Saga was somewhere completely dark. No matter where she looked, she couldn't see anything. Even as she tried to hold her hand in front of her face, she couldn't see it. But she felt calm, especially as a certainty settled in her.

She was asleep. She was dreaming.

It wasn't like any dream she had ever had before, though. Nothing was happening. It was just her and the endless darkness.

Hoping something would change, that she would get some indication as to what the dream was, she began walking. Or at least she thought she did, but it was hard knowing if she truly moved anywhere in the vast darkness.

"Saga of the house of Sejd," a voice whispered in the dark. It was one she recognised, a voice with its seductive danger that she had heard once before in her dreams as she had been ill.

She was sure the voice was dangerous, but as the only thing apart from the darkness, she followed it when it said her name again.

The shape of a person formed, a shape covered completely in a cloak which hung to cover the person's face.

"So good to see you, Saga of the house of Sejd," the person said, and based on the deepness of the voice, Saga assumed it was a man.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"You'll find that out later, but now is not the time for it," the man said, the silky quality to his voice drawing her in, making her take a step closer to him.

"What do you want with me?" she asked next.

"For now, I only wanted to meet you, and compliment you. Your magic truly is impressive."

She opened her mouth to refute him, to tell him her magic was far from impressive. That it in fact was dangerous and something she wanted more than anything to be rid of. But before she had time to, he dissolved, and the darkness slowly dispersed to make way for a new scene.

It was a market place with vendors on both sides of the street. A group of people stood in a ring, whispering amongst each other. In the middle of it, two guards held on to a boy while facing a woman. The boy and the woman were the same that Saga had dreamt about before. The boy, who looked familiar, and the woman, who looked almost identical to herself. Though, the boy was clearly much younger than during the last dream.

"We caught him stealing," one of the guards said.

"Release him," the woman answered, but the guards held even harder, hard enough that the boy flinched. The woman's eyes narrowed as she saw it.

"We need to bring him in for proper justice," the guard argued.

"And how are you going to punish a starving boy who's no older than seven? Release him. Now," the woman commanded, and though the guards hesitated a moment longer, they did as she had ordered.

She walked over to the boy, who looked at her with eyes no boy his age should have. Eyes which appraised her to know how much danger she posed to him. But she smiled at him in return and bent down so they were at the same height.

"What's your name?" she asked the boy.

The boy's brown eyes narrowed a bit. Looked her over once more as if deciding if he could trust her or not. Then his expression relaxed and he opened his mouth to answer.

But Saga never got to hear what the boy's name was as she woke up.

It was much too bright in the bedroom for it to still be morning, meaning she had slept, had wasted, far too many hours. Especially considering the attack during the night. As the Lady of the household, she should have been up early to see if there was anything she could help with in the aftermath of the attack. There had to be more people injured and cleaning to be done.

She pushed herself to a sitting position, resolved to quickly get dressed and then find something she could help with. But as she sat, her eyes immediately found Viggo's brown ones.

By reflex she drew the blanket closer to her body as she awaited his anger.

"How have you slept?" he asked, his tone much gentler than it had been the night before.

"Good," she answered, then took him in more clearly.

His hair was dishevelled and some parts of it were dried together with blood. The clothes he wore were also stained red. His position on the armchair was hunched forward with his shoulders lowered almost in defeat, and dark circles grew under his eyes.

"Have you slept at all?" she asked.

His lips tugged upwards a bit, but then slacked to point downwards. "No."

Silence fell between them, making the air heavy and hard to breathe as Saga waited for more. For the tired calm he displayed to roar into anger. For the inevitable punishment to come.

"It was stupid of you to leave this room in the middle of an attack," he broke the silence. "You could have been hurt, or worse."

Saga looked at her fingers, which had started picking on her nails. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"If there ever is an attack again, you are to stay in here, no matter what. Understood?" he continued, his voice growing harsher with each word.

"I understand," she answered as tears stung her eyes.

A heavy silence fell again, and Saga concentrated on breathing calmly. She did not want to give Viggo another reason to be upset with her by breaking down crying.

Then he sighed. A deep exhausted one. "You have no idea how scared I was seeing you out there."

Her breathing faltered as she looked up again. His head hung, and he had placed his elbows to his knees, his hands supporting his head. It wasn't at all like how she had ever seen him before. He had always been so steady, seemed unbreakable. But now it looked as if he was suffering from something immense.

"I was worried you'd get hurt," he continued. "I've not been scared like that since..." His words broke off and he shook his head. Then he looked up again, met her eyes. His were pained. "I'm sorry about how I reacted yesterday morning. I know you were only worried about me, and I shouldn't have got angry with you because of it."

Saga stared at him, unable to form any response. She was even unable to form any thoughts. It was the first time in her life that she could remember anyone apologising to her. The maids at her father's had often sneered at her. Embla, her sister, had several times made biting remarks. And her father had done her wrong in all possible ways. But no one had ever apologised to her for anything. More often had they blamed their behaviour on her.

So she had no idea how to answer Viggo. She didn't even know what to feel.

"And I apologise if I sounded harsh after the attack," Viggo went on when she didn't say anything. "But you need to understand, Saga, that you never have to worry about me in a battle. Especially not when it's only some measly dire wolves and goblins attacking. I am more than capable of dealing with any danger."

"Okay," she managed to get out, though it felt as if she was choking on the word. And as soon as it was out the tears, which had been threatening, came out as well.

Viggo rose from the armchair and went over to her instantly; sat on the bed next to her. He extended his hand toward her, but stopped the action. Before Saga had time to overthink what the hesitation meant, he mumbled, "I should have cleaned myself."

Not until then did Saga see that it wasn't only the clothes and his hair which were covered in dried blood. His hands and up his neck had some as well. But she didn't care. She wasn't entirely sure why she was crying, but she knew she wanted him to hug her like he had the previous times when she had cried in his presence. She wanted that warmth and to feel completely that it was okay, that he wasn't angry, that he wasn't going to punish her.

So she moved a bit closer and looked up at him through her tears. He gave her a soft smile and opened his arms. She didn't need any more invitation, but placed herself on his lap. Leaned her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.

"You're not... You're not angry with me?" she asked when the tears had slowed while he rubbed circles on her back.

"No," he murmured and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"And you won't..." Saga swallowed hard, and her voice was weak as she spoke. "You won't hurt me? You won't punish me?"

Viggo let go of her a bit to look at her with a deep frown. "What would I punish you for?"

Staring at her hands, she said, "I disobeyed you by not staying in the bedroom."

"Why would I punish you for that?"

The only thing she could do was shake her head. A better question really was why he wasn't punishing her. She had been punished for much lesser transgressions by her father, after all. Such a big transgression deserved consequences.

"Never think I would punish you. By the gods, Saga, all I want is for you to be safe and happy. I could never... Even just thinking... I will never hurt you. No matter what you do, never think I would hurt you."

She pressed her head against his chest again so his shirt soaked up the fresh batch of tears. And while she cried, she tried to believe his words. He had never shown any signs of wanting to raise his hand against her, even as he had got mad. But whispers in her mind kept telling her it was only a matter of time before she did something which would lead to punishment.

"Why did you think I would?" he asked with a voice which shook slightly.

Her mind worked at full speed to come up with something to say, a reason which didn't give away how used to punishment she was.

"Has someone hurt you as a form of punishment in the past?" he continued questioning when her answer didn't come.

"No," she hurried with saying, though kept her eyes against his chest. Certain he would see what a blatant lie it was otherwise. "It's just... I'm your wife. And it's not unheard of husbands punishing their wives when they disobey."

Her body trembled as she waited for his response to know if he had believed her lie or not.

"Those types of people aren't men," he said, his voice sounding almost menacing. "They are weaklings who deserve to rot in a cell somewhere."

A sigh escaped her, and her body relaxed. He had believed her words. Her secret remained safe.