Chapter Eighty-six

Enid had to stifle that laugh building in her chest as Hilda retched again, heaving and spitting into the pail beside her and gasping. Hilda sighed, rubbing her face in the palm of her hand before she laid back down on the bench, her eyes closed and her forehead furrowing in a deep crease.

"You can't handle your drink," Ivar grumbled, eyeing Hilda with his face scrunching up in a grim scowl.

"I can!" Hilda snapped, and then she winced and wrapped her arms around her stomach. "It's my son…" she sighed then, a softness springing to her face and smile curling at the corners of her lips as she laid there. "This is the best time," she whispered. "You can just feel them there and they're so small… but they can already tell you what they like and don't like and my son doesn't like it when I drink."

Her face went tight, paling and scrunching up in a wince before she was diving for the pail again, and then Frigga came running, smiling and grabbing at her aunt like she had missed her.

"Easy, Frigga…" Hilda moaned, stopping the girl's little fingers from poking at her face. "My head hurts today."

"Mor!" Frigga laughed, tearing her finger free and poking at Hilda's cheek, and then Hilda went stiff, her eyes flicking open to stare at Frigga and the girl smiled again, laughing loudly and prodding Hilda again. "Mor, mor!"

Frigga dived, burying her face into Hilda's chest and wriggling, humming and singing to herself as she grinned and grinned, and then she laughed again, a shrill, loud laugh, as she grabbed at Hilda's stomach, pressing her face up against it and laughing before she turned her head almost like she was listening to what was inside.

"'Var!" Frigga beamed. "'Var, Hilda, mor!" she shouted, pointing a finger over the bench towards the wall. "Mmm, Helga," she smiled, pressing her face back into Hilda's stomach, and then Enid felt it, like every hair on her body was standing on end, like a chill had gripped her skin and made her body shake and tremble though her mind was slow to understand why.

"Has she been having trouble sleeping?" Hilda asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No," Ivar snapped.

"Enid?" Hilda turned, her eyes sharp and pointed and boring into Enid's skin. "Has she been having trouble sleeping?"

"Yes," Enid whispered, and then Hilda nodded, sitting up and lifting Frigga into her lap.

"Helga cry, Hilda," Frigga told her.

"My Helga or yours?" Hilda asked, but Frigga only wriggled, her face scrunching up in a wince, her hand pressing into Hilda's stomach.

"Mor, mor…" she mumbled. "Blue."

Hilda sighed, holding Frigga to her chest and staring at Ivar, her eyes sharp and shining.

"No, Hilda," Ivar shook his head. "Stop it, don't look at me like that. She's just a child. She's just making up stories."

"She's not, Ivar."

"She is!" Ivar snapped, his hands clenching into fists in his lap, his face scrunching up in a deep, dark scowl.

"Enough, Deathless!" Hilda shouted, holding Frigga closer to her chest and glaring at him. "You have to accept this, there's nothing you can do."

Enid watched as Ivar's face went slack, as he paled and hid behind his hands, his shoulders shaking and his body trembling.

"They're going to take her too," he whispered. "I can't, Hilda. I can't live through that."

"You don't know that," Hilda snapped, and then her shoulders dropped, her eyes falling to stare at Frigga's face. "I took Helga's strength, we all know that… but Frigga was born alone and she's strong and healthy, Ivar. Who knows what her fate will be."

It was seeing Ivar so broken, those tears she saw streaming out from under those hands and dripping down to his shirt that chilled Enid then. They had her standing there still and stiff, her hand clutching at her dress and her heart racing, and finally she tore her eyes away from Ivar, staring at Hilda, unable to look at the girl in her arms.

"What's wrong?" Enid whispered, and Hilda sighed, her eyes closing for a moment before she shook her head.

"Nothing's wrong, Enid," she said. "Frigga has the sight."

"She doesn't!" Ivar snapped, his hands falling from his face as he glared at Hilda.

"She does, Ivar. Helga was the same. It started when she was Frigga's age too."

Enid felt the earth shift out from under her then, her knees buckling and her body swaying as she tried to stay standing. "The sight?" she whispered, and then her chest burned.

Was Little Frigga going to die young just like Helga? Was she going to have to live on some small farm outside of the village just so she could live in peace? Peace? Was she going to spend her whole life waiting to die just like Erik had said? Erik! Erik had known, he'd kept it from Enid all this time, only giving her bits and pieces and never the whole truth, a truth that had not been his to share.

Enid stared at Frigga then, not knowing whom she was angry at, only knowing that she was and that she wanted to shout and scream, to stab and slice and ease that fire building in her chest. No, their false gods couldn't take her, they couldn't make her live a half-life with one eye always fixed on the end and the other drowning in their visions.

"Is Helga here now?" Hilda asked, and Frigga stared up at her, her eyes bright and shining, her lips spread in a big smile. "Is… is your mother here, Frigga?"

"Mor!" Frigga grinned, pointing over Hilda's shoulder and Hilda nodded, her face scrunching up in a wince and her eyes going dull and soft.

"She'll help you," Hilda whispered, "And she'll speak to the gods on your behalf, don't worry. I know it here," she held her hand to her stomach. "She loves you, Frigga. She died so she could give life to you, don't forget that. She'll help you… she'll protect you."