says, shaking his head in disbelief. "They must be mad to leave such things unguarded!"

"I suppose they believed their God was guard enough," Froðe says, and I don't bother hiding my scoff of disgust at that. Apparently it was a loud one though, as Arne whips his head our way and his piercing blue eyes spot me. Oops.

Arne eyes me up and down, a crooked grin spreading as he inclines his head in greeting.

"Clearly that was not the only treasure they left unguarded," he says, then gives Froðe a chiding look. "You've been holding out on me brother. Who is this lovely creature?"

I sigh. I'm not some fucking spoil to show off. But then Skuld jabs me in the back gently with her staff, pushing me forward and I begrudgingly join them.

"Arne, this is Beatrix. I found her a few miles South of Tir Naingire in the wilds." I throw Froðe a heavy side eye at that. Found me? More like kidnapped!

Arne eyes me with renewed interest, noting my matching clothes. "You simply found her, brother? Did she drop out of the sky?"

"Tumbled right out," I say, raising an eyebrow, causing Arne to chortle, hands on his hips. But inwardly, I wonder. Did I? Not exactly sure how I spawned here.

Froðe smirks, then explains. "She is not from our world brother, but from another," Froðe says. "But we will talk of that more later."

Arne's eyes widen at that, and he inclines his head to me in respect, palm on his heart and a twinkle in his eye. "It is a pleasure, Beatrix." So this brother is definitely the more charming one, I think.

"Pleasure's all mine," I say, giving him a soft, demure smile. Froðe's eyes narrow at me, but Arne grins. Hmmm, jealous?

"Oh...I do like her, Froðe. Tell me, have you made her your wife yet?"

Um, excuse me?! My head rears back and Froðe stiffens next to me.

Arne, just as clever as his brother, picks up on our reactions and his grin widens even further.

"Ah, so you haven't. Then it's fair game."