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Fantasy The King's Throne For Valhalla

Agnar was quickly rushed into the of the longhouse they use to take care of the wounded and sick, many people shouting and fretting over the warriors state as they quickly tore the clothing from his body and quickly removed the blade before pressing the wound with cloth. Agnar shouted in pain as his face broke out into cold sweat, panting as it the nausea overtook him finally, vomiting blood off the side of the bed. Few men lingered still as they went to join Ulf and the others to protect their home and left only some of the women with him. "W-wait..Erik!" He coughed as the sour copper tasting fluid stuck to his tongue, grabbing Eriks trousers to gain his attention. "What is it brother?" He knelt down to speak to him easier while Agnar shakily reached underneath his tattered bloodied clothing to pull a necklace from it, the mark of odins raven engraved on it. "Ulf...please...find him, give him this" Erik took the necklace and nodded before taking off quickly to leave him with the women and healers.
Erik was quick to find a sturdy horse and his weapons before taking off quickly into the opening following his fellow warriors.

"Ulf! You crazy mother fucker..your wounded liek this and yet you still go out into battle? You need to go be seen!" He scolded the man as he caught up to him, a dead look in his eyes that made him feel uneasy. While he could though he fished the necklace form his pocket and thrusted it into his chest. "At least take this you fool...Agnar wouldnt let me leave unless I did, with the raven with you may Odin bless your safe return" He locked eyes once more before taking off following some of the others in another direction.
 
The jarl stood as he turned to see Erik running out of the longhouse, holding what seemed to be The same necklace he saw The blacksmith had worn at times. "Ah My king, Agnar wanted me to deliver this necklace To Ulf. Where is he-?" This exact question usher a heavy sigh to resound from the Jarl's lips, he shook his head softly and took the necklace from Erik's hands. Motioning for everyone to gather, as it was time for the king to take matters into his own hands. He returned to watch the others rush to patch the grave wounds that the former warrior had been inflicted with, a sight he had seen before in the past. One that is so horrific that the king could only offer a prayer from the bottom of his heart, as he sat beside Agnar's bed and held his hand with the necklace buried within their palm.

"You will need this more than Our strategist, Agnar. I'm sure he has his own methods, he will not be defeated. Not because he is capable, but the fact that he had no choice but to win. For us and himself, so rest and gather your strength." The jarl spoke with a heavy heart, he could almost remember the rainy days when Ulf was taken to them. The same somber days with the two apart, truly he pitied the warrior who lay fighting for his life. It felt like they have been abandoned, could he even blame the pale figure in the first place? Only silence remain as he tighten his grip around the calloused palm.
 
Agnars pale face seemed to only grow more pale as he lay there, grunting and trying to form pained words as the women went to work stopping the bleeding and cutting away already dying tissue. The best they could do was bring him water and keep him hydrated, lucky if he the wound dint penetrate to deep into his stomach. They begin to keep the wound filled with clean clothes before taking sterilized pins to close up the wound. One of the women approached the jarl placing a hand on his arm.
"My Jarl...there's not much else we can do for the wound. It will have to be cleaned daily if the bleeding can slow over night, but otherwise it's completely up to his body from this point on"
She looked down sadly at Agnar as she placed a cold towel on his forehead. They would take turns watching him through the night since the first 24 hours are the most crucial. He would either live or die tonight and no one could begin to wonder which it would end up being.

Agnars chest rose and fell quickly and shuddered as his breaths would changed rapidly, his body fighting to stop the bleeding. He managed to open his darkened eyes to look upon the Jarl, feeling the necklace in his hand.
"I-I...need him...to come back. He has...to"
He needed to be there for him and during one of his more dire moments he was not there to be by his side. The best he could do is pray, pray that his old body didn't fail him now when Ulf needed him even if all he could do was lay here. He hadn't realized just his desperate and scared he was to lose him while at the same time fearing leaving himself for Ulf to fight alone. Who else would be on his side blindly? Who would be there to make him eat when he worked day in and out and who would make him stop taking things so seriously so he could enjoy a moments peace.
 
The jarl could only hold the pale trembling hand close, rubbing their knuckles with his thumb as every shred of strength kept those tears at bay. "We all needed him to, but at this very moment. He needs you to pull through more than anything, So you must recover. You have to fight, not only for him, but for yourself." He reminded the blacksmith, there was still some bitter truth left unanswered. For the very man whom they trusted blindly had abandoned them upon such unfamiliar lands, a village they built with their own hands. He know not what truly goes within the strategist's brain, but there is one thing he knew for sure. Those dead crimson eyes, dulled from even the sparks of the moonlight. Estranged, distant and cold.

Shaking his head slowly, he leaned in to place a palm on the warrior's forehead. Uttering quiet blessings for their recovery, wishing that they managed to pull through the worst of it. "Rest Agnar, you need your strength. You have suffered enough, I'm sure in time he will return. If not, we will simply have to bring him back." The jarl expressed a sense of hope despite knowing well that Ulf was stubborn with his decision. In that sense, the Jarl had decided to send a few of warriors to scout and report what they saw. Both of the battle and Ulf's whereabouts, hoping for some good news to grace them soon.
 
Agnar nodded weakly as he strained in pain at the pins being pushed through his skin. Thankfully the ladies were quick and efficient with their work making it as pain free as they possibly could. But the night was off and on with Agnar waking from the pain and also passing out when his body couldn't take it anymore. He tried to think about everything he still needed to do from the people he needed to protect in his village and wondering where Ulf was in too if everything. Some hours he was fighting and sweating as he yelled in pain and vomiting while some others he lay silent and tries to fight the wound. Plenty of the women assumed due to his age that he would pull through while other's tries to encourage that he would.

Meanwhile his mind was either blank or filled with happy memories stained by the pain and blood of the nights actions. But eventually morning crested the hill and broke through and greeted many tired and crestfallen faces. But when Agnar motioned to a women for more water she looked upon him with delight. He had survived the night after all and was asking for things on his own. She motioned for another to alert the Jarl as she fetched his water. But Agnar felt like death himself. The pain in his stomach now more dulled but still just as painful, he didn't even dare move as he lay there at the neck and call of others.
"You truly humor this old man..."
He was still pale as snow and voice cracked and wavered in pain. But from what he could tell he was still alive and still kicking and he looked over to see that his hand was still clutching the necklace he wanted to give to Ulf. And of course his mind went straight there as he wondered what had come of his companion.
"Ulf please I need to know where he is"
 
Morning had greeted them, but the Jarl did not have even a wink of sleep. He stayed up all night like some who are too concerned to leave Agnar alone, in truth the fear was incredibly debilitating. Holed up in his study, he recieved more news of the battle that happened overnight. One of the scouts returned with a sack of herbs and vials all given by the strategist himself, a gladdening news to learn of. "I see, Thor has answered my prayers, that is indeed some gladdening news. Thank you." He sighed in relief, however the scout seemed a little troubled. "It's just that, he knew we were watching all alonh and warned us not to approach anywhere close. If we do, he'll consider us as an enemy." The scout fearfully spoke, knowing how cold those words were replayed within his mind.

This was troubling indeed, would Ulf truly cut them off? Who is not to say that won't raise his sword against them. Out of all the warriors he knew, Ulf was never one to bluff such things. His warnings were real regardless of it's contents, this was a truth he wasn't prepared for. How could anyone try to? For the clan, he has never raised his weapon against his brothers in arms. Were they truly far gone? There was no use in moping around as he needed to deliver the medicine for the healer to use on their fallen warrior. Passing it carefully to Freja's arms, she seemed almost familiar with the concoction that he handed over to her. "This herbs.. This is all Ulf's handiwork- I can make use of this." For once she had something she could rely on, after all the man with such knowledge was none other but the white wolf himself. She hurried over to Agnar's side and Freja had the Jarl tag along as the warrior requested his presence.

He stood out of Freja's way while she is busy applying the herb on that nasty wound, along with helping the ailing warrior to drink his medicine. It was bitter but it would ease the pain that riddles him so, ushering a sense of relief upon the healer. "There, we should have plenty more left till you make a full recovery. Try to take things easy for now alright?" Freja advised, the same words that Ulf himself would have spoken if he was still there beside them. Soon it was only the two of them, the Jarl and the poor bedridden soul.

"How are you feeling? Here, have some water." Those rough palm grabbed the horn water container and helped fed some water to those chapped lips. Making sure they don't choke on the liquid. "I know you are anxious old friend, Our strategist had survived the invasion. However, he would not return anytime soon." The jarl pointed out, he was reluctant to tell the sick warrior of the warning they were given. He fear it would crush their soul.
 
As people began to gather around him more so he glanced around, seeing his shirt torn to shreds to get to the wound beneath and seeing the dagger laying on a table nearby still stained with the dried blood. Surely he hated these clothes but Ulf had been so excited to see him wear them at first, why did that seem like so long ago now? As Freyja approached him he wanted to reach out and ask but the burning of the herbs in his wound made his back arch slightly while he gripped the blankets with gritted teeth. The only way he was able to get past the pain was the fact the medicine he had to drink was so bitter it felt like a slap to the face. When he was done he nodded weakly, "Of course, thank you Freja you help has been most comforting" He truly did appreciate her but her manner of speaking was to much like someone else that he wanted here, the pain flickered in his eyes and not from the wound in his stomach. How pathetic was it that he so desperatly needed him when Agnar felt it was his fault that Ulfs plans were foiled. Had he not been there he could have most likely finished things smoothly.

He sighed and looked to the Jarl as he turned his head to drink some small amounts of the water, the pain of consuming anything too great to do too much at once. Though he did almost choke when he mentioned that Ulf was still alive. "Thank the gods..I could not rest peacefully not knowing what had become of him. Why wont he return yet? He shouldnt be trying to continue on with the wounds he sustained himself. Can none of our brothers drag him back? Surely even Bjorn has the strength to make that old man follow" He chuckled but it was dry and painful and mostly forced to alleviate the rising worry in his chest. He would go to him himself if only he hadnt been restricted to this damned bed because of this wound he sustained.
 
For a moment, The jarl felt the weight on his chest hamper his voice. He could almost recall those dull red beads that haunted him not long ago, at that moment it truly felt like they became strangers once more. Far out of his reach, or anyone's to hope. With a forced smile, The Jarl lightly squeezed the warrior's shoulder. "He is still busy taking care of matter over there, He'll return when he is ready. I'm sure." A white lie he pull through his teeth, knowing full well that everything the pale figure had remarked from the start was different. In fact perhaps even the king alone was in denial that Ulf had truly abandoned them. Perhaps only now did he realize just how much they relied on him, that in his absence. The whole settlement felt like it was stuck in limbo, they didn't have much to plan nor to know what next step to take. Ulf had always been the one who took care of it, they have perhaps indulged too far with certainty the white wold could offer. Now there was nothing to guarantee that they will not perish upon these lands, but perhaps thats where the fault lie in the first place.

Shaking his head slightly, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then a knock returned to the door and it was one of the ladies, she brought porridge and bread for the bedridden blacksmith. Placing it on a nearby table, she bowed her head before the king. "I have brought a few things for you to try and eat, just have a little at least. You'll need to regain your strength." The lady instructed, in which the Jarl took the bowl and spoon to help feed it to the injured warrior.

"Thank you Alia, here. Try to eat it slowly." The low murmur harbored with a spoon of porridge hovering before Agnar's lips. Usually it would have been the strategist himself taking care of such tasks, even if he was usually too busy to hang around. He will always be there to nurse his clan member back to health, spoon feeding them his own cookings. He was smart to utilize a lot of herbs and made some heart wearming stew. He would even tease them just to usher a warm laughter, knowing how rough being bedridden can be. It was odd not to have him around, he was always there when time calls for it. A peculiar inner working of that mind, that not many can hope to decipher.
 
Agnar nodded though he could hear a twinge in the Jarls tone that seemed to say otherwise but he couldnt accept anything else as the truth, not right now, his heart couldnt handle it otherwise. When the food was brought for him he cringed though the smell was tempting the wond he had sustained throbbed almost in protest as the nausea returned. "No offense to you or Alia my Jarl but I fear I cant stomach and solid food right now. The water was enough to nourish me for now" He knew it was a weak excuse but it was also for the most part honest, but he also didnt want to say that his worry for Ulf made him not want to eat either. He was for once completely helpless to do anything even for his clan but especially for Ulf, his burning pained red eyes were all he could see when he closed his own and it haunted him that in the moment he could not pull him in for comfort in those moments. There were just too many regrets floating around in his mind to keep him from relaxing even slightly. "Is the village at least safe? The women and children tucked away? Erik and Freja I know can lead the others with firm resolve. I still dont even know why we went there in the first place...why hes caught up in this scheme of his and what its all for" He sighed as he gripped the necklace in his hand, not realizing the emptiness that would be left behind in his absence. He had to return, he wouldnt just abandon them like this..he wouldnt abandon him like this would he?
 
The jarl sets the bowl down to the side, sighing heavily with that troubled expression knitted his eyebrows. "Very well, but you shouldn't worry yourself with matters at hand. You are injured, the only thing that should concern you is your health." He tries to provide some peace for that troubled mind. But it was clear that regardless of how many white lies he would pour out of his own mouth, the absence of that pale figure burrowed deeply upon their shoulders that it felt too jarring to even ignore. But then came the question that led for those trembling lips to frown even further, a truth he knows not the full answer to. For a moment he would remain silent, as if pondering of what to say. Clasping his palms together, he rubbed his own knuckles lightly before he dared to respond. "I am not aware of the full tale.. but the night my brother returned from his travels to the neighboring clan. He brought home Ulf with him, he was injured and terribly so. It took night and days to even breathe easy, he pulled through but that nasty wound he had. It was inflicted by someone who truly wants him dead. Ulf had shared that it was someone he trusted in the past, someone very close to him." The Jarl explained, trying his best to gather every bit of details he learned.

Then he remembered something, when he was rummaging through his belongings to find some supplies. He found out that the small golden chest that was passed down onto him by the previous jarl was no longer there, he suspected that Ulf had taken it back. Perhaps that alone what instigated these serial of events. "That chest, the locket i showed you. I suppose Ulf had taken it, do you know what did he do with it?" The Jarl questioned, hoping to piece two and two together.
 
It had come to his attention that Agnar had never even thought about it having to do with his origins. He had never opened up about it even to him, and apparently not completely to the Jarl either, how could he have hidden all this painful away for so many years and why now? It gave him a headache trying to think of it all and wondering just how much pain he had been in this whole time. He could recall the look on his face and the way he spoke and knew how to dress and where to go when they had visited the castle. It was all somewhat piecing together in his head as he started to figure that he had to have come from this area years before, it was the only thing he could think of that made sense of this madness. "I cant imagine receiving such a grim wound from a trust family member or friend. There was a man..at the castle that we were tailing. I cant remember very well all that had happened after he stabbed me but I know there was a fuss and Ulf took it personally and that..that man had responded to him with fear." Could he have known him? It was aggravating trying to sort all of this out himself, by no means was he the one best at that and was no problem solver.

"Chest? The chest...oh! I knew I had recalled it from somewhere, yes he brought it with him and gave it to the princess as a gift? We had taken shelter on a balcony when the kind looked upon it. He flew into a rage and demanded where it had come from. For whatever reason it stirred up the chaos that led up to what happened. But why?" He winced as he tried to readjust himself, his body fatigued and sore despite the only wound being in one spot. It felt like the whole night had rattled him down to his bones. One of the woman came in to bring a fresh cloth for his face as she took the dried one away.
 
The jarl was silent, for that exact moment he would be left almost mind boggled, why the strange reaction? What made him took such actions? Then the lion crested upon the locket had reflected the same flag that the opposition troops carried. Since it belonged to The strategist, perhaps he had some ties to the monarchies here. "I have always find it odd how he had always adopted such mannerism despite living with us for almost a lifetime. He knew things far beyond our reach and the enemy here especially well. Their trickery and schemes.. he adopted that same method." He uttered seemingly deep in thoughts, rising from his seat and bowed his head a little to the passer by and began pacing around the room with his fingers stroking his beard. "Perhaps it also has something to do with The woman that my brother had encountered before, do you remember years ago when we were still childrens? We were sailing far north into the cold hoping for a new home to rebuild. But the weather was extremely harsh and our boats were worn down, we would not have survived if that ship did not show up." The jarl recounted a tale far in the early days of the clan, the day a pregnant lady offered them a place in her vehicle.


She was of regal standing, jewelries and blue embroidered fabric adorn her figure. Unlike the woman of their clan, she was delicate with a health as frail as the lilies of the valley. But she harbored them with compassion, not once did she asked any questions. But simply offer them some help regardless of who they are, they didn't even have the same destination but she took the journey and provided them with shelter. Only then did he remember the late Jarl bowed his head to that woman, grateful he was of her kindness after being so far from home. She too worn the same locket albeit it had her unborn child initials carved within, hoping to pass it to him in the future. But that was all he could learn of it, that and the fact that the late Jarl had always favored the white wolf as if it was his own.

If only he shared more of what truly went on behind Ulf's past and origins, but it seems the strategist wanted to keep a tight lid of their secrets. "That woman that saved us wore the same Locket Ulf had in his possession, if it causes such an uproar for those people... She could have ties to the kingdom. Could ulf be of royal blood?" The jarl pondered and felt his mind clicked, The startegist may have been silent. But he had never involved himself with political affairs back then, now he had decided to take matters into his own hand and everything felt especially personal. Ulf did mention of bwing a fraud could his intentions been this very land in the first place? As absurd as ir was, he could only hope to hear the answer from the pale figure himself.
 
Agnar simply lay there, letting the Jarl make his own connections while wondering about all the missing bits of info they had lacked before. But putting their heads and the collected info together truly made everything click in place. It really only made sense that he come from nobility though their time as children was blurry to him at times he did vaguely remember that trip. "I do..I was quite sick at the time and my mother was barely holding it together while everyone else was waiting with bated breath for a glimmer of hope. Though the woman I remember very little off due to my fever" A shiver ran through him, speaking of fevers as he still continued the onslaught of the one he had now. "Hes going to get himself killed if he continues this one man path of revenge" Why now of all times did he have to be bedridden? He had no idea if Ulf would even be alive by the time he was well enough to stand on his own. He could see that white hair of his in battle, his tired angry eyes as he struck down every one of his enemies until he couldnt swing his sword any longer. "Is there truly nothing I can do from my Jarl?"
 
The jarl was silent once more, his expression darkened. Knowing full well of the warning that the pale figure gave them, an all out war isn't exactly desirable. The last thing they wanted was to strain their relationship even more, Ulf pushed them away for a reason and a reason the jarl could sympathize but utterly unsure if he was ready to make the hard decision. "I need time to think, but know that we aren't giving up on him. So stay put and try to recover as much as you can. When i require your presence, we will all march to him." An answer and the only one he could provide for now. Reaching out to lightly pat the warrior's shoulder, a stern look framed his rough features.

"Now get some rest, have a little faith in his strength." He pointed out, knowing that the strategist had atleast managed to survive this far. For a few days surely he will hold on, but the problem was they couldn't send anymore scouts unless they are ready to face the consequences of defying Ulf's warning. He made bid a temporary farewell to the injured warrior and exits the room before gathering both the man and the woman to listen to his words. "Prepare youself, we will soon march to meet our old friend Ulf. However i cannot guarantee that he will perceive us in friendly terms. Train hard, we only have a few days left." He instructed, grimm faces filled their features. But they needed to face this, to tread upon the unknown with bravery has always been their way of life and it is time for them to return and walk that exact path once more. With that, the rest of the warriors and iron maiden began to train their strength. Praying to the king of all gods himself, to be blessed by Odin's sword.
 
The next couple of days went by slowly for Agnar, with him either sleeping restlessly or laying awake in agony as he broke in and out of fevers. At one point he couldn't keep anything down even water and was just throwing it all up but once he cleared the worst of it all he finally managed to be well enough to have the wound sewn shut and him able to get up from bed. Though the ones watching over him would constantly come and and wag their fingers at him until he got back in bed. He sighed, thankful that he was at least in cleaner untorn clothes that weren't covered in blood. But his mind still lingered even when the Jarl told him to push it from his thoughts he couldn't help but keep wondering if Ulf was out there still alive and what the state of the battle was. Surely that man who stabbed him had gone to the king and told him everything including who it was who gave his daughter the box.

When given a other moment of alone time he swung his legs out of bed, feeling almost useless from the days of laying around. But he wanted to feel strong enough to at least walk in his own. When he stood he could feel the pressure of his wound tightening and he hissed in pain for a moment. "Come now...we can't be a bed sore any longer..nows not the time"
 
The counts of days that passes by felt like an eternity to most, but the Jarl wasnt standing idle no. When Ulf leave that day, he had also left behind alot of his belongings. Scarce as they may be, they still provide some information perhaps of the strategist next steps and more on what his ultimate goal was. Again, the problem that arise is that he could not read the hadwriting. But he tried to gather all the woman and man who had atleast more brainpower than the average person combined, they managed to pull out a few and learned of the previous tactics Ulf buried. There were countless names they were not aware of, little sense they make at the moment. One thing for sure, he learned of two names that seemed significant. Arthur William Edinburgh and Henrietta Mallory Edinburgh, it seems the strategist have kept a close eye on both subjects but for what reason remains unknown.

With that information, they were inform just what low tricks the opposition adopts. With the injured warrior as one of the proof they had, adopting a leather armor method that ensure such dirty attacks would not threathen their life. The village was busied with chores and errands as they ready them selves for war, even if it is not immediate. The strategist had taught them to always be ready, especially when they lacked the aid of the great warrior also their very own blacksmith. The Jarl returned to visit their trusted warrior, he caught them getting off the bed. With a slow shake of his head, he let out a deep sigh with a soft smile. More wrinkles had managed to show up on his skin, his attire made ready for the oncoming war or atleast the preparation for such. "Well, I won't stop you. Just be wary not to tear a stitch or freja would tie you down against the bed." The jarl warned, setting his axe down. "How are you feeling? Good enough to walk yet?" Such questions he wanted honesty with, the last thing they want is the other fainting on the road.
 
Agnar nearly jumped from his trousers when the Jarl entered silently. "My Jarl, nearly kill me where I stand with those silent footsteps of yours even in such armor. I should be fine to walk, my body just needed to get used to me being upright. See no blood" He lifted his tunic to show the angry looking wound and deep stitches but all in all it seemed to be infection free thanks to the herbs Freja brought and to the ladies with their swift hands at sewing. "Just let me know what you need of me, armor, weapons I can handle that much. I don't plan on sitting this out, not entirely."

His hand touches the raised scar gently l, accepting that it was just one more to add to his growing collection of mementos for times he could have been killed but his enemy had failed. He needed to be apart from this because he would not accept hearing of Ulf's fate unless he saw it with his own two eyes. He wouldn't tell the Jarl but even if they planned and leaving him behind he would not be far off their trail and he would find Ulf on his own. He knew now that it was just Ulf out there fighting keeping him from coming home but he was pretty sure he wasn't coming back at all. When he had come to that realization the other day it absolutely tore him apart and made him angry at the same time. How could he spout promised to him if he no intentions of holding up his own end? If they were truly meant to go out in battle together than he would make it so
 
The jarl shook his head, instead he turned to call for one of the warriors and they brough Agnar's armor that has been enforced by a special craft of leather. They set it down on the matress beside him, seemingly the King had something else in mind. "We will leave in an hour and ride out to the green scenery, you won't participate in any battle just yet, but I think if there's anyone or old friend would like to see. It would be you drengr." He smiled softly, lightly squeezing their shoulder. At the same time he uttered that, Freja stood not far from the pair and rolled her eyes at them both.

"Well I guess everyone's leaving, But I swear by Odin's shield. I will tie you to the back of the horse if you do anything reckless." She pointed out her irritation but did not fight the Jarl's decision to bring the injured warrior with them. "Here let me help you put them on." Freja extended her aid and the king made his leave as he instructed the warriors to prepare their steed, soon they will march into the very lands they know little of. But this is what truly meant being a true norse folk, perusing through seas and land. With many brave man and women. With most of the raiders are climbing onto the back of their horse, a single left for the healer and the injured warrior to use. The strongest and firecest out of them all, that should things turn awry then it would be able to protect the pair.
 
"Thank you my Jarl, ill do my best to try and be of use without causing trouble" Which was easy for him to say since he was not his more hot headed companion but it was safe to say that given the circumstances he very well could do something that the Jarl would not approve of. When Freja came to insist he smiled at the woman before slipping his tunic off. "When have I ever given you trouble Freja? Though I dont doubt you will easily bring me to my knees should I cause you grief. But dont think I wont put up a little fight" His laugh was deep and wary as she helped him with their newly fashioned protection. Ulf would be proud of his people seeing them all come together like this as they did in their homeland before, Agnar only wished he was also here to join them instead of being somewhere out there in the unknown. When he was done getting the clothing on he readjusted everything himself for comfort and slipped on his boots.

As they all were exiting their dwellings he made sure to make one quick stop when no one was looking, in the direction of Ulfs hut. When he entered he could tell the Jarl had been busy in trying to learn more about his whereabouts and his actions and oh what a mess it was. He could still his lean shoulders slouched over his workbench with his hair glowing in pale candlelight before turning to him to crack some sly joke about dragging him away from his job. The way his hands held his shoulders firmly yet with warmth, and it made the wound in his stomach tighten and scream as he pressed his hand against it. But beside all of that he moved to the mans bed where they had spent the night together not too long ago and curled up in the messy blanket was something he had stayed up and worked on for the man but never had the chance to give it to him. He lifted up a shiny polished curved dagger with engraved runes stuck into and elk horn handle. He pulled the necklace from his pocket and wrapped it around the smoothed out hilt of the dagger before wrapping it into a cloth and stuffing it in a pouch he had secured to his waist. Now was no longer the time for reminiscing but for action and for Agnar to bring him home. He made his way from the hut and quickly made his way to the horses where a familiar chestnut colored male stood waiting for him.
 
There was the apparent tension in the air, silence they carried and the damning fear brewing within their chest with their fingers gripping onto the horse's reins. Soft blow of air, whistles against their hair. With the jarl's instructions, they ran across the marked soil. Wandering far from the settlement, war paint upon their features and a few axes swinging off their figures. Such sight from afar would usher a few hooded silhouettes to emerge from the darkness before disappearing once more into thin air. The warriors continued to venture further into the open, where the green plantations entered their vision and it seems chestnut would hurry to defeat the other horses in speed. This caused quite the surpse for Freja as she tried to slow it down, she didnt allow Agnar to ride alone and so she was the one holding the reins. Yet it seems to ignore her instructions, further they went and the closer they approached that stone fortress.

A sight that would be familiar to the blacksmith as it was the same one Ulf captured with his aid. The hooded figures stood upon the walls, watching in silence as the flock of viking warriors approached the fort. They opened the gates for them, allowing entry despite clearly the troops and soldiers that roamed the premises were all staring with a dark expression at the warriors. The air was thick with hostility, reminding the Jarl that their presence wasn't exactly wanted. With that, Asmund stepped down from his steed. Two figures approached him, Lord Evans and a female knight with a dove embroidered into her cape. They both looked troubled and the Lord was quick to ask the Jarl and the others to leave. "I do not mean to insult you, but you should all leave now! It is not safe for you to remain here." The tone of desperation filled his erratic words as he had pleaded for the warriors to heed his pleas.

This would cause for those rough features to wrinkle, Asmund poured out his words loud and clear. "We are here to speak with the white wolf." Firm voice carried his words, it echoed into the air and was met with the familiar voice from above. "And you wouldn't leave till He entertains you." Were the words that dark hooded figure uttered as they stood upon the tower. Far above then anyone can think to reach, the dark leather cape brushes against the wind as he leaped from the heights. The warriors watched in fear, even the jarl would jump on his feet. But the figure emmerge from the shadows and stood before the warriors, pale strands peeked from his cowl.

He pulled the fabric down and revealed the very features of the many they had known as the white wolf. However this time, one of his eyelids were closed with a large scar crossing the eye socket, along with small fresh cuts on his cheeks. His gaze was cold, dull and distant, with little words to spare for the clan he had seperated himself from. "So you have decided to go against my warnings, not that i expected anything less. Do you truly want to test my patience?" A question that poured out of those pale lips firmly, the familiar grin had long disappeared and only a cold frown framed his face.
 
Surprisingly the house did not fight him as it had at one point, easily allowing him to mount and join the others. Of course Freja would keep a watchful eye on him, not letting him ride too far or fast without her say. For a short while he allowed this but the itch in his hands as he gripped the reigns he could hold made him antsy and impatient. Granted he knew they needed to be cautious going into lands unknown and into a situation most all of them were unaware of save for the Jarl and Agnar. But the unknown right now was not what he feared, not the unknown enemies or the paths before them but the looming heavy air over him that screamed to run and face the unknown threat that has befallen his friend.

At some point he couldn't take it much more and as he ushered the horse forward all he could hear was Frejas threats as she had to follow besides him and this stead paid her. I mind as well, they were both in tune to get there as quickly as possible. His ever greying hair whipping around as he passed most of the others and at some point even the jarl for a moment as the stronghold came into view from which he slowed down, his anxiety making him stop in his tracks. His eyes darkening even against the overcast sky as his lips pursed and his hands trembled. Eventually the other had caught up and started to pass him and Freyja with a disgruntled and agitated look in her eyes helped move the horse forward when Agnar could not.

While the others gripped their weapons with the shadowed men approaching but Agnar held steady and didn't waver though the trembling didn't quite stop. Even when Lord Evans familiar face appeared he still felt no reassurance, his eyes only scanning for one person in particular. And when that familiar voice broke the arguing towards the front his heart nearly jumped from his chest and broke at just about the same time. It wasn't just the fresh scars building on his pale skin but the look in his one good eye that he could see. It was like the man he had known had been ripped right out of him, and he could feel the gutteral painful choke rise in his throat as he did his best to hold in his emotions. But they were raging like an uncontrolled blaze or like the savage storm torn seas that threatened to capsize his boat at any moment. Freja tried to stop him as he dismounted his horse.

"Lagsmær!"
His voice cracked as he raised it just enough to be overheard the feud between him and the Jarl, the words coming out of him as the threat of tears stung his eyes. Those same eyes that wouldn't tear away from the cloaked man in front of him. His hair was disheveled from the days spend in bed healing and his skin was lacking it's usual color and care free smile. The words he could hear coming from him stirred an anger in him he didn't expect to feel and the emotions in his heart tried to claw and tear away at that anger before he did something stupid. But sadly he was not a rational man, no not like Ulf was and this time he had no one to hold him back. His footsteps were heavy and sure as he quickly closed the distance between them. In an instant he had his fists gripping his cloak, knocking the hood back from his head as he pulled him close so he was practically in his face. His eyes brewed like thundering skies as he searches the one pale red eye in front of him, his breathing heavy and quivering as his hands trembled with the leather clutched between them. Did he want to punch him? Surely to knock some sense into him but he as he went to move his arms he found them doing something completely different. One hand pulled him in close while the other held the back of his head as his fingers ran through those snowy strands, engulfing him into an embrace that was firm and scared. He didn't even care if they had dozens of other eyes in them his whole body shuddered with the relief that he was at least not dead in a ditch somewhere. When he finally managed to speak again it was almost a whisper that threatened to break at any moment as he sighed into whispy hair.
"What are you doing to yourself..."
 
That one crimson bead had soften upon seeing the warrior approaching him on his own accord, however The pale figure was as still as a statue. For the absence of his smile had long ushered the very same dull expression to return, cold gaze followed each of those heavy footsteps. Pale strands brushed against the wind and lay upon that skulking figure who is now standing before him, the blank expression formed his features. He was perhaps expecting a punch? Or perhaps he has foresaw that embrace? None could tell, but he did not flinch and kept his stature frozen. Warmth soon wrapped around his flesh, only silence filled his throat. For the injured blacksmith reek the stench of their own blood, yet such gentleness to grace his presence had left him motionless.

A question remained upon their lips, one that he would only answer with a callous tone for such trivial concern according to his mind. "Nothing that wasn't worth sacrificing for.. though I doubt you're one to talk of such matters." Ulf uttered softly, he remained as is. Did he wanted to reciprocate their affection? But he did not reject them either. But it seems his mind was already set in pulling his affairs far from the warriors that he had turned his back on. If he were to go further than this then he might not be able to continue with his plan any longer. "You see that I am still alive for your own eyes, that should at least put your mind at ease." He murmured such remarks that felt cold upon those pale lips.
 
Agnar felt the breath catch in his throat, his body going cold from head to toe. The stitched wound in him burning just as harshly as his heart was breaking. He was seeing him with his own eyes, holding him here in his arms hoping to see that same cocky smile and brooding eyes. But instead it was like holding an ice block, there was no movement from him that seemed like he was happy to be reunited once again and each word from his lips only knocked him farther down. He even felt that he would rather be stabbed once more than to feel the pain he was experiencing now. One thing he didn't realize how badly he missed to hear was his fond name he called him often. There was absolutely none of that left in the man he was holding.

His arms slowly released him as he took a shaky step back towards his clans group. The quiet being broken by murmurs and rustling hours and armor.
"I-I...None of this has out me at ease.. put any of us at ease. I..we, we came to bring you home Ulf to think about this together."
His words were getting lost in the flood of emotions that were starting to drown him, choking him as he tried to find a place to breathe. Why did he have this hold in him like he did? Had he always made him feel this way? Maybe he had and Agnar was truly only coming to his senses now that it felt he had lost him. It was all too much for him right now to sort out, he winced as he clutched his wound gently but trying to do so in a matter that was hidden by his cloak.
"Why push your clan aside? Me aside? I know you have secrets, secrets you don't want to tell me and injuries you don't want to revisit but i-"
He didn't know how to finish his sentence, or maybe he did but he didn't have the bravery to say it out loud. To say that he wanted to be there for him through it all. But those frozen pools in his eye simply brought him to his knees as it practically drove a sharp axe between the two.

Erick came up to him to offer a shoulder if needed, it wasn't hard to see that the warrior before him though usually as steady as a mountain was crumbling before his eyes.
"Agnar brother, breathe, don't stress your wound you haven't fully recovered yet"
His words were hushed just enough but Ulf being as close as he was could probably still hear them. Eriks eyes moved to Ulf with a look that was hurt and confusion tied into his tensed face and body.
 
Once more those words flew through the wind and harbored its claws deep within the his heart. A silence that glistens upon those boodied crimson, blurring his narrowed vision. Closing the only eye left that he could see from, the dark circle under his eyes were clear to see. Pale lashes lay damp and reflected the glass like reflection off the sun, it hung low upon the ever slight trembling ruby withi that weary features. A thin and tired smile pulled those chapped lips, there was warmth in his expression and yet a sense of pain he kept deep under wraps. Every so often, one could almost see a drop of tear to be shed and yet it was nowhere to be found. The longer he displayed this expression, the heavier the crushing weight suffocating his chest.

Once more he took their hand into his and draped it over his shoulders, allowing the warrior to lean his weight against him. "Well, at the very least you should have waited a bit longer. Your injury isn't something to be taken lightly." Ulf uttered sofftly, a whisper of both warmth yet scratchy within his cold throat. The grin he wore felt heartwrencching that even the jarl's had darkened. Every moment he managed to lock his eye with those light colored beads, it would seem to invoke the ocean to emmerge and yet only a trembling rose colored marble remained. "But you cannot stay for this is not your fight to wage, it never was from the very beginning." The white wolf pointed out, a truth he had held back for years. One that he had indeed prepared for should it backfired at him and yet.. it did not make it any easier regardless.
 
He was thankful for Erik in that moment because he was sure had any time passed longer he would have collapsed right then and there and he had promised he could handle himself if he wanted to come along. But it was the hand that suddenly took his, that made him tremble like the very ground below him would cave beneath the old man's heavy heart. Even still it felt so normal and so comforting have Ulf where he usually was, at his side and like always giving him grief about something he didn't like that Agnar has done. But he has to hold back taking the mans face in his hand, even when they would kick eyes. But unlike Ulf Agnar didn't have the control he had in this moment and the burning tears that pressed at his eyes early fell in large droplets as if they were filled to the brim from being held in for so long.
"You don't understand do you? Had I been able to stand on my own I would have been after you that same night. I never would have let you go alone. I would beat death time and again if that's what I had to do."

He still had so much he wanted to say but it was not the time nor the place, yet he feared he would not have more time.
"And I made this my fight when I chose to join you, when I took that dagger to my stomach. You can't push me out now.."
Though the clever man before him might have been able to hide from anyone else he couldn't hide it from him. He reached up to swipe some of the hidden tears from his feathery lashes. It was eating at him that he looked so little like himself, even after days at his desk would he still look better than this. He probably wasn't eating like he should either not with him nor Freja being there to harass him about his health.
 
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