Chapter Eighty-seven

Enid watched as Ivar opened the door, his shoulders still stiff and rising, his hand gripping the handle so tightly.

"Gro," he said.

"Can I come in?" Enid heard from outside, and then Ivar grunted, holding the door open for the Princess to step inside, her eyes somehow bright, somehow dull and sad as she stared around the room.

Enid felt that bitterness that sprang to her stomach, that sour taste that caked the back of her tongue as she remembered that shattered pitcher, but Gro smiled, nodding and sitting down by the fire near Hilda before she stared off into the flames.

"I won't be long," Gro said. "I… I just have some things to give you."

She beckoned for one of her slaves, pointing for them to drop the baskets in his hands before sending him away, and then Gro stared at one of those baskets, her eyes lingering on the cooked meats inside before she sighed and turned to Hilda.

"Come to me if you need anything," she said. "I may not like you Hilda, but that's not the child's fault. I won't let my husband's child need for anything, so don't let your pride get in the way of asking for it."

Hilda snorted, leaning to rest on her elbows as she rubbed her chin. "I've never had a problem with you, Gro," she said.

"Hhhmmm…" the Princess hummed, her eyes narrowing into thin slits before she jerked her head away to stare off into the flames. "There's plenty for everyone," she said. "There was a lot left over from last night, but I'll bring some more things over for you before you leave, Hilda. You're staying for the wedding, right?"

"Of course."

"Good," Gro nodded. "It'll be a good day and… we'll arrange for somewhere for you and your children to stay in town if you want to spend the rest of the winter with us."

"That's kind of you," Hilda said. "But we're fine out on the farm. It's better for the children to be out there anyway."

"Suit yourself," Gro nodded, sighing as she stood, but then she smiled at Enid. "Can you come to the longhouse first thing in the morning? There's a lot to do to set up for the wedding."

Enid opened her mouth to speak, to agree if only to ease that guilt sticking in her chest. "No," Ivar said. "She's free, Gro. She won't be helping you anymore."

Enid almost shook her head, she almost grabbed Gro's hand and told her that she would come anyway to make up for that shattered pitcher, but Gro smiled, a big, warm smile as she turned to Enid and nodded, and then she was reached a hand up, unclipping her golden necklace from around her neck and handing it to Enid.

"I'm glad," Gro smiled, taking Enid's hand and folding it around that necklace. "You deserve it, Enid. You weren't born to be a slave. Wear this around town and no one will hurt you. It was my mother's. My father brought it back from the raids in the east. It's supposed to bring good luck."

Enid felt it in her hand, felt the weight and the cold bite of the metal against her skin. Her, a poor farmer's daughter, now had a necklace that was given to a queen, that had come from strange and distant lands that she would never even see in her lifetime.

"I can't, Gro," Enid shook her head. "It's too precious."

"It's not," Gro smiled, squeezing Enid's hand. "Just wear it for now. You can always give it back if it doesn't work," she added, and Enid stared at her, not knowing what to say, wanting so desperately to give it back already, but then Frigga started crying, squirming and writhing in her cradle and Gro shook her head. "I'll get going," she said. "See you all tomorrow."

Enid didn't stay to watch Gro go as she raced for Frigga up in the loft, holding her to her chest and listening to her whimper and cry.

"Red, 'Nig."

Enid held her closer, wrapping her arms around her tightly and kissing the top of her head. "It's alright, Frigga," she said, but Frigga only cried louder, grabbing onto Enid's dress and pulling and tugging, and she cried all evening, each of them taking turns to walk with her, to bounce her in their arms and whisper softly to her.

By the time the sun went down her voice was cracked and hoarse. It came out in little bursts and whimpers as her face burned red and hot, but finally Enid was able to pry those fingers from her dress, to lay Frigga down in her cradle and listen to her soft breathing as the girl drifted off. Enid so desperately wanted to hold Frigga again, to brush back the hair from her swollen cheeks and make sure she never cried again, but she crept down from the loft instead, sighing as she slid under the furs and felt Ivar wrap his arms around her. For a long while they said nothing, for a long while he didn't even move, but then she felt those shoulders shaking and her dress going wet as he cried into her chest. So tightly she held him then, running her fingers through his braids and trying so desperately not to cry herself.

Feeling his pain was worse, worse than any other pain she had felt or any that she had even imagined, and it was worse still because she was so helpless. Enid didn't understand their gods. She didn't fully understand what the sight was or what it meant for those who had it, and she was just a poor farmer's daughter, she hadn't even been able to give a princess a night of peace, what could she possibly do to stop these strange and cruel gods from taking away this little girl?

Enid waited for him to go still, for his breathing to even out and his arms to go loose around her, and then she slid out, not stopping to put on her overdress and picking her boots up as she crept across the floorboards. She put them on when she got to the door, fumbling around with fingers that were stiff and shaking as she hooked her axe onto her belt and wrapped her cloak around her, but then she saw Hilda staring, not saying a word as she watched her from the bench and Enid went still.

"I won't be long," Enid whispered, and Hilda stared at her for a moment, her eyes unblinking before she nodded, sliding further down on the bench and pulling the fur up around her shoulders.

"I'll wait for you."