You're a shieldmaiden raised by Ragnar and Aslaug, who went to the world for your raids and exploration. Now, your godfather is dead and it's time to come home to join your "brothers" and avenge him.
And maybe notice your brothers aren't the little...
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"May the gods be with you and may Hella receive you in her arms. May your soul be able to come back into this world one day, my child. And if her mercy can reach our torn hearts, may the womb of your mother be the chosen to bring you back as once you were to come for us."
My words were being whispered in my son's ears while I was filling his tiny boat with herbs and some gifts. I placed beside him a sharp and well-made knife I used to carry with me when I was a child. And covered him with the blanket his mother made for him.
With tenderness and all the pain of this world closing my throat and filling my eyes with tears, I placed my forehead against his, feeling the coldness of his skin.
"Forgive your father's foolishness, my son. But know your name will be known by your brothers and sisters. You're my first. You were loved. You were desired and waited. And I wish I could have held you in my arms at least once before the cold arms of Hella could touch your small body." my voice sounded broken and dragged this time.
I opened my eyes, kissing his forehead and placing the little boat on the water.
"I name you Eiðr¹ because you were the most beautiful promise of my life and your life came with the promise of better times and peace between the ones you leave now, my beloved child. Go. And I hope the gods allow me to see you again, my son."
My fingers softly pushed the beautiful little boat on the water and Ubbe ignited the arrow in his bow, waiting for the little boat to take some distance of the coast to shot the shining dot as a flying star that landed into my son's boat, making it shine over the dark waters.
I came back to (Y/N), feeling her fingers gripping my shirt tightly, holding her sobbing body against my chest and caressing her hair with her face hidden against my neck. Her tears wetting the cloth of my shirt as my own were sliding through my cheeks to drop on her dress.
"I want him back, Hvitserk! I want my baby back! Bring my son back to me... Tell Hella to give him back... I want my baby back..."
Her words were like rusty blades cutting my flesh to the bones, spreading the pain through my veins slowly, torturing my heart.
My eyes followed the little boat until it disappeared into the waters and so I turned my face to her, kissing her hair, hiding her in my arms as if I could feel the pain for her or protect my sweet (Y/N) from that terrible loss.
"We'll have him back, my love. We'll have him back... Don't cry, my heart. Don't cry."
I was whispering into her ears, but I knew my words were useless when they couldn't comfort my own heart.
All the camp had come to see Eiðr's funeral and one by one they left the beach until only Ivar and Ubbe left with me and (Y/N).
I sat on the sand with her body between my legs. Her torso against my chest and her face on my neck, hidden while I was shaking my body slowly, lulling her. She cried for hours before the exhaustion took her into sleepiness once again. That was all she was doing: wake up crying, beg me to bring our son back to her arms and then cry until sleep to wake up crying once again. Not even when Sigurd died I saw my (Y/N) so crushed.
