Camp: Lagertha/Ragnar
He had awoken in the middle of the night to relieve his bladder when he found her missing. No disturbance to their camp, no tracks, no screams or grunts had awoken him as he knew there would be if someone had physically taken her. No, she was simply not there. Perhaps she had risen to relieve herself as well. Rolling his shoulders, he walked to just inside the woods to ease the pressure off his bladder.
She was strong. Capable. There was no reason to be concerned, but by the time he returned, she was still not back yet. If she had left of her own free will, she would have taken her bedroll and her horse. If they had been set upon by bandits, there would have been noise and they would have taken the horses. Something else was afoot.
He laid back down on the covers of his own roll, one hand on the knife at his hip and stared up at the stars. A visit by the Gods? He had that once, in a forest full of memories, and instead of returning to sleep, his eyes remained open, taking in the lights dotting Ymir's skull.
It was much later when he finally heard noise and watched as she came back to camp and sat. The look on her face was far more telling of where she had been. He had felt the same way after that trip through his memories and he sat up slowly, not saying anything, but simply gazing at her. Then, without a word, he reached for the skin of water and held it out to her. It was not ale and had he had that to offer, he would have, but he did not. He had water. And it was hers to have.