With toned, tanned arms dragging the nearly three hundred-pound beast behind him, Dragmall grunted. Every step measured, breath puffing in the cold as he heaved the elk across the frozen ground. Its antlers carved a trail into the dirt behind him, scratching long scars into the earth. Ahead, Valkvann revealed itself piece by piece: the new houses rising where none had stood, smoke curling from fresh chimneys. He saw first the timbers he himself had set, the roof he had raised which stood as proof that he belonged there, or at least wished to.
"Dragmall!" Svea's voice rang out, surprised as she caught sight of the creature he dragged behind him.
He dropped the beast's legs with a huff, bracing his hands against his thighs as he leaned forward, a laugh rolling out of him from deep in his chest. Soreness had already set in to his muscles, even ones he had been unaware of until they had finally been used. His pride seemed to soften the ache however. "I wasn't expecting it to be so heavy," he confessed, letting out a pant. He spoke more confidently than he had in the last few weeks since he had finally woken up. He rubbed the edge of his nose with his sleeve, warming the tip against the chill.
Svea's eyes traced the carcass, then him. "The hide would make a fine blanket," he defended, words tumbling quickly, "and the meat. . . a gift, a way to thank you. To keep you fed, at least for a time."
He struggled to find a way to thank her for taking him in or even saving his life in the fire. More so, he desperately wanted to prove he was useful. That he did belong.
Although it had been a touching sentiment, she frowned. "Catching something that forces me to cook is hardly a thank you."
The grin fell from his face, shoulders stiffening at his dismissal. He hadn't considered that aspect. He had made more work for her, not given her his thanks. His brows furrowed. "Then I'll cook," he promised quickly, correcting his offer.
Svea turned her attention to him, sighing as she shook her head. Normally, she would have been thrilled by the offer. After all, any excuse to avoid the hearth was a gift in itself. As she lifted the fabric of his shirt, the cold wind cut across his skin, she knew he wouldn't be able to keep his promise. Not yet. His chest and shoulders, strong as carved oak, the fresh lines of muscles shifted beneath skin that had already begun to darken with bruises. It wasn't the only strength that caught her eye, not at all. There was stubbornness that had also been written in his suffering. The body of a man who refused to rest, even when he should. She could admire that.
"You've managed to aggravate your wounds," she said at last, letting the shirt fall back into place. Her tone was sharp, but her fingers lingered a breath longer than they should have. "You're in no condition to cook, and now I have to tend to you all over again. If you want to thank men, then don't injure yourself further. And don't bring me things that only add to my workload." She glanced around to find supplies she could stitch his wound back up with. She could at least begin with clean water.
Dragmall's lips parted to answer, but he fell silent at the sight of Agathe striding toward them. The smile faded from his face like the final ember put to ash. The softness of his eyes as he warned Svea did not.
The Chieftain's presence was not welcomed. She always seemed most at home when striding into Svea's threshold. It was true the village was under her word, this did not negate the authority each had over their land. Nor how fiercely Svea would defend her property if it came to it.
"I always seem to find you two together," she said, her tone smug. Her eyes gleamed with the accusation. Agathe was never subtle, she was no more discreet than a snake that had been stepped on. Svea, for her part, refused to meet Dragmall's gaze. She did not want to let Agathe see the flicker of something she might twist into proof. Agathe was especially entertained by this.
"Perhaps you visit too often then."
"Leif and Dragmall were the exception to men living in Valkvann, were they not?" Agathe pressed. "Then tell me why is it I hear whispers that Eydis has invited a man named Finn, that merchants, male merchants, are now being welcomed to stay?"
In Valkvann, even visitors were strange.
Only Leif and Dragmall had arrived to stay once the mist had lifted, and with it, the protection it had long provided.
Svea merely nodded, silent.
"This isn't how -"
"On the day you accepted your place as Chieftain," Svea cut in, exhausted of the constant complaint from Agathe and lack of action. "You gave no sacrifice to Freyja. Perhaps some changes will prove harmful, others good. More villagers, more farmers - these are good. Slighting Freyja? This is not." she turned back, her eyes now narrowed. If Agathe had a leg to stand on, if she had made any effort to do what was best for their people, then Svea would have accepted it as she ran the village into the ground because at least she had given them a fighting chance. At her absolute refusal to honor their ways, even with the Aesir, Svea had no choice. "Had you offered blood at her altar, I might respect your claims. You make no effort for the gods, nor the people you are sworn to. I will no longer accept your complaints."
"This is my village," Agathe warned, her sunburnt nose scrunching.
What an unusual sight to see, considering there had not been any raids or trips recently made, not on the cloudy days they had been experiencing in the region.
Since this couldn't be argued, Svea conceded to this and this alone.
"I know Asvoria left the village in your. . ."
"No," Agathe spat, shaking her wild mane, each strand whipping like a horse's tail keeping flies at bay. She stepped back, needing the distance even as her words continued to press forward. "You do not know. You do not respect me. You refuse the new ways of my rule!" Her voice gained strength as she loosened the anger she had held coiled within for weeks.
"There are no ways!" Svea snapped, her patience fracturing. She refused to hear a second more of Agathe's attempt to martyr herself.
She had tried to be understanding. Giving time to Agathe to adjust to her role. To deal with the heartbreak of losing their sisters. Too much time had passed, too little had been done. Nobody had been honored. "You refuse tradition, yet also refuse to guide us forward. You do nothing, Agathe! Nothing for the gods, nothing for the people. I -"
Growling, she replied to the accusation, "You are no one!" Her face reddened with her fury. "The daughter of no one, with no name, no claim, no right! You were sworn to this village to protect it but none have forgotten what you will always be. A thrall!"
Svea laughed, mercilessly. "I am protecting Valkvann. From you." her green eyes locked on Agathe's, unyielding. The stare was a predator's, and Agathe flinched beneath it. She was reminded of the lynx she had once stumbled upon in the wild who had been mid-hunt. She had learned that day that the lynx was a creature who would throw itself into any danger, that would risk claw and bone, to have what it desired. It's stare was too fierce to mistake, too focused to ignore. Too centered for anything else. Svea would throw herself into fire or fang alike to secure what she desired.
Agathe faltered, realizing how outnumbered she was. She darted glances between Svea and Dragmall, her shoulders rising defensively to shield her throat. She had hurled her cruelest accusation, yet Svea had not even acknowledged it. Could she be blamed for it? She had heard the numerous times Asvoria had reminded her of it.
"You have twisted this village into something perverse," Agathe hissed, her voice breaking. "You will answer for your arrogance." She tried to cover her retreat with venom, but her eyes darted as she caught Leif approaching. "I have a village to tend. You'll excuse me."
"For the first time in months. . ." Dragmall muttered under his breath. He had no wish to disrespect a leader outright, but the words escaped all the same.
Agathe glared at him but turned away. She walked away from them quickly, only glancing back to ensure he knew of her contempt. While he remained one of Svea's protected, there was not much she could do without raising a challenge amongst all who had remained.
Leif stepped in to replace her. "Was that. . . Agathe? I haven't seen her since I first moved here."
Dragmall nodded. "She is scarce these days." he agreed. "This is why the people come to Svea when they need guidance. Isn't that why you're here as well?"
Svea clicked her tongue softly at Dragmall's bluntness but said nothing. She was still reeling from the clash, still carrying the pride of knowing the people had begun to see her for what she had become. She bore no title, yet Valkvann looked to her as leader. She did not carry the sword of the land, but she carried its heart.
Leif chuckled, sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck, his dark hair now grown longer to brush his shoulders. "Svea's been training me to help protect the village. . . I traded a few days' work with Hielm on his home for this axe. Look!" He lifted it proudly, spinning it in his hands to show her from every angle prior to offering it up.