The path through the dense forest was quiet, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional creak of the trees swaying in the wind. Freydis walked briskly ahead, her pace quick and purposeful, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and Jorund. His actions lately made her uneasy, his presence more insistent, like a shadow that loomed over her every step.
She could feel him behind her, not far off, his heavy footsteps crunching the underbrush in tandem with hers. Freydis didn't look back, but she could sense him closing the gap, the heat of his pursuit inching closer.
Then, Jorund's voice broke the silence, low and unexpected. "Freydis," he said, and his tone was soft, almost gentle. She didn't respond, keeping her gaze forward, pretending not to hear him, but he didn't give up, "I've watched you for years, Freydis. Always so strong, so independent." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "But I know the truth. I know what you feel for me."
Freydis' breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected this, hadn't seen it coming. The words were foreign and unsettling. She felt a lump rise in her throat, fighting to stay composed, but inside, she was recoiling. He had always been her comrade, someone who had fought beside her, shared a bond forged in blood and hardship. This was different.
She quickened her steps, pushing forward, trying to make it to the barn. But Jorund matched her pace, effortlessly keeping up. "I've always been here for you," he continued, now stepping directly in front of her, blocking her way. "I told you I would protect you, didn't I? When your lover died, who saved you amongst that rabble?. And now I'm telling you this—I've waited long enough. It's time, Freydis. It's time for us."
Freydis halted, her chest tightening, but she didn't back away. Her pulse raced in her ears, and the knife at her side felt like the only thing tethering her to reality. She wanted to shout at him, wanted to tell him to back off, but she held her tongue, knowing better than to escalate things.
He took another step toward her, his breath growing heavier, more urgent. "I know you feel it too," Jorund's voice dropped lower, almost a whisper now, as if trying to convince both her and himself.
Freydis wanted to shout, to make him understand. But instead, she found herself struggling to keep her composure, her body tense, weak and sickly. Her thoughts racing for a way out.
He reached out, his hand brushing her arm lightly. It was the first touch, but it felt like an explosion in her chest. The warmth of his fingers sent a ripple of discomfort through her, but she didn't pull away. Stay calm, she told herself. Stay in control.
"Jorund, stop," she said, her voice a little more fragile than she wanted it to be.
He didn't listen. His hand moved to her shoulder, and then to the side of her neck, his thumb grazing the edge of her jawline. She flinched, but he didn't notice—or didn't care. His eyes were locked on hers, searching, pleading. "We're both alone, Freydis. Everyone we've lost... I'm the only one left who understands you. I know what you need."
She stepped back, every fiber of her being screaming to get away, but he followed her, his steps deliberate. "Stop this, Jorund," she said, the words heavy with an edge of finality. "You don't know what you're talking about."
His gaze darkened, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "You're lying to yourself. You don't have to keep pushing me away." His voice softened again, his hand gently cupping her face as he leaned in, his breath hot against her skin. "Let me have you, i will take care of you both," he looked at her belly.
A sick feeling spread through Freydis' chest. She could feel his hand on her skin, his breath too close, and the realization hit her like a blow. She started to walk faster away from him.
The forest was quiet, save for the sound of Jorund's heavy footsteps behind her. Freydis could feel the heat of his pursuit, could hear the creeping steps that followed her. Her mind raced, but each step she took, each breath she drew, felt heavier as his presence grew closer.
"Freydis," Jorund's voice came low, almost a whisper against the rustling of the trees, but it was no less menacing. "I see you've grown tired of running. You think you can outrun me? I've waited long enough."
She didn't respond, keeping her back straight, refusing to show the fear creeping into her chest. Her hand instinctively went to the knife at her side, her fingers brushing the hilt, cold and familiar.
"You always were a wild thing," Jorund said, his tone dripping with dark amusement.
Without warning, he lunged forward, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into his chest. She struggled, but his grip was unyielding. He yanked her close, too close. His breath was foul against her skin, his voice rough and impatient. "I will plow you here."
Freydis fought against him, but her body was pinned beneath his weight. Her heart raced, panic flaring in her chest. His hands roamed, his fingers pressing roughly against her chest, tearing at her clothing. She could feel the heat of his breath against her exposed skin, feel the cold of the night air bite into her flesh.
She gasped, the horror rising in her throat, but she didn't give in. She couldn't give in.
In the brief moment he pulled back to look at her, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and desire, Freydis feigned defeat. Her shoulders slumped, her body limp in his hold, as if she had given in, as if there was no fight left in her. Jorund smiled, satisfied with his perceived victory, his hands greedily caressing her exposed skin, his grip loosening ever so slightly. He explored her body.
In that moment of weakness, Freydis acted. She had to reach the blade's hilt beneath her palm, just within reach. She didn't hesitate. With a swift, practiced motion, she brought the knife up, driving it deep into Jorund's eye, the cold steel slicing through his skull. His body froze for a split second, and she could hear the sickening squelch as the blade pierced deep. His grip loosened completely, his breath faltering as the life drained from him.
Jorund staggered back, one hand clutching his face as he let out a strangled gasp. His fingers dug into his eye socket, but the damage was already done. His body crumpled to the ground, twitching once before stilling. The silence that followed was suffocating.
Freydis's chest heaved, her mind still clouded with adrenaline. She wiped the blood from her hand with the back of her sleeve, but her fingers shook, her body still tense, still on edge. She looked down at Jorund's lifeless form. It was over. But the fear, the sickening feeling, it lingered in her gut.
She turned, taking a final glance at his body before sprinting off into the forest, she saw smoke to the east decided to head towards it hoping it was her comrades. Her breaths came in sharp gasps, her thoughts spinning.