𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, vikings

𝟏𝟓. 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲

The horn blared briefly before its master was taken down mercilessly. Sigyn's hope began to dwindle, but she couldn't stop fighting. If that were to be her end, she would leave for Vallhala as a great warrior. Her sword was already long gone, only the axe remained firmly glued to her hand and it got bloodier by the second. Sigyn quickly noticed the Saxon man fighting not far from her, he was doing a good job... Until he wasn't. The shieldmaiden couldn't believe that the fierce warrior was now down, even if she disliked him.

"Shit." the woman cursed. Looking around she noticed it wasn't only Heahmund who had fallen, most of their fellow soldiers were being defeated as well. "Harald, the Christian is down." Sigyn shouted trying to get closer to the king, pushing aside anyone who opposed her. "We must get out of here!"

The brunette barely had time to finish her warning when someone hit her from behind with a shield, the blow landed on her skull leaving Sigyn to see stars. Her attacker seized the opportunity that her dizziness brought and reached out for his sword intending to finish the job. Sure, she had his back to him, but it was war. War doesn't care. The Viking man stabbed his sword at Sigyn's shoulder, he had aimed higher (towards her neck, a fatal blow) but all the fighting had already taken a toll on him and he was too tired and sloppy. Luckily for Sigyn.

"Sigyn!" Harald's screamed and the man who was about to send the shieldmaiden to Valhalla made the mistake of getting distracted by it. The king didn't hesitate to slide his sword into the enemy's neck. "Sigyn." the shieldmaiden barely registered her name being called, before she blacked out. The pain in her head and her shoulder was just too much.

Harald Finehair was a selfish and cunning man, but he wasn't stupid and knew how important Sigyn was to the Ragnarssons, especially the cripple one. Facing Ivar's wrath was the last thing he wanted to deal with, so he knew that girl couldn't be left behind. Oh, Odin! She couldn't be dead, if so, Ivar the Boneless would go on a rampage worse than anything they'd ever seen. The king picked the shieldmaiden up, momentarily ignoring the worrying amount of blood dripping from the back of her head, and began shouting orders for his soldiers to retreat.

༻✵༺

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 is never pretty. The remaining soldiers have to go back home with the weight of their failure resting on their shoulders, while the ones who didn't make it are left behind to rot. It's a terrible sight to see the families of the fallen ones having their hearts crushed once they realized their loved ones won't come back. War was ugly. War was cruel. Yet to a Viking war was also glorious. To die a warrior's death meant the Valkyries would guide you to Valhalla where the gods would welcome you with a feast — that was the ultimate goal of a Viking, to forever dine with the gods. It was an honor. It was how they found the courage to fight with such ruthlessness because they never feared death, instead they welcomed it as a blessing.

Still, as Ivar stared at Sigyn's pale face, he didn't care for the glory of Valhalla. The gods could wait for their time with her was not at all near. Sigyn Flokisdottir's time in Midgard was not over yet — it couldn't be. The young woman had been in and out of consciousness for about a day and a half. Harald's healers were dragged toward Sigyn's room by a fuming Ivar as soon as they arrived back at the whale kingdom. The wound on her shoulder wasn't as deep as it could've been, but it was still significant enough that cauterization was needed. Sigyn was fully awake when the healer pressed the scorching heated knife on her wound — her screams still echoed in Ivar's mind like a constant nightmare.

The physicians later proceed to stitch the gash in the back of the woman's head. She only got paler and paler, but couldn't rest due to the amount of pain in her body. So Sigyn was given a cup of tea that was supposed to help her with the pain. Ivar figured this was what kept her sleeping for so long. The cripple hardly left his brother's fiancé's side, and the healers who stopped by to check on her were never surprised to find him sitting on a chair next to the bed.