Svala’s cheeks reddened beneath the cowl of her wraps, words stunned from her lips by the young man’s easy compliments, both pretty and unexpected. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t pleased. She was, if only for that infectiously happy, dimpled grin. 

But the young woman was also keenly aware of eyes turned on her now, and the judgment of her family that would certainly come by her actions, her honor a reflection on her father, her brother… Svala was no wanton, and she bit her lip softly as she moved past the elder of Ragnar’s men. She glanced up from beneath her hood as he swiped the dark hair from his face, and found much to like in those solemn, thoughtful eyes.

Though Svala found much more to appreciate in his words, spoken low, softly, though she caught them nonetheless. She stopped for a moment despite the sleet, and glanced over her shoulder to the elder of the two men. A wide sweet smile graced him, grateful and genuine though she could not know if he noticed or no. Svala had reason to be out in this weather at any rate, and flirting was assuredly [i]not[/i] that reason.

She turned away once more, and trotted toward her Madir who seemed engrossed in some intense conversation with the housekarl Loker.

Hallerna never once expected to be so handily disarmed by words alone. Like a petulant child she'd been spoiling for a fight, furious she'd been so utterly helpless to keep all the little family she had left safe from harm. But the first words of danger to [i]all[/i] the children in Trelleborg stopped her cold, like a much-needed slap to the face though Loker had done nothing of the sort. No, it was his words, reasonable and assured, the calm acknowledgement that her family had been wronged, insulted, but that exacting her rights could only call down pain and blood on the heads of innocent and guilty alike... 

Like a torch tossed into a bucket of water, all her fury was extinguished in an instant. She could see full well how ridiculous she was being, that she should in no way invite Harald’s notice, for the sake of her girls if nothing else. The realization left behind something far smaller and colder in her chest than her righteous fury, not much more than a lump of ash in its wake. Hallerna's axe-wielding arm fell back to her side and she wrapped her arms about her chest almost protectively, though she still clutched its handle.

Loker’s thoughts moved as swiftly as his words. Hallerna did not miss the layers of worry that weighted the housekarl’s voice and creased his otherwise handsome face, and she instantly regretted adding one more care to his already heavy load. The young Jarl had still not returned, had he? Nor had any one of the search parties, the seidrmadr among them - and [i]still[/i] Loker found the wherewithal to offer her family protection, an unexpected sanctuary though her pride prickled at the thought this might be something like… [i]Charity.[/i] 

“Madir? Madir, you are soaked right through! Ah! Where would we be if you were sick, hmm?” It was Svala’s voice that snapped her from her reverie. Hallerna glanced up at her brave, beautiful daughter as she approached, unfolding her cloak with one hand as she made to wrap it about her mother’s shoulders, pulling the hood carefully about her mother’s face. 

Hallerna was chilled to her very bones, but the wraps were warm, and warmer still from being held dry beside her daughter’s beating heart. So like a little mother she was, her pretty Svala. She should have a babe in her arms one day… Perhaps she should have had one already, but there was no changing what was past. Only what was to come.

“Tomorrow,” Hallerna said finally, her mind decided in that one tender gesture by Svala. Dignity be damned. If anything should happen to her girls, there would be no comfort found in her pride. There would be no comfort found in this life ever again. 

“Tomorrow morning we will all come to stay at the Hall. We’ll just need some time to gather our things.” The truth of the matter was that packing all their worldly goods, all they had fled with from the farm or scavenged from the village this morning, would take a total of ten minutes at best - but Hallerna refused to appear a beggar before the housekarl.

Svala’s eyebrows lifted in surprise though she wisely said nothing. She’d not forgotten the conversation overheard that very morning, but there was something in the housekarl’s gaze as he looked at her Madir that struck her as… Interesting. That he seemed near reluctant to turn his gaze away. 

“We’ll not be useless mouths to feed though, nor cause Freya a moment’s regret for your offer,” Hallerna continued, the very act of making that decision seeming to sweep away any remaining doubts. “It seems your bread Svala, was well-received. And Eyja is a hard worker, only young enough to still need some direction. Even that kitten of hers will learn to mouse for his meals… “ 

Hallerna smiled, truly smiled as she wrapped her arm about Svala’s shoulders and pulled her close, kissing the top of her daughter’s hooded head tenderly before looking back to Loker once more.

“Thank you,” she breathed softly, not realizing the words came out a sigh of relief. “And yes, it was the painted man, the Christian who fought the raiders. Orran is his name, and he forsook the search party to… To watch over my daughters. Far more than ‘mouthy’ to me and mine, I’m sure you’ll understand. I owe him a great deal as well – at the very least, a hot meal.

“You speak wisdom, Loker. Let’s all be out of this weather.”