Sæhrímnir

Days were exhausting, not having Vigdìs around. He had to constantly strengthen his mask, preventing his temper from sliding through his fingertips and breaking loose. It had happened before, and the people from Uddevalla had learned that Vidar was even more remorseless when his daughter wasn’t in the Kingdom. There hadn’t been much issues, but just enough to make Vidar’s head creak from the headache. It was a kind of relieve, when a servant messenger had entered his bedroom after a soft knock on the door, to tell him that his daughter had arrived. Vidar was still laying on his bed, the sheets curled up in the palm of his fist. Slowly he brought the fabric to his face, trying to feel, trying to smell his past, his wife, his identity. But everything was gone,  long lost but not forgotten. He hadn’t smelled her soft perfume of roses in years, and the spark in his heart as well in his eyes had dissapeared. Vidar had disappeared.

He didn’t knew how much time had passed since the servant had told him that Vigdìs was waiting for him in the dining room. It was only when the smell of food drew his attention that he was able to pull himself together again. With a soft grunt he found his feet, went with his hand through his hair to hide that he had been hiding in the safety and calmness that his sheets brought him.

’You are late.’ the mocking voice of his daughter rymed through the empty dining room that once had been so warm and cosy. ‘I am King.’ He reminded her when he stepped into the candle light and pinched his eyes to slits. Being King was one of the only things that was left of him, one of the few things that he was able to hold on to. He was a father for many years, but the father-figure had disappeared together with Hillevi.  Vidar had pointed his ice cold eyes in her direction, when he walked pass by her to reach his seat on the other side of the table. A servant pulled his chair back, only to push it forward again when he made preparative to sit down. He hadn’t taken his eyes of her for a moment and on his face was the same, dark grin that was on hers. A grin that only they could appreciate. ’You look tired.’ he said while filling his plate with all the goods that the servants had prepared for them. ’Found something?’ he then asked, his face immediately turned serious. They had never found anything, not about the intruders, not about Vern, but every time Vigdìs returned, he asked the same question over again. It wasn’t out of hope, it was just out of hunger for revenge.

Vidar knew he wasn’t the father he was supposed to be, he knew he had disappointed his Hillevi by becoming the man he was. But he had tried, tried to pick up the role of a father and put the role as a king to the side. But neither that had turned out well. The constant fighting with both his son and daughter, losing control over his people. No, a man, a King like him wasn’t suited to pick up both tasks. So he had turned into a dark, lone ruler to get back the control over his people and abandoned the role as a father. He had given others the task to raise his children until they were old enough to take care for themselves. And because of the fact that they were carrying his genes, that was pretty soon. They had become independent, strong and passionate about everything their father was passionate about. Now he was looking at his daughter, clearly exhausted about her journey. On a certain level he was proud, proud that she was still on his side, was just as determined as him to find the person that killed his wife and her mother. But Vidar would never show that, he would only push her further, test her limits and put her into place if she didn’t succeeded. He enjoyed it, seeing her resist the urge to roll her eyes at him. Over time she had learned what she could and could not do in his presence. And eye-rolling was one of those things. ’Likewise.’ Was her similar answer before she placed her teeth into a drumstick. Vidar raised the corner of his mouth into an evil glare. She was right, he was tired.

A few moments passed in which Vidar had filled his plate with all the goods that the servants brought to the royal table. But he hadn’t touched it once. Before he would be able to eat, he had to get a question of his chest. And Vigdìs knew what was coming, he could read it on her body. But even before he had asked the question, he already knew the answer. If she would’ve found something he would’ve heard from it even if she wasn’t home yet. But now they were sitting at the same table and there hadn’t fallen a word about it. And yet he had to ask it.. Vigdìs shook her head, and Vidar felt his heart cramp together. ”But I will.” She avoided his eyes, something he had never liked. So he just stared at her in dead silence, waiting for her to raise her head. The anger inside of him grow even stronger because of her stance. ”I’m thinking of going to Skagerrak next.” Vidar placed his cup onto the table with a loud smack. Ale poured over the sides and wettened the table. ”As soon as possible, actually. As soon as that suits you, that is.” He turned his hands into fists and felt his body starting to shiver from anger. ”Tell me I haven’t heard you well.” He said, gave her a fictional chance to correct herself. Vidar didn’t knew what to say next, totally in a two-battle with himself and the thing Vigdìs just had said. He knew she was his only chance to find the murderer of his wife, he knew she was the only one he trusted outside of the walls of Uddevalla. But she also was the one he needed on the inside. So her announcement of her early departure made him fill with anger just as well as shortcoming of company. He placed his forehead in his hand, stared at the table before he closed his eyes. Anger wasn’t the solution to this, he realised. ”I’m going to give you one more assent, Vigdís.” He said, much more softer than before. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked back at her, hoping this time she would be looking back. ”I need you here.” He sighed deeply. ”But I need you more out there. Just remember that I’m getting sick of all these failed assignments.” Vidar shoved away his plate, his hunger was over. For a moment he stared her straight into the eyes, cold blue to dark blue. ”You’re going to empty your plate and take a bath. Get some good night rest so you can leave tomorrow with a fresh mind and sharpened weapons.” He turned his head towards the slaves in the corner of the room, they had all hidden in the shadows when Vidar’s mood had switched. But only the look from the King was enough to make them run again, to take care of everything Vidar had just said. ”When you leave Uddevalla this time, it can’t be for nothing. If you want to return, the gates will only open if you have your brother with you, or the person who killed your mother.” Vidar raised his chin and took a deep breath. ”If not..” he didn’t even finished his sentence. She just had to make him proud, once again.

Vidar knew what he was asking of her. And he knew that there was a chance that she would never return to the Kingdom. Maybe she just would never succeed the quests he gave her, or would lose her life on the way. Asking this of her instigated an emotion that he hadn’t felt in a long time: fear. He was afraid that he indeed would never see her again. But Vidar knew that he would only find peace when Vigdìs succeeded. If not, he would rather spend the rest of his life alone in his Kingdom instead of being reminded to it all the time when he looked at her face. ”Understood, father.” He hadn’t expected another answer from her. ”I won’t let you down this time, your majesty, I promise.” Vigdìs had always been loyal to him. There wasn’t much love between them since Hillevi died, but there definitely was some kind of connection. Vigdìs pushed away her plate, just as Vidar had done before her. He looked at it, at the almost untouched food and the dull stare in her eyes. In any other case he would have commanded her to finish it, but now.. He only sighed and looked at the thralls coming to action to take care for everything that Vigdìs would need for her journey. ”You know I would do it, if I could..” His voice was more soft than usual. Vidar pressed his chair backwards and found his feet. He stepped alongside the table towards her, his fingers stroking over the wooden surface. When he was standing next towards her, he placed his hand on the top of her head and slowly moved his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had shown her some kind of affection. ”You have to succeed.” And with those words he took his hand back and left the dining room, again looking for comfort in his own bedchamber.