Blessed by the Gods

Arrival

Rain patterned upon the carriages as they rolled through the land. The horses' hooves picked up dirt and threw it through the air against the legs of the men that followed the carriages by foot.

Leading the train of people, Ragnar rode his horse, guiding them through the woods and over a broad clearing, past farmers' properties up to Myrhult, and the house of the king, Valtar. There, before the house, he jumped off the horse and held out his hand for Queen Aslaug, his wife, to climb off the carriage. Followed by Floki, who carried Ivar on his back, and Hvitserk, holding packed ham as present for king Valtar, the queen entered the great hall of the king's house.

Cheering, the people stepped aside and the king appeared from another room to greet them all. "King Ragnar, welcome to my home. I see the rain has washed off your smiles" He gestured to the fireplace in the middle of the room and demanded chairs for the tired guests. "Please warm yourself and gather strength, for we will celebrate our alliance"

Ivar sat upon a tall chair, a bowl of hot soup in hand, when a shadow caught his eye. Lingering in the dark, covered by curtains that separated the next room from the hall, stood a girl, the face covered by long strands of thick golden locks, and a silver strand, braided and worn over her head like a small crown. He smiled at her, but instead of acknowledging him, her face vanished into the safe darkness of the second room.

King Valtar, who had noticed Ivar's interest, halted his conversation with Ragnar, and grinned. "She will not come out, if you gaze at her"

"What?" Ivar's head shot in direction of the King, but from the corner of his eye he hoped to glance at the girl once more.

With a clap of his hands, King Valtar gestured to the curtain from which the girl had vanished. "King Ragnar, Queen Aslaug. We spoke of an alliance through the marriage of your son, Ivar, and my daughter, Rùna. I must tell you that she is more extraordinary than any story you might have heard, but-"

A beautiful woman, tall, her thin silhouette covered in a blue dress that hidden under layers of warm pelt, shimmered in the light of the flames, drew all attention to her. "What my husband wants you to know is that we want to find her a husband that can control her and protect her,-" She had a seat next to the King, who smiled as she spoke and watched her lips with every word that flew over them. "-a man, who will consider her his own and love her like I love my husband"

"So when do we get to see her?" Hvitserk swallowed his soup and placed the bowl on the table next to him, eyeing one of the slaves that removed the bowl and brought a goblet of water.

All eyes turned to the curtain that had moved and with a swish, rolled to the side, revealing a young girl behind it. Her skin cold and pale with silver lines like veins, leading from her head over her right shoulder to her hand, wrapping around her skin like a sleeve of lace, the beautiful pattern of the lightning-like lines shimmering in the flames of the fire. She stepped into the hall, guided by a slave that whispered to her as she walked, not loud enough for others to understand, but Ivar could have sworn to have heard her tell the princess how many steps to walk forward and when to turn.

In the middle of the hall, close to the warming fire, she stopped in her way, bowed her head towards King Ragnar and Queen Aslaug and turned to Ivar, who had dropped his bowl of soup onto the ground at the sight of her.

The white eyes, blue shine in them, gazed upon him, or through him as he believed her to read his mind, and a smirk rolled onto his lips, but the princess did not return the expression, neither did she speak. Her welcoming to the King and Queen finished, she turned around and left the room, followed by the Queen, who with an apologetic nod, rose from her chair and hurried after the princess.