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Darkness had completely settled over the camp when next I woke. Small flecks of light began to twinkle over the horizon, so brief and unnoticeable that it was surely still the dead of night. The whole camp was silent, everyone sleeping or keeping watch, and one could hear a pin drop.
Of course, I was not stirred awake by any sunlight in the distance. I was not awoken by any glaring noise. I was awoken, instead, by the gentle sound of Ivar's voice. It was so soft, so calm, so quiet, that I barely even believed that it was him at first. But it made a wide smile grow across my face as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, noticing exactly what he was doing.
He lay further down the warm wool and furs that were currently being used as a makeshift bed, his head resting on his arm as he spoke to the small bump that had begun to grow. I tried not to move, to pretend that I was still sleeping, as I listened intently to his words.
"And that's when I met your mother," He continued on his story, a small smile as he gently touched my hand, still not noticing that I'd woken up. He seemed to be in another world, for the briefest of moments, a world that I'd never seen him in before. He seemed truly, genuinely, happy. And by the expression on his face, utterly in love. In love with our child. In love with me. My heart swooned. Every day, even if I didn't think it was possible, it seemed as though I fell deeper and deeper in love. "And she took all that pain away. She's the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to me, and now she's given me you. And I promise you that you will be born as an heir to my father's throne." He gently kissed my hand, lying back to look at the tent ceiling with a reminiscent smile. "You'll love Kattegat." He told the unborn baby, thinking back to his own youth growing up in the small town. "In the summer, my brothers would swim in the fjords and I would sit and watch them from the cliffs around Kattegat. And one day I will sit and watch you. You will be strong, I know you will. Strong like my father. And you'll be clever like me, of course. And kind like your mother."
"Not clever like their mother?" I smiled, unable to keep quiet any longer. Ivar's head shot up, blue eyes meeting mine in the darkness as an embarrassed expression grew over him - like a child that had been caught doing something wrong. Which, of course, only made my heart warm even more. "And stubborn like their father."
"I'm not stubborn." He answered, folding his arms, and I count help but chuckle at his response, gently leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.
"I wouldn't want you any other way." I told him softly, watching the familiar look of warmth - that he seemed to reserve just for me - grow in his eyes. Before either of us could say another word, the blissful moment was interrupted by a strange jolting feeling. I suppose I should've known that it was coming sooner or later, but it still took me by surprise when I finally felt it. Ivar seemed to notice my change in expression, looking at me with expectant concern as he tried to figure out what was wrong. "It's kicking." I explained, smiling slightly. It was an odd feeling, one that I couldn't quite explain, but the child was moving - that much I was sure of.
It wasn't long before both of us had moved a hand to the bump, feeling as the child began to stir and jolt around like some sort of trapeze artist. Just when I thought pregnancy wouldn't get anymore disruptive to my sleep schedule, I realised that it would only ever get worse. But I couldn't really be mad either. This was something that I had once believed I would never experience - something that not everyone will ever understand or feel. Something special. Something just between the three of us.
"It will definitely be a warrior." Ivar concluded, feeling the child smash against his hand like a battering ram.
"I'm not sure what war it's fighting right now but it certainly feels like I have just become a battlefield." I frowned, trying to get comfortable oncemore.
Ivar settled beside me again, returning to his previous position on the bed as he felt the child move with an unending look of delight. "I told you you'd be strong." He told the child calmly as I slowly began to drift back into a sleeping state.
When I woke up, I wasn't at all surprised to find Ivar gone. He'd probably not slept - sometimes I wondered if he did actually ever sleep at all - and had crawled away at dawn to start rallying everyone else in the camp. He was a different person when dawn came. It was as if, in the darkness of night, he could be himself - he could be vulnerable, afraid, human. But as soon as the sun rose, so did the walls around his heart as he forced himself into a facade of being this terrifying warrior without a heart at all. Sometimes it was exhausting, but I understood. I always understood, and continued to play the compassionate ear to listen to him whenever he needed it. I knew none of this was easy for him. He'd lost both his parents, Ubbe had betrayed him, he was sure that Hvitserk wished to do the same, and with every waking moment there was still the agony of his legs to think about.
When I left, I noted that I had once again slept through until midday. Silently, I cursed my husband for not waking me sooner but my protestation ceased when I looked across camp. Hvitserk was gone. And, in his place instead, was a stranger that I had never before met. But, by the vivid descriptions that Astrid and Harald had painted, a small part of me knew exactly who it was. Halfdan, Harald's brother.
