Taking a stroll (Bjorn)

Even though the sun was shining, it was still cold outside. There were goose bumps on his arms, and his lips were blue from the cold. But that weren’t indications for Björn to get out of the water and look for the warmth of the great hall again. He had been through worse. The water made him feel weightless, the cold took away his focus from his problems. He was floating on his back in the water of the little lake which was hidden somewhere between the trees. With his arms he made little stirring movements, but the rest of his body was dead quiet. Björn had his bright blue eyes pointed at the sky that was surrounded by the treetops. And finally he was able to put his mind at ease.

Until the crackling sound of branches echoed in the distance. With soft splashes Björn found his feet again. The water came just beneath his chest, his tattoos clearly visible. Björn turned in the direction of the sound, and eventually saw a silhouette from a girl appear from behind the trees. He frowned his forehead and tried to recognize her. It took some time, but eventually he was able to distinguish her physical featured and the typical garb she was wearing. A slave. At first he just looked at her in dead silence, until she came closer. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be serving?’ He asked with a deep undertone in his voice. With his intimidating gaze he tried to look straight into her soul. Björn knew she was a new servant, but further he knew nothing about her. He didn’t let himself in with servants anymore, after he learned his lesson with Þórunn. Quicky he looked at his clothes in the grass next to the lake, before he struck his eyes again on the blonde girl.

The way the girl came closer, betrayed that she was on guard. It was clear that she didn’t trust the situation entirely, but that she was confident enough to check it out. Or stupid enough. Björn stroke with his wet hand over his face, leaving a few drops of water that slid down over his neck and chest until they found their way to the lake again. He stood there, quietly watching her, observing her reaction. Björn knew his presence often had a big influence on others. And so it did on her. As soon as she realized she was looking at the half naked prince of Kattegat, she immediately bowed. After a weak, uncertain smile she answered to his question. ’Not today.’ Björn tilted his head a little higher and did a step forward, the water around his waist waved as he moved. More and more of his skin became visible and the girl would soon notice that he wasn’t wearing anything but the costume he was given by the Gods. Björn could simply have asked her to hand him over his clothes, but he did not. He wasn’t the type that would use the obedience of the slaves like for example Ivar would do. He respected slaves, and hated them at the same time. All because of one girl that left a huge scar on his heart.

It was her choice to look away or to keep staring at him when he finally stepped out of the water and revealed his bareness. He wasn’t shy or ashamed over his body, on the contrary, he saw it as a piece of art where people could find all of his stories. The scars, the tattoos, his hairstyle.. And after all she was just a slave. Björn looked at the girl one time, before he picked up his clothes and started to dress himself even though his body was still wet from the water of the lake. When he was dressed again found his body warmth beneath his bearskin, he turned himself towards the blonde girl. ’What name do they call you?’ he asked with a deep voice and looked at the blue, almost purple stains that were on her clothes.

Without even having to ask, or even without having to want, the girl turned around to respect Björn’s bareness. Björn stared at her back, while he walked upon his clothes and started to get dressed. Respect was something that meant a lot to him, and the slave surely showed it to him. Although he was questioning the sincerity of her behaviour. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that most of the slaves were forced in their position and were just waiting to break free in any way possible. But he didn’t cared much anymore. ’They call me many names.’ Björn looked up from his clothes when she became silent. ’A special slave.’ he said with a deep undertone in his voice, definitely not impressed. When he spoke, the girl turned around even though he had not said that he was dressed. Björn stared her straight into the eyes, intimidating but not aggressive. He had to admit to himself that he always liked the slaves with an arrogant side more than the quiet ones. And she was definitely sure about herself in a certain way: She had stepped out of the forest with almost none hesitation. She had turned without permission. ’My name is Sigrunn.’ she finally answered the question. There was a smile on her face, and Björn observed it. His own face did not move a muscle. ’You were named after the Valkyrie.’ he said silently. ’But you don’t have to call me like that.’ Björn took a dead breath and rolled his shoulders back, stretching them. ’You are a prince after all.’ He did a step closer towards her and pinned his eyes in her. He held his head slightly sidewards. Björn did not know if she was mocking him on purpose, or that she just was so naïve and innocent. ’Who is your father.’ he asked her, his voice even deeper than it was before.

Valkyries, winged warrior Godesses from Valhalla who chose who died and who lived in battle. They had always been good for him, his name Ironside could only confirm that. And just as Björn carries his title with haughtiness, Sigrunn was proud of hers. It was clearly visible in the look of her eyes. She carried a certain fire in her heart, that would need a lot to burn out. ’My father was a fighter from Uddevalla.’ When Sigrunn smiled, Björn did exact the opposite. Uddevalla, again. But the girl didn’t seemed to think that it was a problem, so she kept talking. ’He died in battle, on one of his raids.’ To give her words some more strength she stared Björn straight into the eyes. ’Now he is in Valhalla.’ Björn took a deep breath, trying to keep his calm. ’Then how did you end up here? Because by the looks of it, it seems that Uddevalla has been raising a lot of traitors.’ Thinking about Svart he made a pronunciation that maybe wasn’t applying on her. But Björn was known for acting before thinking.

He could see it on her body language, that she was trying to hold herself back as much as Björn himself was trying to do. It were two strong personalities standing in front of eachother, not trying to give in to the anger and impatience that flood through their veins. She was just a slave, he the Prince of Kattegat. ’Like you said, Uddevalla was raising a lot of traitors.’ A forced smile appeared on her face, but Björn wasn’t even putting effort in trying to soften his facial expression. ’That is the reason, why I left with my sister.’ Björn raised his eyebrows, only realising just yet that she had a sister, also in Kattegat. ’But my father was not a traitor. Nor I or my sister.’ this time angriness was audible in her voice, and Björn took a deep, irritated breath. All these people coming from outside Kattegat, it gave him a lot of stress and things to think about. ’What was your duty inside the walls of Uddevalla?’ he suddenly asked and pierced his eyes onto hers. If she had worked there as a servant too, she maybe was able to tell him something more about the Kingdom of Vidar Ingvarsson since Björn himself had never been there.

It irritated him in a certain way, that he wasn’t able to intimidate her. On the other way around he liked her fierceness. It made him question what he actually was looking for in a slave, since he knew how wrong things could turn out when they were too fierce. Björn pushed away his thoughts about Porunn and looked back at the girl in front of him, listening to whatever she had to tell him about her past. ’I was taking care of my sister and our house.’ When she told so, she was keeping calm. ’Since my parents were on the raids most of the time.’ And with the memory of that, a glance of grief appeared on her face. She was still dealing with the feelings, that was clearly visible. ’That was my only duty in Uddevalla, since my father thought I was too young to have other duties.’ Björn nodded in an understanding way, but he didn’t showed any sign of empathy. Life was hard, that was just the way things were. ’So you don’t carry the mark.’ He asked as he took a step closer towards her. He opened up his hand and gestured her that she had to lay her wrist in it. Her fingers were blue, probably from plucking and eating berries. But that wasn’t what he was looking for. ’Roll up your sleeve.’ he commanded her in a gentle way, still holding her hand. Focussed he watched her wrist becoming visible.

The slave girl rolled up her sleeve just as Björn had commanded her. With a certain curiosity in his eyes he looked the pale skin, revealing itself from beneath the fabric from her worn dress. No mark. Clear skin. When Björn looked up from her wrist, into her eyes he saw that she was already watching him. She carried a glance in her eyes, an I told you so kind of glance. And Björn liked and disliked it at the same time. The girl smiled weakly but Björn didn’t answer it. He released her wrist, making it fall right next to her small body. ’Just remember who you serve now, Sigrunn.’ Björn added and lifted his eyebrows in an intimidating way. Further he had nothing to say, so he made preparative to leave.