Waging War Against the Heavens (Alvis and xanaphia)

As Althaea used her healing on Yrsa, she took note of the discomfort and even outright fear in the eyes of the men around her. That was not the reaction she expected. It was a magnified version of the one she perceived in Thorkell’s eyes as he noted she was no longer injured.

“I’m sorry for healing her. I forgot your people seek out death, so you can join in the war of your ancestors. It won’t happen again,” Althaea remarked, intending to come off feisty, but perhaps appearing a touch haughty. She turned to face the Jarl as he spoke, denigrating her as he remarked on her gifts. He seemed to have a gift for such things.

“Jarl, before I was a prisoner, a captive to your people. Is it so surprising that I did only what was necessary to preserve my life? Now that I am a true member of this band, and have a stake in your conquests, surely I should devote all my gifts to its success? As Thorkell explained yesterday, I did indeed vow to bring glory to the band. “

“As for my own healing, I can take no credit for that. It was the will of Athena. If you object to it, I suggest you take it up with her. But you are a smart man, surely you can figure out how my gift can help the band. Unless you agree that I am getting in the way of your people getting into Vahalla.”

There was a moment of silence, of almost disbelief at Althaea's words, even THorkell had his head cocked to the side. The jarl was silent a moment.
"You may speak some truths Seer, but do not for a moment assume you understand our people. You do not know what it is like to carry Valhalla with you. You cannot know what it is to bear that weight. We do not seek our gloy for it's own sake. We seek to be the greatest that we can, because we must be the greatest. If we fail, then the world burns at the end times. We have spoken to your people about their own beliefs. The worst that might come if you fail in your fated tasks is a personal duration of torture. But do not pretend that you cna understand what we are." The Jarl said with a calm, collected edge that made it clear that he was not looking to speak on the subject further. He turned from her, and made his way back to his throne, sitting down, and lounging on it once more.

"Thorkell, make sure the newest member of the band is suitably prepared for the next excursion that we make." The Jarl said idly. Thorkell nodded.
"Aye Jarl. I will see it done." Thorkell answered.

Thorkell waited until they'd found food, drink, and left he hall before he began to speak again to Althaea.
"You are one of the band now. And that means you are expected to know how to handle yourself in a fight. As you swore the oath to me while I was leader of hte raid, it is upon me to ensure that you are prepared by training and by equipment. Tell me Althaea, how well can you control your visions? You knew to block arrows. Could you do something similar with blows up close?" He asked her.

Althaea stiffened as the Jarl reprimanded her. Sher expected as much, given her attitude, his words were hurtful. As if she didn’t know a thing or two about carrying burdens from the Gods. The difference being her burden A reminder that even though she was a member of the band now, she still wasn’t one of them. She would never be one of them. The Jarl’s words, combined with the wary look on the faces of the men made her feel isolated and alone. So She took solace in food and drink pushing the discomfort away.

After she had finished breaking her fast,Tthorkell spoke to her, asking if she could control her visions. “That last campaign was my first time in battle. It seems that I am able to call upon them in the heat of battle,” Althaea explained, coming to the same conclusion he had. She followed him for a bit in silence, before she thought to ask, “Does these mean I will be require to fight and kill my countrymen, instead of merely using my gifts to aid your conquests?”

She wasn’t sure if it made enough to difference to fret. As it was, her visions had caused many a Greek death, and would only lead to more as long as she assisted the Vikings. But could she really kill a man? Perhaps if it was to save her own life, but not in the name of glory and plunder. And yet she had sworn an oath to bring glory to the band. Would her oath require her to bloody her hands?

“Is there no way I could use only my sight and my healing to serve the band? I am not trying to get out of my oath, just trying to assist in the ways that make best use of my talents.” She insisted, hoping he would see reason. She was not opposed to learning how to fight, indeed, she wanted to learn. But she didn’t want to fight against Athens.

Thorkell heard her out, knowing that she wasn't wrong. It might take forever to actually turn her into a fighter, adn while she might have spirit, she didn't have a warrior's heart. A life taker she was not.
"Your countrymen might not give you the choice in the matter Althaea. You'll be out with us again, several more times most likely. And they will try and stop us, they will fight us, and if they can, they will kill you. Learn what we offer. I'll not ask you to stand in the shield wall, you've not the weight for it. You're more likely to spend time with the likes of Yrsa on the field. Moving fast, and staying out of trouble when possible. I will not ask you to reach beyond your capabilities." Thorkell offered.

Thorkell also knew that he was likely going to have to get help in training her. He wqas a bruiser and powerhouse of a fighter. There was only so much that he could teach her beyond the basics. Someone closer to her build would have to fill in the rest. Yrsa would likely do it for curing the wound ot her face. There was one other in the Shield Maidens that might be worth asking, Thorkell knowing that she had experience in training outsiders to stay alive. But first he would need a few other things.
"Come with me Althaea. There is something else that is required for you." He led her back towards the smithy.

The crash of hammer on anvil filled the air, much more so than before. The full team of people skilled in the craft were working to recover from the raid, mending armour and damaged weapons. Thorkell nodded to the head smith, a bear of a man dressed in only breeches and a leather work apron. Thorkell dropped a small purse of coin near the anvil, and the smith nodded, waving him away without words.

Thorkell found what he needed quickly. A few of the bronze guards for the forearms and legs that had been taken from the dead Greeks, useful to augment Althaea protection. He found a good sword, one that was suited for someone her size, before he caught sight of the biggest item that he needed. The shield taken from the temple, but not as it once was. While the Athenian symbol was still on it with silver inlay, there was also a golden sword, tip pointing to the top of the shield. Not yet finished to most, Thorkell knew that the colour and the position of the sword denoted a devotion to Sif. This would have likely been used as a gift to a shield maiden some day, but there was a better person to bear it right now. He lifted the shield, adn turned to Althaea, offering the shield. He didn't speak, trusting that the shield in and of itself would speak for his him.

Althaea found she agreed with Thorkell, for the most of what he said. Being in the fray did put her life at risk, and being able to defend herself at least would help keep her alive longer. She couldn’t very well depend on Thorkell for the rest of her life.

“Aye, that’s fair,” she agreed, feeling more at ease around him, appreciating that they were beginning to understand each other. “I should learn to fight, the basics at least.” Thorkell lead her along, back to the smithy once more. She stood by dutifully, letting Thorkell fit pieces to her. Trying to avoid making eye contact with, still fighting her duties to Athena and her base desires. Thorkell was focused on his work, which helped some, as he handed back a sword for her. She held it in her grip, getting a feel for it’s weight.

Next was a shield a shield she recognized. A shield from the temple, taken in the same raid that took her. It had been worked on already, the engraved dedication to Athena already removed. Still, the symbols of her Goddess were present, and she traced them with her finger. This gift was bittersweet, reminding her of her capture at his hands. And yet the dual loyalties on the face of it spoke to her, particularly her present situation. Pledged to both Athena, and the band.

“This golden sword, it’s the symbol of one of your God’s, isn’t it?” She asked him, meeting his eyes. “Is it…Sif? Some of the shield maidens told me about her. That she was seer, before she became Thor’s wife, and a Goddess in her own right.” It was fitting, in that way for her to carry this shield, symbolizing the duality of her allegiance.

“It occurs to me,” She began as they walked towards the training grounds together, “Were you named for Thor? He is popular among warriors, isn’t he?”

Thorkell had to suppress a smile at asking after Sif. Something of a tale amongst his people, some found it inspiring, some founnd it strange, but there were few that did not know it.
"Sif...yes, her colour is gold, and her symbol the raised and readied sword. Most would take being loved by a God, chosen to ascend to join him to be the highest point in one's life. Sif was not such a person. She woudl not be anything less than THor's equal. A goddess of her own right, she knew she could not match his strength. But she became a Goddess known for her skill. Her...excellence in battle. She is the chosen patron of many shield maidens, and often even amongst the men who are not possessed of great strength, but will still not be denied a place in the battle lines because they know their skills better than others." He explained.

There was a pause in his speech as she asked if he had been named for the God. He gave a slow nod.
"Aye, I suppose I was. I am hardly alone in that, there are many of hte band that bear a name inspired by the thunderer. Other leaders of warriors amongst us bear a name so inspired. The self-proclaimed king, Thorsson Ironhammer, is another. One of the shield maidens here, Gerda, served in his warband for some years before leaving. Myself, my name holds the meaning of 'Helm of the Thunderer'. My mother chose it for me before...her afflictions overcame her judgement. But if I am to live up to my name, there is yet glory for me to win before I can be admitted to the halls as the guard of the thuderer." He admit with a smile. He may never live up to his namesake, but that was no excuse not to make an honest attempt. The impossible was what his people lived for, and he would reach for it as long as he could, until he felt his fingers brush it or the Gods threw him down.

Althaea noted a bit of tension in his eyes as he spoke of his mother. She was tempted to inquire further, but decided against it. They were still getting to know one another, and the level of intimacy may have been uncomfortable for him. Just because he had seen her in her most vulnerable didn’t mean he was ready to share that with her.

Still, his features lit up as he spoke of his namesake, and took pride in trying to fulfill his destiny. He was most attractive like this, speaking of his passions, and it made her heart flutter. More than that, it made her stomach coil and tighten in a way she could not articulate, in her language or his. It was an interesting sensation, not entirely comfortable or discomforting.

She pushed the lingering thought from her mid, as it was time to begin her lesson in defense. And as alluring as Thorkell was becoming to her, she really did have to focus. It was unlikely, but she didn’t want to impress him.

They spent some time testing her ability to foresee attacks, and defend herself accordingly. As Thorkell had surmised based on her actions on the raid, she was indeed able to use her sight to defend herself. They practiced for a time, him striking at her with soft blows, just to test her reflexes. Even as he sped up his strikes, to the point he was attacking as quickly as he might in battle (though no where nearly as strongly) she was able to defend her, lifting the shield in the right place each time. However, despite blocking his attacks, and his own restraint, she was knocked back with each blow.

As it seemed, the ability to perceive where the blow would go was not enough when the strength of the blow was high. And it made sense, given that Thorkell’s axe was quite heavy, and she had very little strength to speak of. It didn’t even take long for her to get winded, her arms burning in ache as she tried to continue to hold up her shield. She would have to build up some strength if she was to be of any use to anyone, on the battlefield atleast. But that was the sort of thing that could only come with time and effort. And she certainly had time now, she just had to put in the effort.

After he showed her some very basic moves with the sword, and instructed her on where to strike for maximum damage. In the next few days a shield maiden would take over her train, to teach her the intricacy of their form, but she needed a basic understanding of how to hold her weapon, how to stand and position herself.

She was dead tired after a few hours, hardly even able to hold up her sword or shield by the end of it. Thorkell looked no worse for wear, just glistening with a light layer of sweat that seemed to further inflame that tightness in her gut. She was drenched, her blonde hair sticking to her face and neck in clumps.

“Tell me, Thorkell, do your people have access to water for bathing here? Now that I am a member of the band, is it possible for me to get a bath, every now and then? I have to admit, I had gotten used to such luxuries at the temple, able to indulge two to three times a week.”

The testing went as well as Thorkell could have hoped. The life Althaea had led did not much led her to this kind of work. But if she was able to predict blows as they came, she was already much farther ahead than most. Strength was a simpler concern to address. The Shield Maidens would help her learn to not simply block a strike, but to turn the blows, dissipate some of the force rather than absorbing it directly. Thorkell himself knew something of the technique, but his size and muscle had always lent itself to being able to simply absorb each blow. Still, a little more training, adn maybe a little more weight of muscle on her frame, and Althaea would not be an embarrassment to the band.

When they were done, Thorkell had to smile at her posture now. Worn, ragged, and about to fall. But she was still on her feet, and that was impressive enough in and of itself to him. Force of will alone was likely keeping her going, and that was worth something. He thoughth about her request. While his people had specific times and days to bathe in accordance with their Gods, Althaea was still Greek, not yet beholden to their rules yet. And there was certainly a way to do this.
"My people have no need of places for such. The water of the rivers and seas are enough for us." He said firmly. But then he cracked a faint smile. "But this place was not built by my people, and your people seem to place some importance on such. Come."

THorkell led Althaea through the compound, around the temple buildings, and to the back of the island. There was a set of carved steps that led intot he stone of the island. There was a great deal of heat coming from it, as well as no small amount of steam. Still THorkell descended without hesitation, until they reached the bottom of the steps. The heat would have been sweltering, but from within a person could see several shafts bored through the stone, not wide, but enough to allow air to escape, lettign the temperature stay steady and within the range of comfort. The area within was laid out with stone benches, all of around a carved pool of water that bubbled and steamed. Even in the far north they knew what this meant.
"It seems that a hot spring was found here, and the temple established it for their use. Would this be more what you were thinking?" He asked Althaea.

“Truthfully, I could make due with a stream or river. Even the ocean, if it’s all that is available,” Althaea explained, following behind Thorkell, not wanting to come off indulgent. “All I really require is the slightest degree of privacy. Even just a basin to carry the water in would be sufficient, and I could bathe in the room you offered me.” But what he showed her was far greater than a simple stream. An entire room, built into the ground, dedicated to bathing. Steamy water, bubbling up from the earth in a luxurious carved pool.

“This is…amazing. Why don’t your people make use of this?” she asked, sitting on a bench to remove her sandals. She dipped a toe in the waters and released a pleased exhaled. Yes, it was perfect. Hot enough to relax and soothe her over worked muscles, without overheating her at all. “Is it too hot for your northern sensibilities?” She called back, teasing him ever so slightly. Whatever their reason, she was glad to have this place to herself. It would be difficult to relax if she were exposed to other people.

Whether he left her alone, or merely turned to give her privacy, she slipped out of her dress, folding it neatly on a bench and then submerging herself in the heated waters. Goddess, it felt good. Just what she needed after training with Thorkell for much of the day. She had pushed herself hard, and surely he could see that. She still wasn’t sure she would ever be a warrior, least of all, a warrior by his standards, but she would make an honest effort, for all the trouble he had gone through protecting her thus far. Or did she want to impress him? The thought had her blushing, her cheeks burning as red as her skin caressed by the hot spring.

She had cleansed herself of the sweat and dirt by now, lingering as she ache melted off her body. There wasn’t a concern that he would watch her. Why, she couldn’t exactly say. He had plenty of opportunities to see her, if he had a mind to. There wasn’t anything she could even do to stop him. Artemis turned a man into a stag for watching her bath, and had him ripped to shreds by her dogs. But she was not a goddess. Nor a witch, despite what his people might have thought of her after this morning. Besides, perhaps she didn’t mind so much, if it were him watching her.

Still, she didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity, or patience, so she got out of the pool and dressed, braiding her hair while it was still wet so it wouldn’t tangle much.

“Thank you. I needed that.”

Thorkell had to smile at her question, the practical side of it, and the teasing comment.
"We do make use of it, some of us. We bathe on the right days, Wash Day is the end of the week, and many of us make use of this chamber. Back home, in the North, such hot springs are common enough. Something like this can be a...touch of the homeland." He explained to her. As he knew that she'd be looking to disrobe, Thorkell turned to watch the entrance to teh cavern. It was a mold, modest gesture, but one tht he felt was worth making. She was not a slave to him now, not a prize. And while he may not have hesitated in taking a galnce at any of the Shield Maidens, they were also comrades of the felag to him, and that carried different connotations to his mind. Althaea may be sworn to them, but she was still too new to him for such familiarity.

He could hear her entering the waters, knew she'd been taking the day of training off of herself, bringing her to what might likely be the cleanest he'd ever seen her. He'd be making his own trip to the baths on the morrow, but until then he would content himself with keeping her safe. There was the moment of thought that made him wonder precisely who was going to kjeep her safe from him, since he knew in the heart of himself, he was a man of fierce passions and drives, and having Althaea so close to him would have to bear some kind of result sooner or later. When he heard the sounds of her emerging from the waters, he waited for the rustle of cloth to finish before he turned back to her, seeing her scrubbed clean, braiding her hair. It was a slightly different style of braid than his people used, and he had to correct himself. It was different than the braids used by the warriors of his people. He hadn't paid much attention to the women back home that did not sail ont he dragon ships like himself, or at least to their hair.

"You are welcome Althaea. Come, we should return. The heat is beginning to get to me." He admit, shifting beneath the gear that he wore. He led her back out into the fading light of the day. From the high point of the bluff, there was a near perfect view of the sun descending down the horizon, stainign the sky and water a golden tinged red that even a hardened warrior like THorkell ahd to admit looked positively divine.

Althea took her place beside Thorkell and watched the setting sun. A mosaic of pinks and golds, blending into a deep purple as night set into the sky. Reflecting off the waves and glittering in the surf, it was truly an enchanting sight. A sight she might not have seen had she remained at the temple. The realization soured her a bit. She still wasn't entirely convinced that Thorkell's carrying her from the temple was the liberation he claimed it was. She may have been growing fond of the man, but she wouldn't easily forget how it was she came to be here, with him.

Instead of dwelling on the past, however, she turned her thoughts to the future. "You said before that your people have explored much, since leaving your homeland. Where else had you been, before you came here?"she may have been encouraging him to open up, but in truth the question was selfish. She just loved the ways his eyes lit up as he spoke of his exploits. He was rather handsome like that, and it made her heart flutter.

It was a dangerous game she played, letting herself get wrapped up in her feelings for him. Letting them deepen and grow. But she wanted the distraction that Thorkell presented. Perhaps he was reason enough to pledge her life and service to the Vikings.

"Where do your people plan to trave next, once they fix their ships?"

Thorkell allowed himself a smile as she asked after his travels. He was well travelled, even for one of his peopel who were famed much of the world over for their wanderlust.
"I have been nearly everywhere on this world that sea meets land. Gaul, the Briton Isles, all the way down to see the bones of Rome, the remains after her fall. Oh, the things in this world Althaea, if you could see. While Rome may be fallen, there are still marvels left behind of their work. Great works, things that my people, for all our cunning and innovation, could not even conceive. And yet these men built them. Structures higher that any this land has ever seen, great paths of stone that carry water from the rivers to the farthest corners of the city. And the Great Arena that could hold nearly every soul in your city within. When I saw such a thing Althaea...those who made that, they ahd found immortality, for their names will never be forgotten, and even if they are, their works will endure for all time."

He sighed, closing his eyes a moment. When he opened them, he looked out at the sky again, taking in the riot of colour. It was different here. Despite all that they were gaining, Thorkell did have to acknowledge the truth about where they would go if they ever got their damned ships repaired.
"When the ships have been repaired, and all is made ready, we are going home. We've been in these lands for too long." He hesitated to speak more. There was a word for what was coming onto him, heimthra, a sickness of the heart, the longing for home. It was a weakness, a dangerous one to indulge. Such longings had unmanned many over the years, and it was looked at as something that needed to be avoided. But here it was, and Althaea was not of his people. It was doubtful that she would judge him harshly. "I miss the crisp air of the mountains. The scent of mead. The fish we pulled straight fro the cold waters. The lights in the heavens, writhing through the sky. This land is not so bad as many I have been too. But it would be good to reach a place where the coin we have gathered might actually be spent. A place that did not fear us so much that we cannot show outselves in the cities." He banished further thoughts dowen that path from his mind. He was allowing too much. His people lived a hard life of blood and fire. Only the hard and the strong would survive such a thing. He could not let himself fall to weakness.

He turned to look at Althaea.
"You are one of the band now Althaea, so I must be honest with you. When the ships are reparied, and we return home...you are a member of the company, not a prisoner. When we are no longer under risk of death from discovery, all members of the band will be free to stay or go. You will be able to leave should you choose it. Or stay. And see what else this world has for you besides the inside of another temple. But it will be your choice, one way or the other." He told her flatly. Despite the tone, there was a certain edge to his voice, a look to his eye, as though to him, her answer mattered.

Althaea could hear the ache in his heart as he spoke of home. He certainly enjoyed his travels, but there was something missing, a feeling of belonging and acceptance that he could only get from his homeland. She certainly understood that, as time passed among the Vikings, and she was designated as other. So, feeling empathetic, she reached for his hand. She wasn’t sure what she intended to do with the gesture, but he offered her comfort when she had been beaten by the Jarl, and she wanted to do the same now.

“I should think you’d be happy to rid yourself of the burden of watching over me,” Althaea teased, trying to alleviate the sudden tension she felt as he stared at her. Despite her jokes, which she wasn’t sure if she was flirting with him or not, he maintained the serious, inquisitive gaze. “I don’t know that there is a place for me in your homeland, Thorkell. At best I am a foreign whore who can’t be trusted. At worst a witch. Though perhaps that is backwards, because at least as a witch they fear me.” She laughed bitterly, before turning to meet his eyes once more.

“Your efforts to get me to see the world –whether I like it or not- are admirable, but I am not sure yet that is a life I would choose for myself. But things could change, as time passes, and I do not see every aspect of the future, with my gifts.” Briefly she remembered the dream she had, when they sailed together. Not a prophetic dream, was it? If it were, it was the first that did not sure her wart. She shook her head, dismissing it. Just a passing fancy, nothing more. With a smile, she looked back at Thorkell once more. “At least, I don’t have to decide right this moment, do I?”

Thorkell nodded as she finished speaking, and didn't draw his hand away from hers. Was taking the small comforts that he found from this woman a weakness? He wasn't sure. He was very certain that he didn't care, adn that might have been the most worrying thing about the whole situation. Althaea had professed to have some divine link to prophetic visions, and it had been shown to be more prominent in more recent times. After all, had she possessed the kind of battle sight that she'd shown when the raid came, it was doubtful that they'd have made it out of that temple at all. Her Goddess was looking out for her.

"I my homeland people like you are called volur, and while some do fear them, they are respected, a part of the villages that they dwell in. hey are as much or as little a part of their society as they choose. Some lord their gifts over the others, frightening them. Others are more...public, more simple with their gifts. They are appreciated, lauded. And somoe...do not live as volur, and simply live out normal lives. But no Althaea, you do not have to choose now. But do recall, you would be free. If the life you found on the seas was not to your liking, you could return here. Your life will be in your own hands." He offered. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, changing hte lights again. "But you should know Althaea. I do not call you a burden."

It hadn’t seemed like very long, that they stood together, talking of the future, and her place in it, but the pinks and golds of the sunset had turned to purples and blues and blacks. Star twinkled to life, and the breeze turned cool. Not terribly uncomfortable, but her hair was still wet and that made her shudder slightly. Try as she might to hold it back, lest Thorkell find another thing to tease her about. More and more she found she wanted to impress the Viking. And more and more she found time seemed to fly by when she spent it with him.

The day turned into evening, which turned into night. Days passed, training and building up her strength with Thorkell. A week passed, and she began training with Yrsa as well, learning the techniques the shield maidens used to compensate for their smaller stature and lesser strength. But even compared to the shield maidens, Althaea was slight. She made up for it with her foresight gifts, but she knew she had a long road to go to become a warrior, if she would ever become one.

Things were peaceful, mostly, but there was still an underlying tension surrounding her. Many still did not trust her, and some still blamed her for the death of other members of the band. Nothing came of it, as she was often in Thorkell’s company, and none harassed her while he was nearby. But today was his day to bathe (a thought she tried not to think about too hard), and she pushed herself to continue to build her strength and endurance, even in Thorkell’s absence. Especially as she tried to distract herself from the growing attraction to him that she could no longer deny. Still, moving about the encampment without Thorkell invited trouble.

“Look, Thorkell let his bitch off leash,” Svein said, loud enough to ensure she heard. He was the one who had claimed weregild from her, the one who had threaten to rape her bloody. She stiffened, but otherwise paid no mind to his words. She had few friends and allies within the band, and didn’t want to make enemies.

Svein wasn't alone. Not for something like this. He was hardly the only one that took issue with Althaea being here. Thorkell's tactic of bringing her into the band had not been a popular one with many of hte warriors. Disinterest and indifference were the best reactions from most. A rare few, like Yrsa and a few of the other shield maidens, seemed to be glad of her, welcoming her as best they could. But Svein and a few of the more hard line oof the group hated what had happened, viewed her as an affront to the band.

It had to be said, if there was one way to properly anger a Norseman, it was by ignoring him. Svein stormed forward, waving his hand as the others that had followed. They fanned out, making a loose arc before Althaea, making sure that there would always be someone in the way of her if she kept going forward. Forward would have been teh safest place, closer to where Thorkell would likely be soon.
"Has your whore goddess struck you deaf for your crimes against her? Can you not hear when words are beinh spoken to you woman?" He demanded, getting a little closer to her, one hand seeming to twitch as though it longed to grasp a blade.

Althaea had hoped that ignoring his taunt would dissuade him from pressing further, but it was quickly becoming clear that she was wrong. Now there were five men, surrounding her. Her options were becoming more limited with each passing moment. She could try and push past him, get closer to where Thorkell was. But she had no idea when Thorkell would be done. She could run, but there wasn’t anywhere to go. And if she fled, they’d be forced to pursue, like a predator catching glimpse of its prey.

“I don’t…” she started, feeling her voice fail her as she watched his fingers twitch beside his blade. “I don’t want any trouble.” He hadn’t pulled it, why? She wasn’t a mind reader; there was little she could do to predict what he would do, in any given course of action.

“Where are your arrogant claims of your goddess’s protection? Where is that stuck up bitch from before?” He goaded, stepping closer to her. While Althaea had little doubt there would be divine retribution if he harmed her, she also doubted it would come quickly enough to prevent her from being hurt or killed. It would be of little reprieve to her. “Not so proud when Thorkell isn’t around, are you? Do you do anything for yourself, or just rely on everyone else, whore?”

She had to defend herself. Fingers tightened around her blade, not drawing it yet, but watching his reaction, “I don’t want to fight, but I will protect myself.”

"Doesn't want to fight?" Svein seemed to not be able to properly process the words, like he had never heard them phrased like that before. "As I live and breathe, to hear a member of the company admit such a thing." Svein all but spat the alst few words, as though the very thought drove his anger father. He noted her hand on the hilt of her blade, nervous, afraid. He knew she'd been training with the maidens, knew not to take her completely for granted, but he couldn't shale the thought of what she was. Temple woman. The cause of death to members of the felag. He couldn't ignore that.

"There is unfinished business between us. You owe weregild for the death of my brother. And I have waited long enough. What do you offer in recompense for his death?" Svein asked, his voice a hiss, as though it was an effort to contain violence no. His hand weas clenched in a tight fist, held beside his body, ready to strike. His other stayed close to the hilt of his sword, but still never made contact.

“I have nothing, and no opportunity to earn a share of the raiding. I cannot leave to make coin. How could I possibly pay the weregild?” She asked, trying to reason with the man. Clearly it was a futile endeavor, he knew all of these things already. Knew it, and still made demands of her.

Fuck her bloody! Memories of the threat returned now, as she considered what else he might want from her. Thorkell had wanred her, hadn’t he? That there were men here who would take it from her, if they thought they could. That there would be no sympathy for her in that case. And well…she wasn’t with Thorkell, now was she? They lived together, and occasionally slept alongside each other, but she wasn’t with Thorkell in any sense of the word. She liked him, and suspected he felt the same, but that did little for her now.

“Are you dumb? Plenty of women have figured out how to make coin with just their body,” Svein growled, even closer now, almost touching her. Almost, but yet careful not to. He was trying to bait her. What, into fighting him? Clearly that couldn’t go well for her, even if she were an elite shield maiden. Not while five men surrounded her.

“Once I go on raids, you will receive my shares until I have paid my debt to you,” she tried assuring him, figuring it was meaningless, but hoping it would delay him long enough for her to figure out how to escape the situation.

The confrontation was starting to draw attention, and by more than a few eyes. A few quickly spoken words sent someone running off towards the edge of the compound. But that was something for later. Actions needed to be taken now.
"Hold fast Svein." The words came clear and firm. Yrsa smiled at him as she came close to stand beside Althaea. "You know full well that weregild may be put off until she is afforded wealth of her own. As was agreed by lantern council, whose judgement you accepted. Trying to goad her into baring steel to you is a desperate act, and brings shame to yourself, and the memory of the fallen. Was that your intent this day?" Yrsa had a firm mind for the law of the felag and she'd put it to use more than once.

"Stay out of this!" One of Svein's men shouted. Yrsa only smiled very sweetly at him, and rolled her shoulders, letting her shield roll off of it's strap and down to where she could reach it easily.
"Unlikely! But you shoudl all know that if you plan to violate the laws of the band and attack us, you had best do so quickly! Brun should be along soon, and likely bringing Thorkell and the rest of the Shield Maidens! And once you're both outnumbered and outclassed, I don't fancy your chances!" SHe grinned widely as she spoke this last, the look of almost feral joy in her eyes at the prospect of a fight breaking out. Yrsa was a warrior born, and lived the ideals of her people more than most.

Svein scoffed, and spit on the ground by Althaea’s feet. Clearly his plan of isolating her to harass her had failed. “I should hope you don’t find yourself alone again, because I will have what I am owed.” With a nod of Svein’s head, the group dispersed, leaving Althaea with Yrsa.

“Thanks. I get I owe you now, as well,” Althaea acknowledged.

Yrsa shrugged and smirked, “I was really hoping for a fight.”

She liked Yrsa, and was certainly grateful to the woman for stepping in before anything unfortunate could happen. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if the shield maiden’s intervention had made things worse. It had cemented the idea that Althaea was helpless on her own, relying on those stronger than herself to protect her. But there was some hope there. Yrsa claimed the shield maidens would have join in the skirmish. Women who owed her nothing, who had nothing to gain from infighting within the felag.

Since being brought here, all Althaea could focus on was how different she was form the Vikings, how much she didn’t belong. Not for a moment did she consider that she had anything in common with anyone here. Still, the women here had accepted her, despite her foreign background and previous lack of combat skill. It may have been because she was a seer and now a healer, skills as rare as they were useful, but in the moment she felt true camaraderie with the Viking woman.

Still dripping wet, and only clad in breeches, THorkell arrived nearby, his axe held in both hands, his face etched with a look of concern and impeding violence. A Shield Maiden, Brun, was pacing him, making sure he got where he was heading. Thorkell took in the sight of the departing band around Svien, and the Yrsa was there. He sighed, and the violent look left him, leaving relief and calm. he released his axe from one hand so that he could run it along his scalp, a sign of beingpleased that he didn't have to wadfe in and kill other members of the band, since there was no doubt in his mind that if it had come to violence, he'd have had little choice but to unleash the fullest extent of his strength.

"It seems you were present when I was not, taking my duties on." He observed to Yrsa. The Shield Maiden shrugged.
"She was in need, and looked as though she might be able to provide the impetuous for a good brawl. And also..." Yrsa tapped her cheek where she'd been wounded, but now was only smooth unblemished skin. "...while I may not wear my courage like I would have, I no longer have to risk the wound going bad. A provided coin is not enough to repay such a thing." She said this last towards Althaea, nodding. Yrsa shrugged again, and staked away, Brun following suit.

"Svein seems to have moved faster than I anticipated." Thorkell said with a shake of his head. But you did well not drawing a weapon against him. If a member of the band bares steel against another, then it is considered permissible to fight, even kill one another. And Svein may claim that he was...carried away in his actions." Thorkell didn't spell out the likely outcome of Althaea losing a fight to Svein. Dying may be the most desirable part. Thorkell stretched, and then seemed to note for the first time that he was standing in the middle of hte compound in little but his breeches. His torso was marked adn seamed in places with scars, a history of violence spelled out in flesh, some fo them looking like they had been nearly fatal wounds, other faint and faded, old wounds that had long healed. "Well, it may be best if yuo accompany me so I may retrieve teh rest of my belongings from the bath." He ppointed out, turning from her, his axe resting on one of his shoulders. From behind the skin was clear, wind burned to a tanned hue, save for a pair of long raking scars that ran from his neck down to the small of his back. They were wide, vicious, but old, looking stretched and faded, as though they had been inflicted when he had been younger, and his growth had nearly erased them.

“So my cowardice proved prudent?” Althaea asked, bitterly mocking herself as she came down from the heights of fear. Thorkell explained the rules to her, explained what might have happened if she had pulled her blade. Even as the details were left unsaid, it was enough to send chills down her spine.

Greeks thought themselves to have a monopoly on codes of law, but the Vikings had their own honor codes as well, as Althaea endeavored to learn them all. She would have never figured them to be so labyrinthine or deliberate, assuming the Vikings were little more than savages before she was forced to live among them. And yet, more than once, that very code of rules had saved from death, or whatever other fate some may have wished for her. Knowing the language wasn’t enough. She needed to learn the laws too, is she was to thrive here. Yrsa had been good to her so far, and seemed to have a good grasp on it all. Perhaps the shield maiden could help her. Even if it was something else she would have to owe people for.

Thorkell mentioned her accompanying him back to the bath, and she was pulled from her thinking. The thought of him bathing, and of her joining him to bathe was alluring, until she realized he merely meant for her to remain close so he could get his stuff. Which in turned forced her to look upon him, nearly nude in all his Nordic glory. She was blushing as he turned, as she followed him, eyes tracing the well formed lines of his musculature. The blood pumping through her veins from fear and adrenaline had turned into something else now, something she wasn’t quite sure about.

Forcing herself to think of something other than Thorkell’s body nude dripping with water, wet rivulets running over his figure, she cleared her throat before asking, “What’s the tale behind these scars?”

Thorkell twitched at the mention of the only scars she was likely to be able to see. A hand reached back, fingers brushing the top of one of them.
"They are the legacy my mother left me as a child. Young, not yet strong enough to stop her, She...claimed to see a great darkness, and sought to stave it off. With a blade. And my back." He shivered at the memory, his eyes closing a moment.

He screamed, no shame in it, feeling the cold steel on his back, cutting the flesh, the blade nicking ribs sometimes. Teh chill of the metal was fading, warming from his own blood. His mother muttered over him, her eyes fever bright and glittering with a kind of madness. The door tot he house all but exploded inwards, and Thorkell's father stormed in, taking int he sights before him. A man of action, he took in all that he saw with a raider's eye, and stepped close, swinging one hand forward. Warmth spattered on Throkell's back, something hitting between his shoulders. The pain was no longer growing, and he looked up at his father, only now seeing that he held a bloodied sword in the hand he'd swung. His mother's head was on the ground now, staring at him, that same look in her eyes. Thorkell's father ran a hand along Thorkell's face, and nodded.
"No tears. You're a fighter born boy. Now hold still, I'll fetch the mender for you."

The memory was not a fond one, but Thorkell knew that he'd spoken enough of it to Althaea to have her understand what had happened. For all he knew, her gift had shown her the incident in vision.
"Not the fondest of memories from my homeland." He admit lightly, or as lightly as he could. They reached the edge of the bathing chamber, adn THorkell simply lifted his shirt and other possessions, and then started back to his home. He hadn't bothered to dress, to add to his state, since he wanted a fresh shirt.

While he and his people bathed only on the day normally set aside for such, Thorkell knew that Althaea woudl likely make far more use out of the bath than he. There was an image of his head, lingering within of his taking the time to join her, and who would blame him? Memories flashed back to him, images of the smooth expanse fo her back as she slept beside him after her punishment came back to him, the lines of her form in that same armour bringing a great deal of interest in the image of this exercise, and all that it might lead to...Thorkell knew he should banish the thought from his minjd, but he didn't. He let it linger, let it play out for his thinking, and he glanced back at Althaea, a difference to his look.

She had the spirit that he respected, and had shown the intelligence not to get herself killed. There were possibilities in her. He ducked into his home, and set his weapons on their respective racks, tossing his old shirt aside. he stood int he middle of the main room a moment, weighing his options, pondering what course he might take from here. He turned to face Althaea, and spoke one phrase that had been on his mind for some time.
"You are a rare woman Althaea, for more than just your sight." He told her in a quiet tone, taking a step towards her.

The jarl sat forward in his throne, his fingers steeples beforee him, listening to all that was said.
"So, the Seer enjoys the support of the Shield Maidens, as well as Thorkell. She is becoming more than troublesome I think." The jarl said aloud.
"Do we move on her then?" Svein asked.
"Nay. Thorkell likely retains the loyalty of much of his band. And the Seer would likely know it was coming. Between his band and the Shield Maidens, we would be too evenly matched. The internal fighting would tear us apart, and leave us too weak to continue our work here. It's possible Thorkell was canny enough to cultivate the Shield Maidens and the Seer. I may have underestimated him."
"I am owed! I will have what is mine!" Svein all but shouted. The jarl lowered his hands and looked at the man dead in the eye, his gaze unflinching, unblinking.
"Do not forget yourself Svein. A debt is owed, but you swore your sword to me. And our purpose here is not so simple as you may think. Begone, and keep an eye on the Seer." Svein nodded, leaving, a few of his supporters falling in step behind him.

"Your mother?" Althaea murmured, horror present in her voice. Dreams she had since living with Thorkell made more sense now. Only, she had seen them from a different angle, with cold steel in her hands. That it was a thing that had happened, not purely a creation of her own mind bothered her. Althaea herself didn't exactly have a relationship with her own mother, a woman she vaguely remembered from her childhood. The last she had seen her mother, at 12, the woman cried happy tears that her daughter would not be following her into the pleasure houses. There seemed something especially horrific about a mother attacking their own child.

"She had... seen?" Althaea gasped, with a sudden realization. "Wait, you mean she was a seer?" The new information didn't sit well with her. It didn't actually change anything, but it felt like it changed things. Althaea certainly understood seeing horrific things, things she wished she could change, when she lacked the power. But to hurt child? What had she seen, that would drive her to that? Could she be driven to such madness? She was being trained in combat, her pacifist nature pushed aside in the name of self preservation.

The train of thought disturbed her, enough that she wish she would have stayed with the fantasies of Thorkell bathing. Such images easily returning as they reentered the bath house together. Staying with her, as he declined to put his shirt back on.

The confrontation with Svein left her doubting if her virtue was any safer here, now that she was a member of the band. Perhaps it was better to part with it willingly, than to have it forcibly ripped from her. It could even serve as a deterrent, if she were no longer a virgin, but that was likely wishful thinking. Still, she found herself trying to justify lying with Thorkell, not because she was afraid he would force himself on her, but because she wanted him. Desired him. Desire that seemed reciporcated, as he turned towards her in his house. By Olympus, the hunger in his eyes made her tremble.

"I've not been with a man," she explained, a fact he surely knew, neither backing form him nor moving towards him. "Athena is a virgin goddess, and her priestess maintain their virtue, in honor of her. But...well, for as much as she has spoken to me, she has never commanded this explicitly..." She met his eyes, not hiding her own longing.