Chapter Sixty-three

"Fish," Enid said, pointing at a basket of fish in the small kitchen. "Knife," she said, throwing her own up in the air and catching it by the hilt. "Tyr… Frigga!" she shouted, picking the girl up from Ivar's lap and twirling her in the air and Frigga laughed, kicking her legs out, her cheeks going pink.

"More 'Nig!" she said, and Enid laughed, spinning the girl one more time before she sat her down on the edge of the table, Frigga's chest heaving, her little fingers poking at Enid's cheeks, her little feet tapping at her chest. "Again!"

"I'm tired, Frigga," Enid sighed. "It's been a long day. Go play with your sister," she said, and Frigga turned, staring at Freya from across the table and smiling.

"She understands you more than we do," Erik sighed.

"Of course, she does," Enid smiled.

"You're not a very good teacher, Enid…" Tyr mumbled, folding his arms across his chest and Enid hit his arm, shoving him lightly until he turned to her and smiled, but then Frigga broke loose, crawling across the table and sitting in front of Erik, staring at him, her eyes unblinking, her face suddenly blank and slack.

"Red," she said, reaching a finger out to poke at his forehead and Erik tilted his head as he watched her, not saying a word as he leaned forward and she poked at him again.

"What do you see, little one?" he asked, and Frigga laughed, a shrill, light laugh that went on and on as she lifted her hands in the air.

"'Reya!" she shouted, as she smiled at her sister, and then she climbed into Erik's lap, taking her time to turn around and smile at the others as if she had accomplished something great.

"Sorry, Erik," Enid said, moving to reach for Frigga. "I don't know what's gotten into her today," she shook her head, but Erik held his hand out, tilting his chair on it's back legs to make Frigga laugh again.

"It's alright," he said, his eyes fixed on the top of the girl's head. "It's good practice. Maybe I'll have one of my own soon…"

He reached a finger up, trailing along the bridge of her nose all the way down to the tip and Frigga sighed, her eyes closing only to flick open again when he trailed it back up, and Enid watched the girl slipping, those eyes flicking open and closed with that finger and she knew it wouldn't be long now.

"Don't let her sleep, Erik. She won't go down tonight," she said, and Erik laughed softly, his eyes still watching the top of Frigga's head, his feet still making that chair rock back and forth.

"That's not my problem," he smiled. "And she won't let me stop now."

"I've heard rumours about you," Freya said, her voice suddenly sharp as she stared at Erik.

"You have?" Erik asked, and Enid expected to see that colour rise to Freya's cheeks and for her to lose herself to her feelings as Enid had watched her do time and time again, but Freya's face stayed stiff, her lips drawn into a tight, thin line as she studied Erik.

"I heard you have the sight," she said, and Erik laughed, both of his hands coming up to rest behind his head as Frigga slept.

"That's an old one," he said.

"Is it true?"

"What do you think, Freya?" he asked, and then Enid saw a trace of it, those cheeks growing pink before Freya gritted her teeth and folded her arms across her chest.

"I think it's better to ask," she said, and that smile on Erik's face turned into a grin as he laughed then, shaking his head and rocking his chair.

"I don't," he said, his eyes flicking to look at her. "I just pay attention, just like your father. Some people misunderstand that," he shrugged. "I heard your mother had it though. Some of the women still talk about her around here. They say they would have to come while Ivar was out raiding or he'd chase them away."

Enid watched as Ivar sat back in his chair, his arms folding across his chest as he tutted and for a moment she was almost sad and all she saw was his pain, but then she saw him, running down that path with his axe across his shoulders and those village women running and screaming, so she laughed, lifting her hand to cover her mouth as her cheeks grew warm.

"You didn't, did you Ivar?" Enid asked.

"What if I did…?"

"Oh!" Enid laughed again, this time tears springing to her eyes, this time her hand clutching at her side. "Those poor women!"

Ivar grunted again, sweeping her ankles with his foot until she was falling, her hands reaching out for those arms, her back landing in his lap and for a short moment she could only stare up at him with her eyes big and wide and her cheeks on fire, and then she laughed again, covering her mouth with her palm to try to stifle the sound.

"Ivar the Deathless," she gasped. "Fighter of fierce village women and their spindles!"

Ivar reached a hand out, covering her face and warming her skin, but when he let her go he was laughing too, that smile on his lips soft, his eyes somewhat distant and hazy.

"Helga didn't like them either," he said. "I wouldn't have minded otherwise, but they were wrong," he said, his eyes flicking to stare at Erik. "My wife wasn't a Seer. The gods sometimes showed her things, that's true, but she couldn't speak to them."

"What kind of things would she see?" Erik asked, and Ivar shrugged.

"It's hard to say," he said. "Sometimes she didn't understand herself until it'd had already happened."

"The past?"

"No," Ivar answered. "Only the future."

"So she wasn't a Seer," Erik nodded, his eyes staring out somewhere behind Ivar without blinking. "We have one here in town now, but I don't trust him. I only hear Loki in his prophecies."

"How can you keep talking like that?" Freya snapped, her hand slamming down on the table, and Enid sat up then, her eyes big and wide as she watched the girl glaring at Erik and she watched that smile vanish from Erik's lips, watched him tilt his head to the side and stare back at Freya.

"What do-?" he started.

"You either have the sight or you don't," Freya cut in, and it took him a moment to fix that smile back on his lips, to rock his chair backwards and to laugh softly.

"That's fair," he nodded. "I don't, Freya, but I think that I see and hear things that other people don't."

"So you do."

"No," he shook his head, that light in his eyes suddenly going sharp and dark. "I only see the present and sometimes a hint of the future. What kind of sight is that?"

Freya stared at him, her eyes narrowing into slits, her lips closing in a thin, tight light, but finally she sighed, folding her arms across her chest and jerking her head away.

"Not a very good one," she tutted.