UPDATED JUNE 2020
**The writing is significantly better and the stories longer after the Author's note. I was on hold for a couple years and came back after quite a bit of practice writing.**
Vikings series one shots, mini stories, and imagines. A...
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Warning: mature content
Unfortunately Bjorn was right. I caught a fever on our journey home, forcing Bjorn to carry me to the great hall when we arrived back in Kattegat. I laid sick on a cot in the great hall for four nights fighting a fever, too weak to be moved back to my home. Bjorn took care of me and slept in the chair next to me the entire time, never saying a word, only helping me. When I finally got a little bit of strength, he helped me eat. He held the spoon as I struggled to find the will to finish my food. He changed my blankets and ordered the servants to keep my hair brushed and my sleeping dresses clean. He never looked frustrated or annoyed when I cried out in pain, he only helped.
Two new moons have passed since my fever broke, but I've been pushing myself as hard as I can with my training to keep the thought of almost dying from my head. I've worked on my hand to hand combat, pushing myself until near exhaustion so I don't have to lay in bed and replay the events that happened. Bjorn has checked on me a couple times, but we never spoke of his kindness towards me. We both went back to ignoring one another, just coexisting. There's a feast in the great hall tonight and Ragnar himself invited me. I'm not entirely dreading it this time. A break from myself will be nice.
I order my two hand maidens to fetch me a barrel of mead as I begin to get ready. I begin drinking, hoping I can loosen up before I'm forced to make my first formal appearance tonight, I know I will be swarmed with questions and well wishes. I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't want to think about any of it. I sigh and sit in my chair, one of my maidens begins rebraiding my hair, pulling it tightly around my head. Three glasses of mead later she's finished. I can feel the warmth of the mead coursing through my veins, lowering my anxiety. I take another sip before standing up to choose my dress. I pull on a black dress with a black leather corset, the neck of the dress dips low into my cleavage, letting it peek out. I dismiss my maids and stand by the door, mentally prepping myself. My fists clench as the image of Bjorn holding me crosses my mind. I shake the thought and leave hesitantly.
On the way to the great hall I notice big, dark clouds covering the sky. My heart races, the thought of rain sends a chill over my entire body. I hurry inside and find my place at a table in the back, trying to stay out of the crowds eye. The hall is filled with people, there's singing and drinking, food is piled on the table. I spot Queen Aslaug singing along with a group of people around the hearth. I continue to look around, hoping nobody notices me. Much to my regret, Ragnar is the first to acknowledge me.
"Siv! Siv Eriksdotter! Come here, come sit with us!" His voice booms, his eyes are clouded from the mead. I bite my lip and oblige. I see Bjorn watching me as I walk towards them, but he looks away when he's noticed I see him. I sit down and pour myself a cup of mead, drinking it quickly. I smile weakly as Ragnar puts his arm around my shoulders. "It's good to see you here tonight. I wasn't sure you'd live." I blink a few times, my mind completely blank. Ignoring what happened has made me totally unprepared to talk about it.
