After Sir Bar had departed the Nordheimer camp, the lion's share of Arne's time was taken up between seeing to the welfare of the people and the training of their free-company. Valka, although late in her pregnancy, was still quite active in the day-to-day affairs of the camp. Arne couldn't help but beam with admiration at her spirit, and the numerous back-thumps and congratulations he got from the other Nords on a daily basis made him feel blessed to be alive.
As he watched her entertaining a sizable group of children - and more than a few adults - he cocked his head slightly and thought back to the time when they had freed them all from the last Saxon camp. Arne and Valka had spoken to their people of their future plans, and during their speeches some good-natured banter had broken out between them. It had the desired effect of buoying the peoples' spirits, but the banter also had a very sincere undercurrent to it. And the other Nords were able to see it as well. And Arne was also seeing it ever since they had completed the lodges. People glancing at Arne, then at Valka - or at Valka, then at Arne. His mind flashed back again to that beach by the Saxon slave camp . . .
"A very generous offer from Valka! But, countrymen, I must ask you this first. Would you be willing to follow two leaders instead of one?"
"Tradition has allowed two leaders. They are usually known as husband and wife." Valka had given him a wry smirk and finished off her cup of wine.
Arne had frozen when the other Nords had gone deathly quiet, but he'd managed to recover fairly quickly. He smirked, and took up the challenge. "Why, Valka Ingersdotter! Was that a lesson on our people's traditions, or a proposal?"
Not one to be outdone, she had moved closer to him with an upturned palm and had replied, "Arne Torvaldson, do you believe my hand should be so easily obtained?"
It was then that Arne had nearly frozen again. She was serious! Placing his hand on top of hers, he had said, "No, Valka, I do not believe so. You are no swooning maiden to be so easily won. You are a proven scop and a shield-maiden, and worthy of great respect. You were not born to the ethlings, but that means nothing to me, or to these good people here. Through bravery, deeds, spirit and wisdom, you have shown yourself as worthy of a chieftain's title as any of the ethlings. Even more so than many of them. But . . . perhaps our duty should first be to our people here. We need to see them to safety first, and find them shelter, food and water. If we can't return back home at this time, then perhaps we can find a home with the enemies of our enemies." Arne raised his voice. "My countrymen . . ." Here, he grinned and hastily added, " . . . and women . . . know that Valka and I will be as of one mind for decisions, so you will have two leaders. Then - once we have found a home for you all, my good people - then Valka and I will speak more on this, if she is willing and thinks me worthy."
Valka had beamed at him then, and replied, "Acceptable terms. But I grant you no mercy in the meantime." She then all but yanked Arne off of his feet and had given him a fierce, bruising kiss.
"Well, we have found a home, have we not?" he said to himself under his breath. Straightening his shoulders, he started to walk with determination towards where Valka was sitting, when the thunderbolt smashed into him.
I'm going to ask Valka to marry me.
I'm going to ask Valka to marry me.
I'm going to ask Valka to marry me!
Arne stopped, and felt his face start to burn, and then go cold. He gave an odd sort of croaking hiccup, and found that he had no moisture in his throat.
One part of his mind howled, Move, damn your eyes! You've faced down Saxon warriors that wanted your blood, and laughed in their faces!, but was drowned out by the other part of his mind that was starting to overwhelm him with a faint, terrified guhk! sound.
He stood there, rooted in place for nearly a minute; the only saving grace that he was currently out of Valka's line of sight and no one else seemed to notice him behaving like a landed fish. His right arm rose woodenly, and he punched himself hard in his right leg to bring himself back into the land of the living. Whirling around, he stalked off to seek . . . advice. He needed to speak with Holmg?r?r, Gods and goddesses, he needed to speak with Holmg?r?r . . .
