╝ 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑 | | 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛!

She woke to the sound of indistinct voices. Idunn’s eyes pried open like squeaky shutters and were flooded with pale golden light. She moaned softly and rolled onto her side. Only then did she notice something jabbing into her ribs. The sharp pain was enough to drag her into consciousness and she sat up to find she had been sleeping on her axe. It was her hilt that had been jabbing her. It lay before her unapologetically strewn across the bear skin where she had slept.

“Oh yeah that’s not a safety concern,” she murmured under her breath.

She glanced to her left. There was the sleeping form of a great boulder of a man. He too had fallen asleep on the floor in all his clothes. His armor glinted in the morning light as his stomach rose and fell. Next to him, there was another sleeping companion, and he snored peacefully beside the waning fire pit.

Idunn’s fuzzy eyes drifted up from the floor and surveyed her surroundings. Above them was the cavernous wooden ceiling of the longhouse. To either side, two parallel rows of tables, still strewn with dishes and plates. Across the firepit, another three or four vikings lay asleep on a bed of bear skins and heavy wool blankets. Idunn had no recollection of finding her way to the floor. The last thing she remembered was resting her drunken cheek on the table as her full belly and the loud music of the hall lulled her to sleep. It had been a feast for the ages, her first since becoming a true warrior.

She yawned and gingerly pulled herself to her feet without waking any of the others. Her head was spinning. The great empty hall was quiet, but shadows of outside figures drifted across the floor. The voices from outside were loud enough and the light pure enough that she guessed it was mid morning. She ran a hand over her head and found locks of blonde hair had wriggled loose from their braids at some point in the night. She wished to go back to bed, perhaps trudge down the hill to her small house beside the water.

Instead, she elected to find her friends.

“You’ve gone mad,” Freyja hissed, glaring at a face that was identical to hers. Her twin brother met her glare just as fiercely, jaw clenched. Freyjr crossed his arms across his chest in a stubborn gesture that Freyja recognized well. She mimicked his actions, and he huffed at her.

“Come on, Freyja,” he argued. “This is our chance! Did you not hear the merchant? About the great monastery? It’s a few days by horse – less by boat!”

“I heard,” Freyja huffed. “I also heard father say that we were not to go raiding this season – that our place is here, in the village. Did you not?”

Freyjr waved a hand at that. “Father’s just superstitious. That old seer said something to him, and now he’s paranoid. Just like he always is. This is our opportunity to make a name for ourselves, Freyja! Our first chance to experience life outside the village! Our first chance to bring honor to the gods!”

Freyja let out a long, heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Freyjr,” she told him, voice low. “I am as eager as you to experience the world. I want to make my own name out there, but there is a time and a place for these things, and I am concerned that you are running into a battle that we cannot win. We know nothing about this monastery – nothing about the people there, whether they’ve guards or warriors. Nothing.”

“I am not afraid, Freyja,” he replied. “This is our chance, and I will not squander it, no matter what you or father say.” The siblings stared at each other for a long moment. It was as if Freyja was peering into a mirror; they were the same height, nose to nose, eye to eye. He had the same dark blue eyes as their father, brimming now with a barely checked fire of excitement. His features were like hers – fine and more elfin in nature, much to his chagrin. Freyjr sometimes thought he looked too womanly; when they were young, the others in the village would often tease him about it. His cheekbones were high, and his eyes were framed by dark lashes. Added with his dark hair, currently drawn into a braid that ran down his back, Frejyr was quite different in looks to his father. Considering that Freyja was identical in appearance, she was also quite different to her father – and to the others in the village, for that matter. The twins took after their mother in all by demeanor.

Freyja heaved a heavy sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to keep you from getting yourself killed.” Freyjr’s face split into a wide grin at that, and he yanked his sister forward into a tight hug.

And then the pair froze at the sound of footsteps approaching. Freyja whirled around to meet the strangers (who were coming from the longhouse, by the direction of their footsteps).

The morning light was bright enough the make her eyes ache. Flecks of snow drifted through the air, though Idunn could see silver rays of light breaking through the clouds. It was cold, but it was nothing compared to her old home. She remembered the deep ache of the winters in Norway, where the cold would penetrate into her bones and settle there, as if she was freezing from the inside out. It was not so bad in England, but her nose turned pink as she marched down toward the docks.

She was halfway down before she spotted the twins—standing several feet apart as they always did. It was rare to find them more than that distance away from each other. From far away it was difficult to distinguish brother from sister between their dark hair and their slender builds. It always struck Idunn how different they looked from their father. The jarl was tall and fair like a birch tree. His children, by comparison, were naturally smaller and darker. One thing they shared with Brandr, however, were his fine, elfin features.

Even from a good distance, Idunn could tell that they were discussing something important. She approached with her clock wrapped around her snugly, and her pale complexion indistinguishable from the winter surroundings. As she grew closer, she could hear Freyjr and Freyja's whispered voices talking over each other. It was then that Idunn noticed the boat beside the dock equipped with the heavy shield she recognized as Freyjr's.

"Where are you two going?" asked Idunn as she strode over to meet them. She joined them as casually as one would family members. After all, the three of them had grown up in Thorne Clan together. They were practically siblings, even though Idunn was clearly the odd one out in appearance. There were never many children in the clan at one time, so they had all been forced together from a young age. Idunn had more stories which included the twins than those that did not. Most involved her tagging along on some ill-advised adventure. She was two years younger than them, a number which actually mattered when they were small. She still remembered being a pig-tailed six year-old who ran after the eight year-old, troublemaking twins. They were always getting into trouble. Never had they faced a punishment too steep to deter them.

The carefully prepared ship was enough to immediately tip Idunn off. She knew they were up to something. Her blue eyes shifted between the two of them, simultaneously suspicious and curious. Whatever they were about to do, she wanted in. Even if it meant skipping a much needed day to nurse her hangover.

"Whatever it is, we should go before the fog clears. Otherwise the whole clan will see us floating downriver."