Whispers of the west

Elyswith barely felt the cold anymore, though the biting wind seeped into every corner of the great hall. The distant hum of conversation and laughter filled the space, mingling with the crackle of the fire. She sat apart, her back pressed against the wall, her Bible cradled in her lap. The words blurred as she stared at the page, her thoughts far away. Ragnar's announcement at the feast echoed in her mind.

They were going west again.

The thought brought a pang of dread. It wasn't just the raids or the violence - though that was enough to terrify her - but the way her brother had begun to embrace this life. He barely touched his Bible now, seemed to barely remember it. He was fascinated by these people, their gods, and their ways. That fascination terrified her as much as anything else.

She glanced toward the fire. Athelstan sat close to Ragnar, his posture relaxed, a faint smile on his face as he listened to Lagertha speak. He belonged there in a way that she never could.

A shadow then fell over her, pulling her from her thoughts. She looked up, startled, to find Ragnar standing there, his head tilted as he studied her.

''Always hiding,'' he said, crouching to her level. His voice was soft, but the playful edge was unmistakable.

''I'm not hiding,'' she replied, clutching her Bible tighter. ''I just needed a moment alone.''

''Hmm.'' His eyes flicked to the book in her hands, then back to her face. He gestured to the Bible. ''Do you think it will protect you?''

''It has before,'' she said quietly.

His lips curled into a faint smile, but his eyes remained intense. ''You're trembling,'' he said, his voice dropping slightly. ''Are you cold, or is it something else?''

''I'm fine,'' she said quickly, looking away.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers where they gripped the Bible. The warmth of his touch startled her, and she froze, her breath catching.

''I don't believe you,'' he said softly.

Her gaze snapped back to his, and she found herself trapped in those piercing blue eyes. There was something disarming about the way he looked at her - something that made her feel as though he could see right through her.

''What do you want, Ragnar?'' she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

''To talk,'' he said, leaning in slightly. ''And to ask something of you.''

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding. ''What is it?''

''I want you to come with us,'' he said, his voice low and steady.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.

''To the west?'' she asked, her voice trembling.

He nodded. ''When we sail in the spring.''

''No,'' she said quickly, shaking her head. ''I can't. I don't belong there.''

''With us?'' he interrupted, his tone teasing but his gaze unwavering.

She hesitated, her words faltering under his scrutiny. ''I'm not like you,'' she said finally.

''No,'' he agreed, his voice soft. ''You're not. That's why I need you.''

Her brow furrowed. ''What do you mean?''

 ''You saved me when I was at death's door. You have a gift, Elyswith.''

He reached out, his fingers brushing her chin, gently guiding her to meet his gaze. 

Her stomach twisted at his words, a mixture of fear and something she couldn't quite name. ''I don't know,'' she said, her voice barely audible.

''You do,'' he said, leaning closer. ''You miss your home. I see it in your eyes. If you come with us, you might find a way back to it.''

His words struck something deep within her, and she felt tears prick her eyes. She looked away, her chest tightening with the weight of his gaze.

Her hands trembled as she held the Bible to her chest. The thought of seeing her home again was both painful and tempting.

''I'll think about it,'' she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ragnar smiled then, standing up and offering her his hand. ''Good,'' he said simply.

She hesitated, then took his hand, his warmth grounding her. As he helped her to her feet.

Then, with a mischievous grin, he turned and walked back toward the fire, leaving her standing there, her mind a whirlwind of emotions she couldn't quite untangle.