Koll Svansson

Davvas

Brynhild Orirdottir

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" I gasped as loudly as I could while I struggled to keep my eyes open.

But the dragon that was holding me to its chest, shielding me from the hot rain and the view of other the dragons, only stared down at me with bright yellow eyes, it's green scales glistening from being wet in the evening light.

I closed my eyes and tried not to focus on the pain as I kept pressure on the wound on my side. Blood seeped through my fingers with each breath. But I was losing energy; my breathing became labored as my body began to ache. I winced when the dragon moved, its warm scales lightly scraping against my skin. It made a rumbling growl deep in its chest, nearly shaking the whole earth

I reached up with a shaky hand and patted its trunk like arm that wrapped around me, leaving a smear of stark red blood on its green scales. "Shhh, just leave me. You have no reason to protect me."

But whether it didn't understand me or it decided to ignore me, the dragon shifted again making me cry out as I fell into its open claw. Searing hot pain exploded from my side and tears fell down my warm cheeks. Copper filled my mouth as I kept back another scream. With my free hand, I clutched onto one of the talons, my eyes blinking back tears.

"Stop, wait," I gasped, "what are you doing?"

Suddenly air filled my lungs and my eyes were forced shut as a strong wind threatened to pull me out of the dragon's claws. The sound of powerful wings told me I was being lifted into the air, not tossed about like a plaything. I gripped onto the dragon as best I could, my mind slowly drifting as we climbed higher into the air.

My eyes would peek open every now and then, letting me know that what I was seeing was real. But soon the pain in my side became too much, the blood now dripping down the side of the dragon's claw. My head lulled back and my hand on my wound slowly unclenched. Flashes of the Purple Dragon that nearly killed me filled my mind, it's starry wings foreshadowing my dark fate. Its teeth flashed and its talons slashed as it raced after me, my screams doing nothing but likely encouraging it to hunt me down. Pain anew grew inside me as my mind momentarily relived the instant its mighty power drove its claws across my back, one of its talons piercing my side.

Wind tugged at my hair and pulled at my clothes but I felt no chill. My hand slipped from its talons and fell back to dangle lifelessly as I let the darkness that I had tried so hard to keep at bay consume my mind, body, and soul, as I left what was left to me in the hands of fate.

~~~~~

"Sire, she is waking up."

I turned to the old healer, her tired eyes filled with worry and curiosity. "Will she live?"

"That is up to her. Come, she is decent."

I followed the Gafalda to the healer's tent just down the way, the river that supplies our fresh water separating the two halves of the camp, the healthy and the ill. An unknown sickness has been taking over our people. With our King, my brother, gone to look for a means to survive, I have been tasked with making the decisions. Taking the healer away from her duties to the sick villagers was not taken lightly, but Davvas was quite convincing. My dragon had never been one to take kindly to the other humans so seeing him so protective of her gave me reason to give her precedence over the others.

Gafalda opened the tent flap and I was immediately met by the smell of garlic, animal skins, and burning herbs. The stench of death and illness nowhere to be found. My eyes trained on the girl, her body all but fully submerged in animal furs. Her face was flushed and her hair stuck to her damp skin. The light of the candles flickering off her long brown hair that was in a loose braid curled up next to her head. She looked to be no older than fifteen.

I watched as Gafalda took a cloth and dipped it in a basin of water, wringing it out before placing it on the girl's forehead. She reacted to the cold water but did not wake.

I took a step closer nodding to her resting form. "Wake her."

Gafalda looked up at me with surprise. "She is still weak."

"Wake her," I repeated, my eyes never leaving the girl's face.

Without any more questions, the healer placed a hand on the girl's cheek and another on her shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Våk opp, barnet," Gafalda whispered.

The girl stirred, her head moving from side to side as her eyes slowly flickered open. Ice blue eyes looked around the tent until they landed on Gafalda. They widened and she sucked in a breath, leaning away from her as she tried to sit up. But she winced in pain even as Gafalda tried to tell her to lay back down.

I shook my head as I stepped forward. "Be still. You will open your wound."

The girl looked to me, seeing me for the first time. Her blue eyes stared widely at me, looking me over before she looked to Gafalda again. She doesn't seem to relax but she began to lay back down again, her face pinching with pain.

Gafalda nodded, covering up the girl again, the blankets having slipped to reveal her wrapped chest, a large red spot soiling the bandage under her left rib cage down and around her side most likely looking just as red in the back. I knew her to be injured but it looked as though she was run through. I looked away, clearing my throat and sniffing loudly. The healer scoffed, waving me closer.

"Come and ask your questions before I have her moved to my tent. She is not ill and I need this bed for the others. Make it quick."

With that, I was left alone with the girl, though I knew Gafalda was just outside the tent, her ear to the fabric in hopes of catching even a snippet of our conversation. I shook my head as I looked at the girl, her hair no longer sticking to her face, the color having returned to her cheeks.

I swept my cloak and robes as I came to sit on a stool beside the bed, though I made sure to keep my distance.

"Can you speak?"

She didn't reply but instead kept her cold eyes locked on mine. My skin prinked under her intent gaze, her knuckles growing white as she clutched the blanket to her.

"Can you understand me?" I asked with a slightly harsher tone.

This time she moved, sitting up against the stake post behind her so she was sitting up. I caught myself reaching out to help her as she winced in pain but kept my hands back once she got herself settled.

"Can you speak?" I tried again, my eyes narrowing. "Do you speak another language?"

"Do you do more than ask questions?" Came her reply as she leaned her head back against the post, her eyes still focused on me.

I blinked at the sound of her voice but I did not let it show that she sounded far younger than I had assumed. "Yes. I do."

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes I do understand you and clearly I can speak." She sucked in a breath through her teeth and closed her eyes for a moment. "If you want to know why I'm here ask your dragon."

I brows rose as I scooted a bit closer. "How do you know Davvas is my dragon."

"If not given away by the fact you called it by name than by the way it holds itself. You both act the same."

"And how is that?"

She opened one eye before shrugging one shoulder. "Why do you care? You're just going to kill me, your highness. Probably once the King returns. Maybe before. Depends on how valuable I can be to you."

My eyes widened. Gone was the skittish girl from before. Now sat a woman who clearly had more bravery than half my men. She wasn't slow of mind either, her eyes picking up everything around her, including my royal seal on my cloak clasp. I leaned forward on my knees.

"And how valuable can you be? My dragon risked a hunting trip, supplies for him and the village, to save you. Why?"

Again, she shrugged one shoulder, though it seemed to cause her pain. "I know not. I am not your dragon. I haven't had many encounters with them. But when I do they don't go so well."

"Is that how you got hurt?"

She seemed to sag as she answered. "Yes," she replied quietly, "They chase me for some reason. Ever since I was little, dragons were drawn to me. But for the past two years, I had not run into one for a while, so I had hoped I had grown out of it." She shifted, pulling the wolf coat closer to her chin. "But it seems the larger ones now find me to be some sort of sport."

My eyes narrowed as I sat back, my hand falling to my hilt. "They will follow you here then."

Her eyes opened and for a split second I saw fear but it was quickly covered by indifference, a shield I am quickly learning to be her facade.

"You are Vikings. They are known to be in fellowship with dragons. You will find it an advantage to have the purple dragon on your side."

I stood. "The what?" My voice came out in a low breath.

Her brows pinched as she looked at me strangely. "The purple dragon. That was the one that struck me." She moved an arm free of the blanket and pointed to her side.

I shook my head. "Are you certain it was The Purple Dragon?"

She waved her hand about. "Yes, it was a purple dragon. But I am sure there are more than one roaming the earth."

"No, you do not understand. There is ONE Purple dragon. THE Purple Dragon. It not knows your scent. It will follow you here."

Her hand limply fell into her lap as she just stared at me. But the glint of candlelight on silver drew my attention to her hand. She wore a ring and my heart leapt.

"You are no Viking," I whispered.

"I am as much a Viking as you are! It was not my fault my hunting party was killed and I was left to die."

My eyes drew away from her jeweled hand and back to her face. "What clan?"

She raised her chin, her eyes steel cold. "Honenmier's Clan of Skjebne."

"Lies," I hissed as I reached out, taking hold of her hand, bringing the ring closer to me.

"Unhand me!" she cried, trying to withdraw her hand, but I held fast.

I lifted her hand for her to see, the ring reflecting the glow of the candles into her eyes. "You are no Honenmier," anger filled my blood, "where did you get this ring?"

With surprising strength she regained her hand, pressing it to her chest. "I have always had it. What importance does a ring of steel have to you? Do you always accost women who hold better jewels than you?"

I ignored her jabs of insult but narrowed my eyes as I pointed to her. "You either stole it or killed the man who wore it."

At that she sat up all the way, the blanket falling to around her waist, showing her wrapped chest again but this time blood dripped from the reopened wound. But she did not show to be in any pain as she leveled her gaze with mine. She aged again as her eyes filled with rage.

"I speak the truth when I say this ring is mine. I have had it since the day my FATHER was killed while defending a group of thankless Vikings from ravaging dragons. His dying words were for me to have it and to never take it off. I have been faithful to his wish since that moment. So yes, I suppose I did take it and from a dying man at that."

I raised my chin, looking down at her as best I could as she sat up on her knees. "What is your name?"

Her braid fell from in front her shoulder to behind her back as she lifted a hand to lay on her heart, her voice strong as she spoke. "I am Brynhild Orirdottir, my father was Orir Harismojre keeper of the Gates and a valiant hero."

I could not help but smirk. That damn bastard had a child after all.

Now I could see the resemblance. The brown hair and blue eyes, the bold brows and sharp jaw. Though I was only a young boy, I could never forget the face of a Master Dragon Tamer from a line of Legends. It was after I was given Davvas that Old Orir decided to go into hiding and settle down. My father was distraught, his bitter anger at losing his Dragon Tamer driving him into the ground. I grew up not knowing what had happened to him, but was taught to look out for him should he be needed again.

But as it seems, he was the one to find me instead. Indirectly. No wonder Davvas was so eager.

"Your father was smart to change his name." I finally commented, my voice coming out lighter than I had intended.

Brynhild narrowed her eyes in confusion, her father's brows furrowing as she fell back onto the bed. "Change his name?"

I nodded, taking a step forward. "I grew up knowing him to be the Dragon Tamer, Storick Haddock. He comes from a long line of Dragon Tamers who were one in the same as royalty." I reached up and took my royal crest off of my clasp and placed it on a table, my eyes flickering to the woman. "Therefore that makes you,"

"Royalty?" She breathed, her eyes glazed over and her face grew white.

My stomach dropped as she began to sway on her knees. Quickly I reached out and grasped her shoulder and her waist, gently helping her back on the bed. But my hand drew away warm and sticky. I looked and found her bandage to be soaked through, her blood falling onto the bed pelts.

"Gafalda!" I called.

Not a second later the old healer came rushing in, her face pinched in worry as she muttered something about pushy men and stubborn royalty. I backed away but did not leave as a hand reached for mine, lightly holding me where I stood. I looked back and found the Haddock princess looking at me with half laden eyes, her cheeks flushed and her fever returned.

"Then you know why the dragons-" she winced in pain, her hand clutching mine as Gafalda tended to her.

But I understood. I nodded, trapping her hand between both of mine. "Rest. I shall return." Gently I placed her hand beside her then bowed deeply. "Your Highness."

Then I quickly left, giving her privacy though a part of me wished to stay and ask after her father. I wished to know more of his techniques and learnings that he no doubt passed onto her. But seeing the shock and how that information had affected her, I wished to not push her. I still needed to know all that she knew about The Purple Dragon, Kafalla.

She was a deadly enemy and yet the key as to why all the dragons were disappearing. Every year their numbers grew smaller and smaller until there were only five dragons left in the village, the others having died or there being no more to train with the other Dragon Warriors.

I stared down at my hand red with Brynhild's blood. A cry from the healing tent made me frown. I closed my hand into a fist and let out a slow breath as I slowly walked away to my own tent. My mind was filled with many questions that needed answering. But that would have to wait until she was well enough to speak again.

But for her sake as well as mine, I hoped she would be well before too long, for my brother was to return in one week's time. And I had hoped to have a plan formulated and ready to present to him before he was given time to reject the idea to once more build the bond between Vikings and Dragons, again.

~~~~~

"He is not always so...brash," Gafalda sighed as she tied off Brynhild's chest wrap. "He is the kinder of the two brothers."

I nodded, my eyes closed as I laid an arm over my eyes. "He is just looking out for his people. I put them at risk by being here. And what with my real family..."

"Shhh now, no use in troubling your young mind while you heal. Focus on regaining your strength. A lot has happened to you in such a short period of time."

The old healer braided my long hair into a neater plait and gave me a drink and a cool cloth to set on my brow before she left me to rest. But rest was the last thing I would be getting. My mind kept me awake as well as my pains. But when I did fall asleep, nightmares made it near impossible to get anything short of restful.

For three days I struggled to sleep. Thankfully, I was able to cope with my new surroundings and situation far better than I had initially thought I would. It was just before dawn on the third day when I gave up on sleep and let my pain drive me from my confinement. My fever had broken but I was still considerably weak. But I did not let that stop me from getting some sort of exercise and fresh air.

Taking one of the large blankets with me, I left the healer's tent and followed the stream to the side of the rock face at the edge of a cliff. Picking a relatively flat boulder to sit on, I closed my eyes and took deep, concentrated breaths as I stilled my heart and my mind from all the days of worrying over dragons, Viking royalty, and brooding King Brothers.

The King Brother as I decided to call my scowling host, seeing as how I did not know his name, only came in one time to speak to me. Had Gafalda not been there I was sure he would have interrogated me about my father and/or The Purple Dragon. Thankfully he kept his comments curt and impersonal, making it all the easier to dismiss him when he rudely left.

But now I almost wished for his questions. Anything to either take my mind off of my pain or enlighten me of my newly found lineage. Orir Hannock was my father but yet...wasn't. I shook my head and let out a breath, some of my hair falling into my face as I looked down.

Over the cliff edge was a sizable pond. A part of me was thankful I had grown up by the sea making the need to swim to clear my mind so readily available to me. But part of me hated it for it made me spoiled. Just seeing the small area of water made me yearn for home and what was once there.

A blow of cold air rudely reminded me of the coming winter and how ill-prepared I was for it. I pulled my blanket tightly around me, burying my face in my arms. Just as I was about to get up and hurry as fast as I could to my tent to warm up, a heavy but incredibly warm cloak was placed around my shoulders.

I looked up, my eyes falling on the face of my host. He didn't smile but he didn't scowl either. I took that as a good sign and nodded for him to join me on the large rock, tugging at the cloak around me. Wordlessly he sat next to me but kept his distance despite the cold.

Dawn was just starting to break as the two of them sat silently, soaking in the morning light that painted the sky in bright oranges, pinks, and purples. Brynhild glances over at him, his long hair tossing slightly in the gentle breeze.

"I wish I could tell you what you want to know," I spoke softly, my eyes trained on the sky, clouds rolling in from the west as rain started to sound in the distance.

I felt him look at me before he, too, looked towards the incoming storm. "How old were you when he passed?" His voice was filled with nothing short of reverence as he spoke.

"I was thirteen. One would think ten years would be long enough to let the past be the past but I find it hard to let go of the man who raised me to be who I am."

His clothes rustled as he turned to face me, a hand on one knee as he leaned on his elbow on the other. "What of your mother?"

I glanced at him before picking at a dry leaf that blew onto my lap. "She died three days after my seventh birthday. The plague is not kind even to healers."

He nodded, looking at nothing in particular as he flicked his eyes to me every so often. "I am sorry for your loss. I lost my mother and father to the illness."

"A common phrase, I fear."

Again, the two of us fell silent. I was grateful he did not press me more about my father. Bringing him up again proved harder than I had thought it would. A crash of thunder shook the ground making the two of us look to the storm. It's thick clouds and sheets of rain looked beautiful against the backdrop of a new day. I shivered again, pulling the cloak closer.

After a stretch of time watching the sun break the horizon, The King Brother spoke, nearly making me jump.

"You knew me to be royalty but not the king. How?"

I nearly smirked. "Your pendant. You were wearing it upside down. I should think a king would be more attentive to the position of his should he decide against a crown."

I couldn't help myself as I spared a glance at him. I smiled briefly as I cough his cheeks turning red under his brown whiskers. He looked at me and my smile grew as I looked away, his laughing baby blue eyes nearly gray as the coming storm. Suddenly a part of me wanted to see him smile, truly smile as well as hear him laugh.

I spoke to distract myself. "Does he?"

"Hmm?"

I turned to him again, pointing to my head. "Does your brother wear a crown?"

He shook his head, scratching his beard. "No. Robes and pendants are easier to look after than precious jewels."

"Perhaps when your brother returns, you should invest in a crown. They are harder to wear upside down."

All he did was nod, his smile gone from his eyes. His face returned to brooding, lines creased in his brow. My shoulders fell and I looked back to the sky, the storm having nearly taken over the bright sun, slowly casting us in shadow. I should have known speaking of the king would be a sore subject. Father always told me I had a tendency to take my jesting too far.

"The Purple Dragon," I began, surprised at my own words as they left my mouth, but I let my thought continue, "she was angry. Burned with fire. Do you know why she chased after me?"

I found it strange that I was the one who was speaking, bringing up what I knew he wished to talk about. But my hesitancy vanished as the King Brother moved closer to me, but only slightly.

"Kafalla," he said lowly. "She is feared not only by humans but dragons alike."

"Why?"

"She is the reason most of the dragons are missing. She either kills them or enlists them into her horde. For what, I know not, but what I do know is that we are defenseless without her. With only Davvas and I and three other rider teams, our village could be subject to attack by other villages with far more dragons who see our bountiful land as bounty worth plundering."

At that, the ground suddenly shook but not with thunder. The ground shook again and I found myself unsteady on the rock, nearly falling off. But I was caught by strong arms and warm hands, holding me still as the two of us turned to see Davvas having landed behind us. Almost as if he knew we were talking about him. With large steps he drew closer until he came to lay down at his rider's side, wrapping his head around to lay before me. His golden yellow eyes stared up at me, so I gave him a small smile with a little wave.

Thunder crashed as Davvas lifted one of his wings and created a sort of shelter from the small bits of rain that had begun to fall. I looked up and around at Davvas' wing, the thing but deceptively strong membrane casting a green glow about us. It became much warmer. I then remembered the King Brother and his arms around me. Slowly I pulled away, my mind playing bat what he had just told me of my attacker.

I stroked Davvas' wing, finding his rough scales to be oddly comforting against my skin. The smell of rain made me take a deep breath, my chest feeling light. I looked down at Davvas and patted the part of his head I could reach.

"Thank you for saving me," I whispered. I then turned to look at the man beside me, not missing his soft gaze as he erased the small smile at seeing me interact with his dragon. "Can nothing be done? About Kafalla, I mean."

He stared at me as he decided whether it was wise to tell me what he had already thought up. I didn't know I was holding my breath until I saw spots and nearly fell again. I blinked as I tried to catch myself, the cloak falling down from my shoulders. Again, hands took hold of me, keeping me steady. The pain in my side was nearly unbearable, though I hadn't noticed it until now.

"You are tired. You must rest."

His voice was gentle and nearly kind making me blink to make sure it was still him. I shook my head slightly as the two of us stood, the world swaying beneath me. I was grateful for his steady hands and solid chest for if not for them I would have been a heap on the floor. But I grasped onto his arms, my head leaning on his chest as my cheeks felt flush and my breathing started to hurt again.

"I cannot for another moment be trapped in that tent. Gafalda is a wonderful healer but the stench of oils and burning herbs may be the reason I lack the rest I need to be well again."

His chest vibrated and my hair moved as he let out a breath through his nose, his silent laugh making me look up at him. His eyes were filled with something close to amusement as he reached up and moved some hair that had stuck to my forehead and cheeks.

"That is why I had a small tent set up for you."

"Is it far?" I whispered, my knees starting to shake from only what I could guess was fatigue.

"Right beside mine. In case you should like to be the keeper of my royal pendant and its placement."

I tried to smile but I was sure it came out as more of a wince. "Thank you," I whispered as I leaned my head against his chest again.

He only nodded. Then he reached down and grabbed his robe, wrapping it around me again before he placed an arm around my waist and started to slowly lead me to my new tent.

The whole of the village should have been aglow with light like a fire, warm and inviting, but the overcast clouds commandeered they sky, throwing a dark shroud of damp cold and blistering winds.

My hair tossed about as we struggled to make it to the protection of the densely placed tents, Davvas doing his best to shield us thought he was too large to fit between the homes. King Brother turned and shouted for Davvas to go to his cave and take cover, this storm looked to be a big one.

I huddled against his chest and nearly fell a few times until he decided to pick me up and rush me to the tent. Once inside I instantly felt warmer, a small fire in the middle and candles placed on tables lighting up the room. A bed in the corner was covered in furs, my clothes and a new pair of shoes placed at the foot of the bed.

I wiped the rain from my face and shivered as I stepped closer to the flames. We dried for a moment but he looked eager to leave. I tried not to let it affect me, surely he taught me a burden and a bother. He ran a hand through his wet hair and nodded to me, his clothes dripping to the ground, a few drops hissing in the fire.

"Will you be alright? Do you need me to send for Gafalda?"

I nodded then reached for the bottom of my tunic and lifted it just enough to check my bandage. It was red but only just a small area, the pain bothering me more than the blood. I looked back at him, dropping my shirt.

"Yes, I will be alright. Thank you for,"I looked around the tent and gestured to all of it, "this."

He nodded. "I must go check on the other villagers. Should you need for anything place that white strip of cloth on the outside of your tent pillar, I will see it."

I looked to where he gestured a thick strip of white cloth laid on a small table. Then he turned to leave. My eyes widened and I reached for the cloak around my shoulders, talking it off as I called out to him.

"Wait, your cloak."

He turned, his eyes looking me over before he reached up and stopped me, placing the edge of the cloak back on my shoulder.

"Keep it. I am already wet. And cold," he said, his beard twitching in a small smile.

I lifted a corner of my lips in return. But then he reached for the flaps of the tent, the rain falling in thick sheets making it hard to see past a few steps forward.

"Wait, one more thing."

I winced, seeing his annoyance though he tried to hide it. I nodded my head to him, my brows raised.

"You know my name but I do not believe you gave me yours."

His shoulders dropped with relief as his eyes relaxed with understanding. "Koll. Koll Svansson, second son of King Svan, honor to his name, and brother to King Hakon."

I smiled a bit more, his recited title hardly necessary. I bowed my head slightly then smiled up at him.

"Nice to meet you, Koll. I shall watch over your cloak."

Koll stood for just a moment, just looking at me, before he nodded, as he always does then left, leaving me in a warm tent with a buzzing headache. Slowly I found my bed and sat down, holding my head in my hands. The rain pelted the tent and thrashed about the fabric and animal skin walls. But it calmed me, the thunder massaging my aching muscles, the cold soothing my growing fever, and the sound of the rain drowning out my racing thoughts.

Gently, I laid myself down on the bedding, closing my eyes as I slowed my breathing. I knew not how long I had laid there when I heard sounds of movement around me. Voices soft and quick, feet padding the ground. A hand withered pressed to my cheek then a harsh reprimand sounded, a deeper voice answering in concern.

I tried to open my eyes but they would not obey me. I tried again only to get a glimpse of baby blue eyes framed by dark hair before my eyes closed and my consciousness faded. But not before I felt a much softer hand bush my cheek, a soothing voice filling my ears.

"God natt kjære."

~~~~~~~

Two weeks and my brother has yet to return. I had not heard a single whisper of his whereabouts despite the several scouts I have tasked with finding them. It was almost like they had vanished. Though I knew him to be a proficient fighter and strongly constituted, that did not stay my worries or the thoughts of the worst happening to him.

But Hakon was not the only one on my mind.

Brynhild had been sick for nearly a week after the first falls of the rain, the wet season having come early this year. But with her wound and the shock of her true parentage, I was wrong to assume she would be safe from illness. But she was strong and demanded to be outside at least once a day.

Gafalda was more than perturbed at seeing her patient sick, blaming me for letting her out in the rain. She was not the only one to place that blame, my mind racing with ideas to show my resentment at not taking better care of her.

But now she has been free of any ailments for nearly a week now, yesterday having been her first day out of Gafalda's constant watch. Brynhild, I quickly learned, was quite beautiful when the light of the morning hit her chestnut hair as she walked out of her tent and smiled into the sun.

Though she says her wound did not ail her, I was not blind. Slight winces and sharp intakes of breath told me she was not fully healed. However, I was not surprised. Hakon, too, held a wound made by Kafalla that despite being nearly five years old, bled from time to time, aching with the changes of the seasons.

I was pulled from my thoughts as my tent flaps opened and Brynhild walked in, her ice blue eyes bright with heath and rest.

"King Brother, good, you are up. Has the scouting party with Gagaffa found anything?" She asked as she strode over to met me at my desk that was strewn with papers and maps.

I had to tear my eyes away from her slightly rosy cheeks and her bright eyes to look back at my map.

"No. As the same with yesterday and the day before, and the day before that." I racked a hand through my long knotted hair. "Davvas cannot find anything either. It is like he-"

Brynhild's hand came to rest on my arm, drawing my eyes up her arm and to her face where she all but scowled at me.

"He did not vanish. He traveled far. Perhaps he stayed in Castenfell longer than anticipated."

I just stared at her, my eyes searching for some reason, any reason, as to why she would be comforting me. Why she would want to instill hope that can do no more than dash my dreams and bring heartbreak.

Her head tilted to the side slightly, her brows pinching, creating a small crease above her nose that made me want to reach up and smooth it away. Her hand slid down my arm and came to a stop on my hand, her slender fingers wrapping around it.

"Koll?" She said quietly, taking a step forward. "What is it that you are not telling me?" She reached up and moved a fallen hair out of my face, her fingers trailing down my beard cheek, leaving behind warmth and goosebumps. "What is going on in that head of yours."

I looked into her eyes, my heart starting to hammer in my chest. The sound of Davvas' wings above us made me close my eyes and shake my head. Turning my hand slightly, I let Brynhild's hand fall into it, my fingers curling around her small hand. I shook my head as I spoke.

"Hakon has hardened his heart to dragons of any kind, Davvas not being enough to sway him into understanding their importance in our lives." I opened my eyes glanced at her but only for a moment before looking down at our clasped hands. "I had hoped there would be a sign, a blessing from the Gods that there would be something to change his mind. That was why I was nearly angry when you arrived. I could not believe my eyes. My luck."

I turned to her and reached for her other hand, lifting her ring into the light of the lanterns, moving it around her finger. I moved my gaze to her face where I saw tears nearly spill over onto her cheeks.

"But when I mentioned Kafalla you knew something would happen. I brought her with me, I brought her here. Where she will come upon Hakon. And he would fight her," she whispered, her eyes filled with the worry and fear I had been feeling the weeks she had been here.

I dropped her hand and looked down, chuckling spitefully. "To his very last breath." I let out a breath and cleared my throat, blinking rapidly as I looked up, pulling my hand off the table and away from Brynhild grasp. I stood before her but did not look at her. "Bryn I am not my brother nor my father. I cannot lead a people whilst fighting a dragon who has proven time and time again that she is not only smarter than us but lacks the mercy and willingness to seek out an agreement." My voice came out quieter than I had intended, but I had not the energy to try harder.

Brynhild reached for my hand again, this time instead of lasing her fingers with mine, as I had hoped, she instead tugged me hard, pulling me out of the tent and out into the open. I winced against the light and looked down at her, waiting for her to explain.

"This," she swept her hands over to the people milling about, talking and singing, "this is proof that you can lead your people. You may not be your father or your brother but you are you, a Svansson. A leader. A king."

"Bryn I-"

She turned on me and shoved me in the chest, her eyes hard and her face scowling. "Koll you are a better man than any man I have ever had the disservice of meeting! I can only stand here and listen to you complain and whine like a peevy child for so long before-"

Suddenly her shouting was cut off by a far louder voice, followed by screaming and people rushing to get to their tents.

"KOLL!"

I placed a hand on Brynhild's arm, subconsciously pulling her behind me. Her hand laid on my back, her breath on my arm. I looked about, my eyes narrowed and my jaw set.

"I am here. What is the matter."

A young warrior cam rushing up, the sight of his bloodied body and ragged clothes prompting me forward though I glanced at Brynhild

"We- I- come quick. The King has returned."