Word count: 4728.

Warnings: Blood, animal sacrifice. 

❝𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎, 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.❞

♔

Hot water against cold, pale skin. Solfrid sat in the bathing tub, her muscles relaxing against the hot touch. Her knees were resting against her chest as her arms were wrapped around them. The wound on her arm had finally closed up, so she was in no need of bandages anymore. However, it was starting to form a nasty scar, as she inspected it. Last night she had finally returned home and she had finally seen her brothers again. Her heart didn't ache as much as it had before. The princess hadn't met anyone else though, because Njáll and Úlfr had practically dragged her back to their hut, but she knew that the others were safe. 

Njáll had filled her in with everything that they had missed while they were gone. Hálfdan, Þórfreðr, and Eindriði were safe. So was Sigmund and Iðunn as well, apparently. They had been able to fight off the intruders, killing a large amount of them, with help of the Berserks that had arrived quickly after Solfrid and the girls had escaped. The fire had swallowed most of the market and huts, but the people were working on repairing it all. Njáll and the priests had held the funeral for their parents, in his words it had been beautiful. Her oldest brother kept apologizing to Solfrid though since she missed it. 

Solfrid had reassured him that it was fine, that she understood why they had to do it. She could visit their graves later. And tonight, Njáll's coronation would be held. He would be crowned as the new Fearless Skull King of Björnheim. Solfrid was proud. She knew her brother would be just as good King as their father had been. The princess heaved a sigh as she slowly stood up. Being in her home brought her some comfort, but also discomfort. It was not like before. It was her home, yet it didn't feel like it. It felt wrong without her parents here. 

Solfrid shook her head, standing up. Water dripped from her bare body as she walked over to the chair where a soft towel laid, and the dress she would wear. After she dried herself and put on her undergarments, she took the soft dress in her hands. It was a dark green color, with fine details. It was sleeveless, made for the summer season. She quietly slipped it on, before sitting down, combing through her dry hair, starting to braid it as usual. 

When she finished, her ash blonde hair was in a half, braided ponytail, decorated with beads. For a brief moment, she looked just like her normal self. The only thing being different was the large, purplish bags underneath her puffy eyes. They weren't as bloodshot as they once had been a week ago, but a small amount of blood vessels still lingered in the corner of her eyes. Solfrid sighed to herself, before standing up and leaving her room behind. She knew her brothers would be in the Great Hall, so she made her way over there. 

The morning air was humid and smelled of rain. It had been raining off and on the entire night, as Solfrid had mainly laid awake, listening to the calming sound the raindrops falling against the roof of their hut. A couple of village people walked past her and greeted her with respect, which she returned, but other than those, she didn't see anyone around the Great Hall. Most of the people were down by the market and the huts, doing their best to build up their homes one again. 

She felt bad for them, knowing that they must be devastated by the fact that they lost their homes to the vicious flames. The princess glanced towards the market and huts but looked forwards again when she reached the Great Hall, entering it. Everything looked normal, it was lit up by candles and a small fire, and everything looked spotless. Yet her eyes traveled to where she had seen her father fall, and where she had held her dying mother in her arms. 

Her chest tightened as she sucked in a sharp breath, memories washing over her, but before she could completely panic, a masculine voice called her name.

"Solfrid!"

Þórfreðr called, making her look over at the tall, strawberry blonde man. He was the tallest in their friend group, towering over most of them, with his hazel brown eyes. Solfrid made her way over to him, seeing Njáll and Úlfr, as well as Hálfdan, Eindriði, Arnbjǫrg, and Jórunnr. Neither Sigmund nor Iðunn was there, and strangely enough, Solfrid felt relieved. She didn't know whether she had the strength to face any of them now. They were seated at the table, eating and talking.

Njáll and Úlfr both looked tired, especially Úlfr. Solfrid had heard his screaming, followed by muffled cries during the night. He too must have nightmares about the bloodbath. Solfrid could only imagine what he and the others that stayed behind must have seen, and what they must have done. Most of them had probably killed someone for the first time that night. Her heart ached for them, and she felt a pang of guilt in her chest. Her friends were real warriors now. Forced to grow up quicker than expected. 

All of them, except her brothers, Arnbjǫrg and Jórunnr, stood up and met her halfway, giving her a tight group hug. Solfrid embraced them all, squeezing them, breathing in the familiar scent of the friends she had grown up with. When they pulled away from each other, the princess looked at all of them with a comforting warmth radiating off her.

"I've missed all of you. I'm so glad you're okay" She expressed, making them smile at her.

"We've missed you too, Sol" Eindriði chimed in, making a small smile appear on her lips.

"Yeah! You should have seen us fight, Sol. We were glorious" Hálfdan exclaimed.

Solfrid raised an eyebrow at him, looking at Þórfreðr and Eindriði, who smiled sheepishly at her. Realizing that Hálfdan was probably exaggerated, she scoffed and playfully punched his shoulder, before walking past him. Hálfdan whined in pain before the three of them followed after the princess like lost puppies. She quietly greeted Arnbjǫrg and Jórunnr, who greeted her as well, before sitting down next to Úlfr. 

She noticed that his hands were underneath the table, as he was nervously fiddling with his fingers, his left leg bouncing up and down. Solfrid sneaked a hand underneath, grabbing one of his hands, trying to calm him down. It usually worked when he was nervous or anxious about something. She began rubbing circles on the back of his hand, and soon she could see his leg stop bouncing. She leaned into his side as the other ate and small talked, whispering so that only he could hear.

"Are you okay? I heard you scream last night" Solfrid asked as Úlfr looked down at her.

"I'm... I'm not okay, not really. I've been having nightmares ever since that evening and well... I'm just scared something will happen again" Úlfr confessed, squeezing his dark blue eyes shut.

Solfrid understood what her brother meant, and gave him a comforting pat on his leg.

"I understand. If you have another nightmare tonight, just come and wake me, and I will help you. I've been having nightmares as well" Solfrid said and Úlfr nodded, grateful.

"Thank you" Úlfr said and Solfrid removed her hand.

The princess started to eat her breakfast, her first real meal in over a week. It tasted delicious, it was so good, to the point where she had to remind herself to not inhale all of the food. She didn't want to have a stomach ache for the rest of the day. As she drank her water, she glanced over at Njáll and observed him. 

Her older brother seemed tense like something was troubling his mind. He wasn't saying much, only chiming in once in a while, but for the most part, he was silent. He had bags underneath his eyes as well, and for the first time, Solfrid noticed him slightly shaking. It wasn't as visible, and you had to focus on him to see it. But he was definitely shaking.

"So, was there a search party out for us?" Arnbjǫrg jokingly asked.

Njáll looked over at the ginger, before nodding.

"Yes. We sent one out immediately when things calmed down. But your trail seemingly disappeared out of nowhere.." Njáll said, making Jórunnr smile.

"That's because we followed a certain someone's advice, by going upstreams when we came across the first stream. And then our tracks were most likely washed away because of the rain" Jórunnr said.

Solfrid looked at Njáll, a small smile on her lips. That advice came strictly from Ragnar. It was one of the first things he had taught them. Njáll nodded at that, with a stoic expression.

"Then we rode on for two days and found a cave, which we stayed in for the rest of the time before we headed back" Jórunnr finished.

"Okay. Were there anyone else out there?" Njáll asked, looked at Jórunnr.

Jórunnr met his eyes, before looking at Solfrid. Solfrid swallowed before replying, instead of Jórunnr.

"Yes, there were. But that's something we should discuss during the council meeting later" Solfrid muttered.

Njáll looked at his younger with an intense gaze. Solfrid met his piercing blue eyes, but she didn't say anything else. Njáll sighed quietly to himself before nodding, dropping the topic completely. Something turned in Solfrid's stomach. She needed to ask him about Sigmund. Even though it hurt, she still wanted to know if he had been involved in the fight or not. If he had shunned Iðunn away and joined her brothers and friends to their aid.

"Was Sigmund there as well? When the Berserks arrived and the fight against the intruders broke out?" Solfrid asked carefully.

Jórunnr, as well as Arnbjǫrg, looked at her carefully. Njáll looked at his younger sister, and something on his expression darkened. He looked partly disgusted before he answered.

"No. He was nowhere to be seen, but–" Njáll said, his voice harsh.

When he realized his voice had come out harsher than he expected, he cleared his throat, exhaling, and then continued.

"But, he came seeking us afterward. Spitting some bullshit about how he was home feeling sick like I was some fool not knowing better! How couldn't he have noticed the fire? The attack? Why wasn't he at the feast to begin with?" Njáll ranted, and without thinking, slamming his fist down on the table, rattling the entire thing.

The group of friends stopped talking, looking shocked at the soon-to-be king. His eyes were narrowed, his expression dark and angry. Solfrid looked at her brother with shock, before snapping out of it. It got Solfrid thinking. Sigmund had been there, with Iðunn. But why would he lie to Njáll?

Something fishy was clearly going on. It made no sense to her, at all. She reached forwards, placing a soft hand on his clenched fist, giving him a concerned look. This seemed to make Njáll snap out of it as well. He sighed once more, rubbing his face with his free hand. The anger washing off him.

"I'm sorry for bursting out like that" Njáll apologized.

"It's okay" Solfrid hummed, doing the same thing she had done to Úlfr, rubbing circles on his hand.

The friend group soon began talking again, letting Njáll's sudden outburst go. No one blamed no, they couldn't. He was under pressure, and so was the other's as well. Solfrid figured that the stress and grief were reaching his head since he usually was so calm. And she was pretty sure he wasn't getting sleep either. Too many things about him had changed for her not to notice. She worried about her brothers and their wellbeing. She noted to herself that after Njáll's coronation later this evening, she would sit down with them and just talk.

Perhaps cry it out together, giving all three of them a proper chance of grieving together. Thralls were walking around, filling water to those who wanted, taking empty plates, and was overall being helpful. When most of the friends had finished, they looked at Njáll, before bidding goodbye and a promise to see the three Asbjørns siblings later for the coronation. The three Asbjørns siblings were left there at the table, as Solfrid let out a breath she had been holding before looking at both of her brothers. She could feel a smile building upon her face.

"I'm so glad you're still alive" Solfrid quietly confessed.

Njáll and Úlfr both looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I was so terrified you hadn't made it, neither of you. When I saw you, on the horseback... I thought that would be the last time seeing you" Solfrid continued. Njáll's and Úlfr's face softened as Úlfr placed his hand on her shoulder.

"And.. and Gods, the nightmares, they wouldn't stop. I can't help but feel like all of this fiasco was my fault entirely. If the feast hadn't taken place, maybe father and mother would have had a chance at fighting back and not.." Solfrid ranted, not noticing the tears welling up in her eyes.

She let out a forced chuckle as two tears ran down onto her cheeks. Njáll's expression became serious as he grabbed his younger sister's face between his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. His face looked stern, yet soft, as he spoke to her.

"Do not, under any circumstances, blame yourself for any of this. It isn't your fault. You didn't know, we didn't know, mother nor father knew this would happen. They would be sad to hear you blame yourself. Please, little Sol, this isn't your fault, and it will never be. We will never blame you for this" Njáll sincerely said.

It was quiet for a couple of moments before she slowly nodded. Njáll brushed away her tears, before pulling her into his chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she soon felt Úlfr joining the hug.

"We have each other's, that's what matters. We will always have each other" Njáll whispered.

"Do you promise?" Solfrid asked.

"Of course" Njáll answered.

Solfrid had never felt so safe. Her heart swelled with love for her two brothers.

"I love the both of you, so much" Solfrid whispered.

"Likewise, little Sol" Úlfr muttered into her hair.

And so the day went on. Now the council was gathered in the Great Hall, Njáll sitting on the late King's throne, as Solfrid and Úlfr sat on their own. Six people were sitting in front of them, three of them being Egill, Ása, and Ragnar. Then there is Alfvin, an older gentleman with graying hair, who was the eyes of Björnheim. He constantly travels, and it's his job to keep the King updated on what is happening outside of the kingdom. After Alfvin, there is Guðlaug, who is the trainer of the Berserk army. She is the one training all the new Berserks who decides to join the army, and it's thanks to her, the army is strong and skilled. Then lastly, there is Ráðúlfr, a man who keeps track of the economy, helping the king with advice and strategies.

All of them important to the kingdom and the wellbeing of the kingdom. Njáll and the council members had been talking, about the general topics, as well as what they were going to do about the burnt down market and huts. By the end of that conversation, they had concluded that they would seek help from the neighbor kingdom, and pay them handsomely for it. Njáll seemed satisfied with that. They continued talking, Solfrid listening carefully. She wanted to learn. 

They talked about the coronation. During this conversation, she couldn't help but notice how annoyed Ása, their aunt, looked, even though she tried to make it subtle. Was she not pleased with Njáll being the soon-to-be king? Solfrid observed her aunt for a while, and that seemed to be the case. But it wasn't her place to judge, so she brushed it of. Njáll then turned his head, looking at Solfrid.

"The last thing I would like to discuss today is something Solfrid and her two girlfriends stumbled across when they made their journey home" Njáll said, before continuing.

"As you all know, Arnbjǫrg made the smart decision to flee the kingdom with the princess, to keep her safe. They were able to steer clear of danger, but on their way home, they seemed to have met a group of people. Solfrid, would you like to talk about what you saw?" Njáll said as Solfrid nodded.

She looked at the council members, before clearing her throat.

"As Njáll said, we stumbled onto a group of people on our way home. I was able to confirm that the group's members were the intruders we had during the feast. They wore blue and silver, and as you all know, no kingdom in Scandinavia has those colors" Solfrid explained, recalling the event.

"They are outsiders. From a faraway country, where they speak English. Thanks to the late Queen, I was able to understand everything they were saying" Solfrid said, as she saw how shocked they looked. Everyone except Egill, who had a dark expression on his face.

She briefly glanced at Njáll, who looked intrigued, curious, and a bit shocked.

"They were talking about their king, a man named Leofric. The attack was planned and was requested by the king. I was also able to overhear that they were going home, but that must have been three days ago now, so they might be long gone. But that's what we stumbled across" Solfrid finished, nodding at Njáll and the council members.

This information caused a heated discussion. They were wondering why a faraway king would want Asbjørn dead. Everyone except Egill was talking. The man seemed to be deep in thought, that grim, dark expression never leaving his face. At least all of them were aware of the facts now. It hadn't been just a random attack, this had been a requested attack. After half an hour of discussion, Njáll raised his hand, pausing the conversation as a priest entered the Great Hall.

"I am sorry to interrupt the meeting, but the other priests are requesting the presence of the Prince. We must start the preparations for the coronation" The priest spoke.

There was something about the priests. All of them being wise, and something about them just seemed to be very ancient. They truly had some sort of bond with the Gods and Goddesses, and Solfrid admired that.

"Of course, priest" Egill quickly said.

"This meeting is officially over. We shall soon have another one, but thank you all for coming. I will see you this evening" Njáll said, dismissing the members, who, one by one, left the Great Hall.

Njáll bid farewell to his siblings, leaving the hall together with the priest. Úlfr and Solfrid were now left in the hall, sitting on their thrones. Solfrid looked over at Úlfr, slightly smiling at him.

"Let's go home and prepare" Solfrid said, standing up.

Úlfr followed suit as the two siblings made their way out of the hall, towards their hut. The sky had cleared up a bit now and was only painted with white clouds. The sun was laying on too hot, making it bearable. They walked in comfortable silence, and as they got to the hut, they went separate ways, Solfrid heading to her room, soon followed by Signe, as Úlfr headed to his, followed by his thrall. 

When they came into the room, Signe immediately went to hug Solfrid. This took the princess by surprise, but she returned Signe's affectionate hug. When Signe pulled away, she was a bit flustered.

"I'm sorry, my princess, I just– I couldn't help it. I have been worried about you" Signe confessed.

It made Solfrid feel warm inside. Signe hadn't seen her since before the feast. She had been helping her family with their burnt down hut, so she hadn't been there when Solfrid had arrived the previous day, nor had she been at the royal hut the entire day, since she had been permitted Njáll to help her family as much as she needed to. 

Signe had just finished helping them, and when she had seen the princess, an overwhelming feeling of relief washed over her. Yes, even though she was a thrall, Solfrid's thrall at that, she cared about the young princess. Solfrid had been nothing but kind to her, never forcing her to do anything she didn't want to do. Signe was genuinely happy to be working for the princess. And they had formed a somewhat sister bond with each other.

"Signe, I'm so happy to see you again. It's okay, you don't need to apologize" Solfrid chuckled.

Solfrid began to prepare herself with the help of Signe. The princess changed from her dress to a more formal one, it having the kingdoms color and fine embroidery. Signe braided Solfrid's entire hair, making it into a neat high ponytail. It was decorated with beads, as Solfrid applied kohl to her eyes. Taking on her ankle-high leather shoes was officially done.

"Thank you so much Signe. I don't know what I would have done without you" Solfrid joked, making Signe smile.

"You wouldn't have such fabulous hair without me. Now go, I will join you later" Signe said and Solfrid nodded.

She left her room, finding Úlfr finished and ready in their kitchen, by their table. He was dressed in fine clothing as well, matching Solfrid with the colors. Once Úlfr saw his little sister, he stood up.

"You look good" Úlfr complimented as he walked up to her, offering his arm.

"Likewise" Solfrid hummed, hooking her arm with his.

The two left the hut and began walking towards the large lake. It was out on the dock that the coronation would take place. They walked in silence, as her eyes traveled all over the burnt huts and market stalls. She thought about it for a moment, before looking at Úlfr.

"How many died that night, Úlfr?" She asked quietly.

Úlfr avoided looking at her, keeping his gaze straight forwards. It took a while before he answered.

"Seventy, including mother and father" He said lowly as Solfrid looked at him, shocked.

"Most of them died by the attack in the Great Hall, then some died in the fight and some were... burnt inside their own homes" Úlfr said, a hint of sadness and guilt in his voice.

"That's horrible" Solfrid muttered.

Neither of them said anything else as they continued through the market. Everyone was now making their way towards the dock, stopping their work. It took a while before they reached the dock, but once they had gotten there, Solfrid watched curiously. The priests had moved the Oden statue to the end of the dock. The Allfather was there, so he could be a witness to the greatness that was about to take place. There was a table, on which they had tied a great sabertooth tiger on. Solfrid let out a soft gasp as she saw it. It was the first time she had ever seen one before. 

They were uncommon, living high up in the snowy mountains. They were never easy to catch, but the priests had managed to do that, with a bit of help from the Berserks. They had tied its mouth together, securing it to the table. Its white fur looked so soft. It was a magnificent creature. Underneath was a wooden bowl, ready to be filled with blood from the predator. The priests all stood in two lines, waiting for the soon-to-be king to arrive. Her curious eyes could also see something covered with a white piece of a cloak. Solfrid and Úlfr took their place next to Egill. Egill had witnessed a coronation once before, and that was for his late best friend, Asbjørn. 

He was honored to see Njáll become the king now. And he knew that Asbjørn would be proud as well. The three of them were looking towards the crowd, as Solfrid could see their friends there. Arnbjǫrg waving at Solfrid, which she returned. But her attention shifted from Arnbjǫrg to her brother, who was now arriving with the priest. He was dressed in armor, which was decorated with Viking chainmail and a long, black cloak. All the clothing he wore bearing the colors of the kingdom, with his long platinum hair braided into one, long complicated braid. 

In his left hand, he held a special made shield, with their sigil of a rearing bear on a black, gold, and red background, and in his right hand, he held his long, custom made sword. He looked like a true king now, the only thing missing being his crown. The priest and Njáll walked past Solfrid, Úlfr and Egill, and towards the trapped predator. All of Björnheim was now watching. The priest came together, chanting an ancient song, honoring the Gods while asking them to accept Njáll as the new king. 

They chanted and sang, while one priest took his shield and sword, just for a moment, while another priest got a large, sharp knife. He raised it to the orange, pinkish sky as he chanted. Then he brought it down to the predator, before slashing its throat, quick and merciful. It whined for a split second, before going completely limp. Solfrid was watching everything intensely. The blood from the magnificent animal began spilling into the wooden bowl underneath the table. It slowly filled up with the thick, scarlet-colored fluid. Once that was done, the same priest took it and dipped his fingers in it. First, he splashed blood on Oden. Then he turned around towards Njáll. 

He began chanting something else, something she really couldn't make out, as the priest walked over to Njáll. The priest dipped three of his fingers in the blood, before slowly dragging them over Njáll's face. For a split moment, everything was silent, the priests stopping their chants, as the priest gave Njáll the bowl. Slowly, the soon-to-be king put the bowl to his lips, taking one, long sip of the blood. Once he had done that, the priests chanted loudly, as Njáll handed the bowl back. Solfrid caught a glimpse of her older brother's disgusted expression, as another priest now removed the white cloak and lifted something. When she saw what it was, she could only stare at it in awe. 

It was his crown. The crown would make up his entire identity as a king. It was a large cranium of a sabertooth tiger, though it was only the upper part of it. It had runes carved into it, as the saber teeth were large and pointed. It was breathtaking. Njáll fell on his knees, as the priest made his way over to him. The priest lifted the crown above Njáll's head, giving him a blessing from the Gods, before placing it on his head, fastening it with a leather strap. Once the priest was done, Njáll stood up, and the priest that had been holding Njáll's weapons handed them back. 

Njáll took them with grace before turning around, facing the people of Björnheim. The entire skull crown covered his face, and you couldn't see anything other than a new king. A new Fearless Skull King of Björnheim. The sabertooth tiger was Njáll's chosen animal. He looked terrifying, yet so powerful. Behind him, one of the priests spoke up.

"Welcome our new king, Njáll, son of Asbjørn! Welcome our new Fearless Skull King of Björnheim! All hail Njáll The Great!" The priest shouted.

Soon enough cheering erupted from the crowd. The king now stood there, shield in one hand and sword in the other, watching his people from beneath his skull crown. It was now his turn to rule his kingdom, and he hoped he would live up to his father's reputation. He hoped he could do them justice. Solfrid, her brother, and Egill all watched the king in awe as the crowd began chanting one single sentence.

"All Hail Njáll The Great!"

♔

― 𝚎.𝚛