"Because nobody should have to suffer in silence."

Ubbe stands in front of Torhyl, his breathing heavy and his heart beat racing.  Torhyl wipes her brow, the heat of her body causing her skin to perspire.  She steadies her heavy breaths, her body weakening with each fight she spars.  She ignores the throbbing pain in her side and continues to fight with an enduring passion.

  Ubbe gives her a weak smile.  "You fight well," He compliments as he takes defensive stance.  "Your teacher must be very proud."

  Torhyl swings her sword, the duel easily matched by the other.  "I could never know for sure," She grunts.  "He dwells in Valhala now."

  Ubbe fights back, managing to pull her into his chest and lock his sword around her throat.  "I'm sure he looks down on you with pride."

  Torhyl thrusts her elbow into his side and takes his moment of weakness to spin around and hold her own sword to his throat.  "That is all I can ask for."

  "Well, we better give him a good show." Ubbe breaks out of her hold and points his sword at Torhyl.

  Torhyl breaks the contact with the blade of her sword and pushes him backwards with each harsh slash.  She continues to push him backwards with each relentless swing until he is backed up against a tree.  He continues to block each rapid swing and catches her last swing, pulling her close to him. 

  Ubbe's face sits dangerously close to Tohryl's, her hot breath warms his lips with each sharp withdrawal.  Her heart beats against his chest, the intense fighting causing her pulse to spike.  She grabs hold of the arm that he holds against her throat and twists it away from her, the sudden jolt causing Ubbe to scream out in pain.

  She pushes his arm against his back, pushing his face against the trunk of the Pine.  Ubbe uses his other arm to elbow her in the ribs, sending her stumbling backwards breathless.  She clutches onto her side, the distant aches of her old wound suddenly brought to the surface.  She grunts away the pain as she prepares herself for Ubbe's next attack.

  Her sword lay at the trunk of the pine where Ubbe had left it.  Torhyl crouches down and digs her hands into the leaves under her feet.  Ubbe walks towards her, his sword held tight in his clutches until he stands over her crouched body.     "Surrender, Commander."  Ubbe commands, pointing his sword at her.

  Torhyl's eyes slowly rise to meet his.   "That's not an option, prince."

  With one swift flick of her wrists, she tosses the leaves at Ubbe's face causing him to be temporarily blinded.  Tohryl swiftly tumbles over to her sword and perches herself on one knee, pointing her blade into Ubbe's back.

  "You were saying, Prince?" Torhyl says breathlessly.

  Ubbe turns around and looks at her.  "You never cease to impress me, Torhyl."

  Torhyl lowers her blade and sends him a sidewards grin.  "And you, Ubbe."

  Torhyl holds his shoulder and uses her foot to kick out his foot slightly.  His legs are slightly farther apart, giving him a more stable stance.  "You are smart in your tactics but your footing lets you down.  Keep your stance firm and you will never find yourself on the other side of that blade."

  After Torhyl finishes helping Ubbe, she walks over to the stump where Ivar sits quietly.  She sheathes her weapon and slides down the stump to sit on the forest floor.  She winces slightly at the sharp pain in her side but refuses to let her pain show to the men around her.  She does not need others to think she is weak.

  "I'm starting to think you enjoy beating our asses." Ivar jests in a light-hearted manner.  He tosses an apple to Ubbe and cleans one for himself. 

  Torhyl rests her head against the stump and let's her eyes shut, a frivolous chuckle passes through her lips.  "What gave you that impression?"

  "You seem way too happy Sigurd's in pain."  Ivar comments loosely, taking a bite out of his apple. 

  "I think the only problem here is you are not happy Sigurd is in pain." Torhyl looks up at Ivar, a smirk tugging at her lips.

  Ivar smiles and proceeds to lean down and lower his voice.  "I never said I did not find it...amusing."

  Torhyl smirks behind Sigurd's back and snorts to herself. 

  "I do not find pain amusing." Sigurd snarls as he limps over to the stump to collect an apple.

  "That is where we differ, brother." Ivar says, a devilish grin playing on his lips.

  "What is your position on the matter, Commander?" Ubbe points the conversation towards Tohryl.

  Torhyl leans her head against the stump once more.  She looks up at the overcast sky above her, its unpredictable danger looms above her head.  Her mind processes the question, the memories of suffering that so often haunt her nights play like a horrible play in front of her very eyes.  She clenches her jaw to suppress the raw emotion that rises in her chest.

  "Pain is felt," Torhyl speaks.   "Whether or not you want to feel it, you have no choice in the matter.  Pain can be used to refine you or destroy you.  If I cause pain, it is because I see a stronger person hiding deep beneath the exterior and I will fight anything to bring him out.  I do not delight in pain, but I do not see development without it."

  "Sigurd must have one hell of a strong man hiding beneath his skin." Hvitserk teases, elbowing Sigurd in the ribs.

  "He has incredible potential, if we could only break through that thick skull of his."

  "Maybe, we could just break his skull?" Hvitserk mocks Sigurd lightly, ruffling his hair.

   "I do not think your mother would approve of that idea." Torhyl shoots Hvitserk a slightly amused glance.

  "Do not joke about such things, Hvitserk." Ubbe reprimands sternly.

  "Who said I was joking?" Hvitserk raises a brow at his brother.  Ubbe sends him a furious look causing Hvitserk to raise his hands in surrender.

  "Taking a life is something not to be mocked," Ubbe declares firmly.  "It is something that is necessary at times, but certainly not something to find humour in."

  "It must be easy to take a life when you have had many years of experience." Hvitserk comments, tossing his apple into the air and catching it.

  The comment was indirect but Torhyl could sense he had her in mind when he said it.  Torhyl takes out a small knife from her waist belt and spins the blade around her fingers, desperate to keep her hands and mind busy. 

  "Do you find it easy, Commander?" Hvitserk enquires.  "To kill?"

  Torhyl draws in a heavy breath.  "I do not find joy in the death of others.  It is not something I find pleasure in.  But if blood is the price of freedom and justice for my people, then so be it."

  "So, feelings do not count when it comes to battle?"

  "Feelings are a hard thing to suppress, and even harder to comprehend," Torhyl explains. "I do not find feelings a weakness.  I would rather feel sorrow taking a life then to feel nothing at all.  For being completely numb is something not be desired, but rather something to be feared.  How can you fight with valour when you have nothing to stand for?"

  "Ivar cannot stand at all, does that make him free to kill without remorse?"

  "Ivar's legs may not have feeling, but the last time I checked, he doesn't think with his feet."   Torhyl states.  "Ivar is free to do as he pleases, as are all of you.  But freedom of will does not come free of consequence."

  Torhyl freezes, her mind flashing back to the night that her freedom was taken from her.  Her eyes are dim to the world but are ignited with the agonising memory of the torturous night back home.  Her skin quivers at the memory of the lashes that she bore.  The leather whip and sharp metal ends bore deep into her innocent flesh, each one tearing away her skin from her bones.  Even to this very day, she could still feel the cold hard steel lacerating her skin. 

  Her mind is so clouded by her past agony that she is almost drowning in it.  It would not be much longer and she would be completely in its merciless clutches.  Torhyl snaps out of her daydream, her body shaking with sharp breaths.  She stands briskly to her feet and slides the blade back into her waist belt.  She collects her weapons and turns to face Ragnar's sons. 

  "You have fought well today," Torhyl gives them a satisfactory grin.  "I would be honoured to have you fight by my side."

  "Thank you, Commander." Ubbe acknowledges her with a curt nod.

  "Now!" She motions towards camp.  "You must join your family for a meal and rest.  You all have earned it." 

  The young men gather their weapons and begin to walk home.  Ivar pulls himself off of his stump and collects his own armoury.  Torhyl turns and walks the opposite way to home camp.  Ivar's eyes follow her, a confused look adorning his tired features.

  "Torhyl!" Ivar calls after her.  "Where are you going?"

  Torhyl pauses and looks over her shoulder at him.  "To clear my mind."

  Ubbe pauses to look over his shoulder at his younger brother.  "Are you not joining us, brother?"

  "Go ahead of me, I'll catch up." Ivar calls after him.  Ubbe sends him a critical glance but agrees and continues back to camp.

  "No," Torhyl objects.  "Feast with your brothers and I will join you later on.  You have proven yourself a strong fighter today.  Your father was right...you are destined for greatness."

  Ivar's hand reaches out and grabs Torhyl's wrist.  She turns to face him, her face almost hazy as she looks down him.

  "You are pale," Ivar observes in a worried tone.  His hands roam her flesh with concern.  "Your skin is cold.  Are you ill?"

  "I am fine Ivar," Torhyl reassures, taking his hand in her own.  "I assure you, it is nothing."

  Ivar looks into her eyes, the beauty of her iridescent blue irises seem to be overshadowed by a veil of agony.  "Your eyes cannot hide your pain, as much as your tongue tries to."

  "Why do you care so much for me?"  Torhyl asks, her eyes searching his own for a sense of reason.

  "Because nobody should have to suffer in silence." Ivar says quietly. 

  Torhyl's eyes flash with compassion at his altruistic words, the honesty and raw emotion in his voice makes Torhyl's heart ache for the boy. In the face of this young man, she sees herself and it both scares her and entrances her.

  Torhyl kneels down in front of him and rests her hands on either side of his face.  Her hands gently caress his face, her eyes taking in every detail of his face. 

  She slowly leans her head closer to his, her eyes fluttering shut as her lips near his.  Her lips gently brush the corner of his.  She places a light kiss on the very edge of his lips.  Ivar's head moves closer to hers as she pulls away, his lips hovering over hers. 

  Her eyes flutter open to be met with the bright eyes of Ivar.  His eyes flicker between her lips and her entrancing eyes.  His lips hover over Torhyl's, his uneven breaths warming her cold skin. 

  Torhyl's hands trace Ivar's firm jawline down to his chin.  Her soft hands caress his skin.  Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, the contact causing his mouth to open slightly at her touch.  His eyes shut slowly at the sensation.  Her hands delicately brush over his skin as she brings his head closer to hers.

  She places a delicate kiss against his forehead before caressing him one last time.  Her fingers leave his skin alight with her touch. She steps away from him and walks away. There is no words exchanged between the two, but the touch of skin was enough to speak louder than words through the deafening silence.