Chapter Forty

"This must be her old stuff from raiding!" Freya said, holding up a pair of thick trousers and Enid looked at them, seeing those stitches along the front and back and knowing they were from repairs.

Just how many blades had Hilda survived wearing them? Suddenly Enid wanted to find out. Suddenly she wanted to wear them too, so she took them in her hands, running the fabric under her fingers and wanting to try them on.

"They'd look good on you, Enid. You should take them," Freya nodded, but Enid couldn't.

There was just something too strange, too odd about dressing like a man. So deeply she thought on it, her body frozen stiff, unable to put those trousers on, unable to let them go. It was silly, Enid knew that, she already fought and trained like a man and no one treated her differently. She knew that nothing had changed even though she had worn nothing in front of them. So why did she hesitate now?

"Oh, look at this!" Freya said, lifting a dark blue dress out from the pile. "There must be… Look there it is," she said, pulling out a thinner light blue dress with long sleeves. "See, you put this one on first and then the dark one goes on top. See the straps here. I can't believe she doesn't wear this one, there's nothing wrong with it."

Enid looked at it then, trailing her fingers along the pattern of stitches on the edges and smiling. "You should take it," Enid said.

"It's too big," Freya sighed, her eyes lingering on it and then she held it out. "And besides, you have to take this one."

Enid laughed. "I do?"

"Yes," Freya nodded. "If you don't, I'll just end up stealing and giving it to you later."

Enid held it then, looking down at the top dress and the small brass shields at the bottom of each strap as she smiling. She couldn't help it, just to look at it made her head lighter and her heart race.

"Come on," Freya said, pulling at Enid's arms to make her stand up.

"Alright, alright…" Enid laughed, and then she was slipping on that underdress, feeling it brush and flow against her legs, already so much softer, already so much thicker than the thin summer dress she'd been wearing before.

Freya pulled the top dress over Enid's head, helping and guiding her arms through the straps and twisting it until it was straight and when Enid looked at her again, she was smiling, her hands on her hips and her eyes bright and light.

"We have to get you a new cloak too," Freya nodded.

"My one is fine."

"Hmmm," Freya waved her hand in the air before diving for the chest again. "Ivar can afford it. Take the raiding gear too, you might need it."

Enid stared at those trousers on the floor, wanting so desperately to pick them up and keep them. "No," she said. "Hilda only said to take what I need and I don't need them."

"But you might."

"But I don't know that for sure," Enid shook her head. "Leave it, Freya, I'm lucky she's letting me take anything at all."

Freya stared up at her then, her forehead lining in a deep crease, those sky-blue eyes so cold and dark Enid almost found herself laughing.

"Fine," Freya sighed. "But you shouldn't be so afraid of my aunt. She likes you."

"She does?" Enid gasped, and Freya laughed then, folding up the clothes they weren't taking and putting them back into the chest.

"You're alive, aren't you?" she said, but Enid sighed, not sure if that was all she needed to hear to find the answer, unhappy to press it further, and then Freya snorted, coming to stand in front of Enid and grabbing one of her arms. She tied that sleeve tight with a thin leather strap, wrapping in around her arm until the bottom of the sleeve was no longer loose. "There," she said when she was done with the other. "Now you can still fight, at least."

Enid held out her arms, swinging one like she would with her axe and smiling, but that smile disappeared when she looked down at her old clothes, stained with deep, dark patches of blood and torn in too many places. How long had she worn nothing else? How far had they travelled with her?

For a moment she couldn't let them go, knowing they were the last things she had from her father, from her life before coming here, and yet, all they did was mark her out as a slave. Everyone who looked at them would know that they weren't from here. Everyone would know that no free woman would wear something so tattered and worn, so Enid picked them up, finding herself hating more than loving them and tossing them into a basket of rags, and then they heard Ivar shouting outside.

"I said, put me on the patrols, Thor."

Thor stared up at Ivar, his eyes unflinching though Ivar was more than two heads taller than him. "Hilda said you should rest," he said.

"Put me-,"

"You can barely stand up!" Freya snapped, as she barged through the door. "Don't be an idiot and get back in the barn."

Ivar glared at her, his jaw clenching and those eyes turning dark, but Freya didn't move. She only stood there, glaring at him back, her chest heaving and her eyes shining bright, and then Enid saw it, how close Freya actually was to tears.

"Ivar…" Enid sighed, stepping out to wrap her arm around Freya's shoulder. "It's too soon and you know it. You'd only get in their way."

Ivar turned to Enid, his face scrunching up in a fierce scowl before it suddenly melted, his eyes darting between their faces and landing on her dress, and then he tutted, storming back off to the barn and muttering something to himself, but Freya chased after him, knocking Thor out of the way and shouting, "Are you trying to die?!"

Ivar waved his hand towards her, not stopping to turn around until he reached his seat outside the barn.

"Answer me!" Freya snapped.

"Enough, Freya…" Ivar huffed, sitting down on his seat and rolling his eyes.

"Answer me!" Freya screamed, hitting him in the chest and making him groan.

"Freya!" Enid gasped, coming to pull the girl away from him and trying to hold her to her chest, but Freya jerked herself free, glaring at Ivar and clenching her fists.

"You're so selfish, Ivar!"

"Selfish?" he snapped. "I'm trying to protect you!"

"Then stop acting like an idiot!"

"Careful, Freya," he warned, pointing his finger at her. "And why did you pick that one?" he asked, turning that finger to Enid.

For a moment there was nothing but silence, for a moment Freya didn't even move before she turned her head and looked at Enid's dress.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Agghhh…" Ivar waved his hand again, standing and disappearing into the barn.

"Come back here, Ivar!" Freya shouted.

"Freya, enough," Enid sighed. "He's back in the barn and he's not going on patrol. Just go back to the house, hmmm?" she said, cupping Freya's cheeks in her hands. "Try to get some sleep tonight, alright?"

Freya jerked her head free, glaring at the door to the barn and mumbling something under her breath, and then she dived for Enid's chest, holding her tightly and saying, "You look perfect, Enid. Don't listen to him."

Enid laughed, running her hand through Freya's braids and rubbing her shoulders. "Of course, I do. You were the one who chose it, right? Now go get some sleep."

Freya sighed, nodding and heading back to the house and Enid watched her a moment, hoping she'd feel better in the morning, hoping Ivar would feel better much sooner and not make her night more difficult. She stared at him when she came through the door, leaning against it before she sighed and slid it shut, seeing him lying there, glaring up at the ceiling and twirling a piece of hay between his fingers.

"You can't talk to her like that, Ivar," Enid said, standing over him and folding her arms across her chest.

"She's my child, Enid."

"Yes, she is and she's worried about you, Ivar, don't you see that?"

He glared at her a long while, twirling that hay in his fingers before he tutted and turned his head away. "Of course, I do."

Enid sighed again, coming to sit beside him and resting her head on her knees. "You said it yourself, they're not going to be children for much longer, especially not Freya. You have to explain things to her and not keep them to yourself or she'll never understand what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything, Enid."

"Really?" she asked. "So you didn't know those men were coming yesterday?"

He turned his head then, staring at her from the corner of his eye before he sighed. "No," he said. "I went out scouting, that's true, but… I didn't know they'd be there. There were no men on Jarl Sigurd's land, not enough anyway, so I wanted to check."

Enid watched him, not sure if he was lying, wanting so desperately to believe him, and then she reached a foot out, kicking her heel into his leg and asking, "Why didn't you just say so?"

His face went dark, scrunching up in a fierce scowl as he sat up and glared at her and for a moment she thought he'd strike. She glared back at him, clenching her fists, and then he reached for the fur, pulling it up over the both of them and laid back down.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she tutted, and he sighed, reaching an arm up to lie in the crook of his arm before he winced and grunted.

"It just doesn't," he said. "Things are going to be difficult for a while now," he added, and Enid laid down, turning on her side so that she could watch him closely, hoping he'd explain himself. A while later and he studied her from the corner of his eye and let out a big, long sigh. "Just get some sleep, Enid."