| 4:16p |
Divinity and the devine.
After tidying up the kitchen, Ragnar had helped himself to a few of the cylinders of metal that contained alcohol, not bothering with the can's pull tab he just bit into it, snorting and coughing in supprise when he got a high pressure jet of beer shoot into his mouth. He used the ring pull on the second can.
Spying a hearth with coals and wood in it the Marine got a fire going and he hauled one of the couches round so he could sit looking into the fires, listening to the crack and pop of the wood, the wind hissing through the trees outside. It was..strange to be at peace like this, it was almost meditative for him.
Unbidden the lyrics of a song came to mind, not one of the rowdy songs sung at the feasts, far from it. But for the life of him Ragnar could not remember where he had heard it, it was of Fenris that he was sure. But where.. He didn't even realise he was singing it quietly, looking into the fire, trying once more to grasp at smoke in his mind
"Heyr, himna smiður,
hvers skáldið biður.
Komi mjúk til mín
miskunnin þín.
Því heit eg á þig,
þú hefur skaptan mig.
Eg er þrællinn þinn,
þú ert drottinn minn.
Óðinn, heit eg á þig,
að þú græðir mig.
Minnst þú, mildingur, mín,
mest þurfum þín.
Ryð þú, röðla gramur,
ríklyndur og framur,
hölds hverri sorg
úr hjartaborg.
Gæt þú, alvaldur, mín,
mest þurfum þín,
helzt hverja stund
á hölda grund.
Send þú, konungur Russ,
málsefnin fögur,
öll er hjálp af þér,
í hjarta mér."
The words were a prayer, a prayer for peace, strength and fortitude..and Ragnar could not remember where he'd heard them, only that some time in his life, he had.
When he finished Ragnar snorted, his eyes damp The heat from the Hearth no doubt.. |