Chapter Text
‘No, you just never think!’ Inríðr’s voice raised as she argued. ‘You could’ve hurt someone!’ Her words put out a small cloud of vapor in the cold afternoon.
‘I don’t care! If you have a problem, the go fuck yourself!’ Thórfríðr started the shouting.
Arnbjorg’s weak ‘don’t fight’ was either unheard or ignored.
‘What? Shut up! You’re so godsdamned immature!’ Inríðr shouted at Thórfríðr.
‘Oh what, I’m immature, maybe you should take that stick out of your ass!’
Arnbjorg pulled up her hood and put her mitted hands over her ears. If they didn’t stop soon, she’d just walk away, maybe back to the village. She heard a muffled insult from Thórfríðr, and Inríðr drew herself up out of instinct. Even though Inríðr was thinner than Thórfríðr, she was taller, and that must have been enough to threated Thórfríðr, who shoved Inríðr. Inríðr pushed back, but Thórfríðr was stronger, and soon enough, Inríðr was at the edge of the trail, next to a pond.
Inríðr realized this, and desperately searched for better footing in the soft ground. Her ferocity immediately turned to fear. Thórfríðr must have noticed the change, and looked between the pond and Inríðr.
Arnbjorg lowered her hood, in the momentary silence. ‘Thóra, please,’ Inríðr pleaded
With those words, Thórfríðr’s decision was made. It wasn’t at all hard. The short-haired girl walked away as her friend sunk, weighed down by winter furs.
Arnbjorg waited until Thórfríðr was out of sight and earshot. By that time, Inríðr had stopped struggling, and the water was barely disturbed, save some broken ice. Arnbjorg walked over, and looked at the spot where the other girl had sunk. Cautiously, she shuffled over, and groped around in the icy water until she felt Inríðr’s body. With disproportiate strength, she pulled the body closer to her, until she was able to drag Inríðr out onto the trail. Arnbjorg set her on her back, and sat, waiting.
After a little while, Inríðr came round. The girl turned her back on Arnbjorg, and coughed and spat muddy water out of her lungs. Arnbjorg waited until she finished. She thought Inríðr might say something to her, but no words came out, only a pitiful sob. Arnbjorg scooted closer, and set her clean mitt on Inríðr’s shaking shoulder. Inríðr recoiled from the gesture.
‘Thank you,’ Inríðr said woodenly.
Arnbjorg got up, a slight look of disappointment played on her face. As she walked away, she turned back, to see Inríðr with clean trails on her muddy face.
Thórfríðr walked back to the village. As she passed, a man yelled at her:
‘Hey, slave! Help me with these buckets!’
She sunk down, her head looking down, and her back slouching. As much as she resented giving the man her compliance, she might be hit if she didn’t.
‘Yes,’ She walked over.
Arnbjorg and Thórfríðr didn’t mention the argument when they ate. Thórfríðr left for the dark end of the longhouse, the bedroom she shared with the animals. Arnbjorg lingered a moment, watching Thórfríðr skulk away, before she left for a warmer, cleaner place than her friend.
The next morning, Arnbjorg hung around Thórfríðr as the slave did her morning chores. Neither of them dared mention Inríðr, out of fear of the other’s reaction, and guilt, respectively, even though each were now ciourious as to why they hadn’t seen Inríðr yet, who usually came to see them at dawn to give them food she’d nicked from someone’s breakfast.
Neither of them said a word when Inríðr was still missing at the mornings communal meeting.
At that time, Inríðr was getting farther and farter away from the other two girls, as she sailed down a river in a boat with a couple other passengers. The boat would take her home, back to her native land, where she’d have some idea of what to do next.