brave in the heart. vikings

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 44

They lingered by the firefalls for almost an hour, not quite believing the sight they had stumbled upon. Thyra mumbled something incoherent, her hand wrapped around the pendant at her throat. It was a desperate, scared sound that made the hair on the back of Merida's neck stand to attention, but she paid no mind to it. These were her lands. Merida did not fear them.

Ysra and Sif stood at a distance from the shore of the pool that gathered at the bottom of the waterfall, eyeing the sky and the line of the woods, turning at any brush of a tree or scattering of a bird.

Merida sat by the water's edge beside Thyra. Even with her hand fully submerged, the red ran thick enough that she couldn't see her fingers through it. It was almost like blood. The comparison made Merida feel sick to the stomach. A waterfall stained red, the Seer has said, and here the firefalls flowed a grateful crimson, the gush of water so strong that she could feel the earth's anger as if the spirits around her were screaming.

So literal the Seer's words were. So literal that she began to wonder about the other truths he had given her. A band of knots, a bear's fur, matted with blood and an orange city.

"It does you no good to think of the Seer's words now," Ysra said, speaking in Merida's native tongue.

Hearing the familiar words soothed her, despite their meanings. Sif eyed the two warily, shaking her head, but soon sunk to her knees, coaxing Thyra from the water, pulling black the blood-soaked white of her dress. Merida wanted to ask Ysra how she'd known of her worries- if she could read the thoughts straight from her head. But it was obvious, written clearly on her face, and Ysra had heard all about the prophecy the moment they'd stumbled upon the red of the falls.

"You won't know their meaning until it comes to pass," Ysra said, changing to Kattegat's language, to the pleasure of Sif, who nodded thankfully.

"And why must that be the way it goes? Why can't I know it?"

"It is their way," Ysra said, even though it might've been her way now too.

"Why?" Merida insisted.

"The Gods do not believe we can withstand too much reality," Sif said instead, standing and leaving Thyra to her muttering.

Merida said nothing more. Who was she to know the will of Gods, no less the ones she had learned of only recently in her life?

"Death haunts the air," Thyra croaked out suddenly, standing with her arms stretched out, feet splashing in the water. "I can sense it."

"What is she talking about?"

The Sif began to laugh. It was a deep, bellowing sort of laugh that might've sounded more natural coming from the lips of a man. The sound unsettled Merida, making her shoulders square defensively as Sif finally calmed.

"You don't know," the woman stated. "You really don't know."

It seemed she would get no answer as to what it was she hadn't been told. Sif started forward, Thyra trailing behind her. It was only Ysra who waited, watching her with dark, careful eyes.

"Lead the way."

Merida assumed leader, snaking through the trees. The air was cool against the few patches of skin that were exposed. Her hair had grown longer since she had last stepped foot in her homeland. It was thick, laced into tight braids down the back of her head, as Lagertha sometimes did. She tugged on the platt, feeling the pull of her hair. Her mother would hate it. Before she could pull them out, Thyra's muttering took her attention again.