Chapter 22—HEALING

Lyra Drake has been living in the Great Hall for many days, before Thor; her father had a chance to drop in. He wanted to see how things were going. But when he had seen his daughter, he almost wanted to turn back around and hide. Lyra did not look so well. She looked like she was on the brink of falling over into despair.

Thor knew that he had to stay; he needed to tell her the whole story of what had happened to her husband. He owed it to her. Thor felt sick into his stomach. He had to let his own daughter know that her husband had felt very strongly for her.

‘No father should go through this.’

The woman from another era gave the Thunder God a heated glare as she sat upon her throne. “You almost killed Varg.”

“He’s alright.” Thor chuckled as he tried to redeem himself. He looked uncomfortable with the look that Lyra was giving him. “Come on, Lyra. Varg will be alright. He did get rid of the creature. Granted, it is not dead, but it’s gone. It would have kidnapped you again if you were around.”

She sighed deeply. Lyra had been spending most of her time in the Great Hall and nowhere else. She would even fall asleep in her royal chair. Most nights, Carriage would wander into the hall and throw a blanket over her body as she slept on. The Druid would even spike her tea just so she would get some rest, even for a little while.

“I’m just tired, Thor,” stated Lyra with a dark shadow under her eyes and red lines in them. Her shoulders sagged from stress and worry. “I am also tired of worrying about Varg.”

“He’s going to live, Lyra.” Then, after a moment of thinking, Thor asked, “Is it because of the fight before he had gotten back? Is that the reason why you refused to go to your hut and sleep at night?”

Lyra moved her eyes towards the ground while Thor asked his questions. When he was finished, she glanced up towards him, and the god saw the pain behind her eyes. He knew that she was hurting, and it was because of what she believed.

“Oh, Lyra, please don’t hurt yourself over this.” Thor moved closer to her and held her hands within his own. “Varg is a warrior.” He tugged at her hands enough to get her to look into his own eyes. He wanted her to see what he was saying. “Because he is a warrior, it will be at least a couple of days more for him to pull through,” Thor stated in a loving and caring voice, just like a father would for his own child. “Don’t give him up yet. He is a fighter.”

All Lyra was able to do was to give a nod. Thor knew that he had to leave and allow her some time to think things through. He also knew that it would take time for his son-in-law to heal. The Thunder God had left the village to his daughter’s ruling ways.

It had been weeks for Varg to heal from his many wounds, and during that time. His warriors had come back from Stonehenge battlements. Of which he could have lost many of his people if he had not done anything to stop it. He heard them, from his hut. All of them walking in or riding into the place that they have known as home. Moaning, groaning. Talking among themselves.

Varg did not want to leave his hut. He knew that his wife was out there overseeing the land for him, but he was afraid to talk to her.

‘Oh, how is this dreadful? Hiding behind my hut, just so I can’t face my own wife.’ He mumbled softly, ‘What would she think about me if she only knew that I’m really a coward?’

Varg could hear from the nearby warriors that walked past. The reason for them arriving late, other than the long walk. They were celebrating with the other Viking tribes before coming home. He then heard an out roar of anger. Once those that came home had found out that their leader had fallen. They wanted to have a go with the creature of the loch, once again.

He heard the voice of the head soldier that he had left in charge. He had told the man before leaving that Thor was in charge until he left. Once Thor had left, then the soldier would take over for the people to head for home.

He had heard the head soldier calling out for the men and women, telling them to head for their huts and get some rest. He had heard the soldier’s footsteps making their way towards his own hut. Varg sighed deeply; he knew that this would be a long-awaited talk with this soldier. He dreaded it the moment that he had heard his people coming through the gates.

When he heard the sound of his door being pulled open, Varg spoke out in a grouchy-sounding voice, “Whatever it is, my wife is in charge.”

The man’s voice growled, “Is that wise?”

“Eric, is anything wise?” asked the leader of the clan of mixed Vikings. “She holds more knowledge than I care to admit, but she does as she wishes.”

Eric’s red hair puffed out while he seemed to be in thought. “There is talk about Lady Lyra saying that you want to move the tribe to the highlands. Saying that it would happen during the fall or springtime hours. Something about the weather being good enough for the travel.” The red-headed man laughed. “When is it a bad time to travel?”

Varg grumbled before he sat up in his bed, giving the other man a glare. “Don’t speak like that about my wife, Eric.” He gave a deep cough. “She knows what's better for our people.” Varg gave Eric a worthy glare for his disobedient ways. “She is to be heard and followed as if it were my words being uttered from her lovely lips.”

Anger seemed fill the room. Eric did not seem pleased about his efforts to get Varg to listen to him. “What other importance does she have—other than being your wife, that is?”

“She is Thor’s daughter, or have you forgotten?”

The red-headed warrior stomped his feet as he paced the room before him. “Anything else?” Eric seemed determined to get more answers from Varg than he cared to give. “There is talk among the people, saying that you have visited her on the island and shortly flew away in anger. Care to tell me about that?”

“There is none to give, Eric.” Varg was starting to get tired of talking to the heated man. He seemed to not like Lyra as the head person over the people. He really did not care so much for Eric and may have to plan to send him on his way if he did not stop his harassment with him. “Be GONE, you mindless brute, or I’ll have to send you away to another clan for your evil thoughts against my wife.”

This caused the soldier to halt in his speech, realizing that he needed to stop, or he would lose his remaining family that he had left. “Understood, my lord,” he grumbled. “When will we see you out and about, my lord?”

“Soon, Eric. Soon.” Varg really did not want to leave his hut. But he did not want his wife to face men like Eric and have to fight the war within his own village alone. He knew that he had to leave soon, and he planned to do so when most of the village was asleep.

Eric left Varg’s hut, leaving his leader to his thoughts.

Varg spent most of his time with closed eyes, gathering his strength for him to leave his own hut. When the hours had passed on by, he sensed that the village was far into their realm of dreams. He exited out of his hut and made a slow stroll towards the Great Hall, where he entered through the back side. Varg made his way towards the throne when he heard a bit of light breathing from his highchair.

‘I miss that sound,’ thought Varg.

He tried to walk softly, but it was hard for him to do so. He never had to walk this quietly before. Making his way around his chair and found that young woman that he had been thinking about. Varg saw how lovely she looked upon his throne. With her head being piped up from one side of the backing while her legs were hanging over one of the arms. It caused him to wonder if she was comfortable sleeping like that. He also wondered how long she had been sleeping in his chair.

‘Does she know how beautiful she is?’

“Lyra,” whispered Varg, which sounded like a distant thunder rolling her name. He leaned close to her and gave a kiss her temple. “You should have been sleeping in your hut, my wife.”

She mumbled in her sleep, “I…had…to…make sure…that you were…al—right.”

‘She was truly worried about me. She should not. I really don’t deserve her.’

Varg grumbled from being on his feet for a little longer than he had wanted to. He turned around and found her chair that she should have been sitting in. Varg made his way towards it, in a slow crawl of a walk and sat down in the empty chair. He could feel that it should have been wider; like his own chair, and it should also be a bit taller, as well. He knew from that moment that when they have made their way to the highlands. He would be making a better throne for her.

Hours seemed to have passed by. Varg had been lost with his thinking. About what he wanted to do differently for Lyra upon their new life in a new place. Dawn seemed to have grown to be. When one of the serving women came walking in and started the fires for the morning meal that will be cooking.

The woman had glanced up, seeing that Lyra was fast asleep. She barely noticed that there was a man sitting next to the ruling woman. When the serving woman nearly shrieked out in surprise.

Varg had waved for the woman to be quiet, and she had gone done what she was told and went on with her cooking. He saw more women coming in, to help with the massive meal that needed to have done. Varg heard Lyra’s breathing change and turned his head towards her, he saw that she was waking up.

Lyra blinked her eyes. When she was able to see clearly, she saw the man that had caused her to worry but managed to give a sad smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel sad that you felt that you had to sleep in the Great Hall, my wife, when you had your own hut to sleep in,” stated Varg in a deeply worried voice. “Why, Lyra?”

The woman sighed, sounding lost from her tone of voice. “I feel responsible for your pain, Varg.” She gave him a worried look. “After seeing your blood leaking out of your body, the bruises that I had seen…” Lyra seemed to have been lost within her head, trying to tell him what she was feeling. “I even experienced it by seeing it in a dream that I had…it was a bit too much…and I felt terrible…knowing that I was the cause…of all of it.”

‘No, Lyra, I was the one who caused the pain for the two of us.’

Varg groaned. He hated hearing the despair from her voice. He would rather battle the beast again than to hear her voice like that again. “I knew that you were special, Lyra. But I didn’t know that you would see things like that.” He gave her a hidden smile, the kind only a husband would use on his wife. “Yes, I had faced your cousin. I shredded him more than he had done to me.”

‘Yes, wife, I had faced your ugly cousin, and he is way too weak to come after us now.’ He saw the worriedness from her face. ‘I want to kiss your trembling lips, to show you that I’m truly real.’

He raised his shoulders up in a shrug. “What you had seen was a backlash of him losing his energy and trying to get away from me. I ended up winning.” Varg gave her a twinkling-eyed look. “You don’t have to worry about the serpent of a cousin, at least not for a while. He’s way too weak to battle with anyone.”

Lyra gazed upon the Great Hall. She seemed lost within her own mind, not realizing that she was still sitting the way she had. It was then that she noticed the women were busy with their work, but she asked in a soft voice, “What about us?” Lyra then turned her head towards her husband and gave him a sorrowful look. “What is the future for us?”

‘I could kill myself for the look that she is giving me. The kind of look that I’ll go to war and hope to never come back to see. It just hurts me to see it from her: sorrow. Oh, I wish I could have turned around and faced her and talk things through.’

Varg gave her a smirk. “You’re still going to be my wife. We’ll be moving to the highlands, where you’ll teach the ways of the One God to our people.” He closed his eyes for a moment before going on, “I prayed to him.” He saw her questioning look. “I prayed to him during the whole ordeal, even while I was held up in my own hut. I said, ‘Please heal me, and I will allow my wife to teach Your ways to me and to my people.’” Varg went into his mind, trying to find the right words to use so he would not get into another fight with Lyra. “The strange thing was, I heard a voice calling out to me, saying that I will be healed, and He would hold me to my word.”

Lyra moved her legs from the arms of the throne and set them upon the ground. She then turned her upper body towards him. She wanted to get closer to him so she would be able to hear him better. She had a smile on her puffy lips. “Is that your way of saying sorry and that you were wrong?”

‘Sorry. I’m bloody sorry here.’

Varg chuckled lightly. “No.” He shook his head softly. “I’m telling you the truth, Lyra. I’m sorry for what I did after you told me that you were a follower of the One God.” He took a deep, harsh breath. He was having trouble talking, even though he did well in battling upon a field with weapons. “I am not used to this.” He sighed. “Being married…I should have stayed and talk things over with you.” He stopped for a moment to collect himself. “I should have never allowed my anger to rule me like I have done.”

She seemed surprised, for her eyes popped open from the number of words that he had been saying. ‘This must be hard for her to hear, a man talking his mind that is.’

“You mean it, don’t you?” asked Lyra.

The ruler gave her a loving look as he declared, “I’ll prove it. You are my warrior’s heart, for it belongs to you. I will follow the days of peace and try to stay away from war, as much as it’s possible.”

He became determined. ‘I’ll do anything to keep a smile from dropping from her luscious lips.’

The corners of her lips raised, but there was no light of happiness in her eyes. “You’re a warrior, Varg. I’m not going to change everything about you.” Lyra sighed hollowly. “Even God needs his soldiers.” She shook her head from side to side. “It’s not up to me who becomes one or not.”

“What should I do, then?” He really wanted to know. ‘I’m glad that she doesn’t want to change that part of me, but I will make her genuinely happy?’

“Listen,” stated Lyra with lips smiling and tears falling. “Pray and follow the ways of His teachings. You will never stray from knowing that He will always be there for you.”

His blue eyes had a bit of longing to them. “Are there a lot of wars from knowing his teachings?”

A sad look was given for his answer. “Yes. But for the freedom of people, to give knowledge to others that He is better and all knowing. Much better than the other Gods that people believe in.”

Varg groaned, as he knew from experience that what she had said was true. The One God had come to him in his weakest hour. Varg knew then that he would be learning a lot from his wife in the coming seasons.

“I do have to ask, though.”

He knew he was not absolutely free from questions from his wife. “Yes.”

“How did you become a Wolf-Dragon? You never really told me, and when I felt like asking, it always felt like the wrong time to ask.”

Varg closed his eyes. He had hoped to delay the answer more but knew that he needed to show some grace for his wife. “I was cursed, Lyra.” His baritone voice had become more noticeable. “A priest from a nearby church had cursed my father’s father.”

Lyra gasped. “Oh no.”

Varg’s eyes became hard, but he knew that he had to go on. “The priest tried to convert him, saying that he would go to Hades if he didn’t change his ways. Well, he did not take it well. He burned down the building, and the priest said some words.” He closed his eyes and growled. He sometimes wished that he had not come from Vikings. “Ever since that moment, we have been known as the living demons that all should fear.”

Lyra’s response was simple and unknown to Varg. She got out of her chair and gave him a heartwarming hug. A feeling came upon them, something warm and enlightening. It was something that Varg had never felt before but would fight to keep. It was from that moment that Varg knew that they would work things out together.