Accords: The Beginning

Another image prompt that happens to work perfectly with Bjarke's story! I was so excited to see it today. I've neglected Bjarke and Iona for the past week, the poor ducks. I've been working on more of their adventures. It's time Iona to attempt to learn manners. I predict chaos will ensue and everyone in the village will be treated to a great big headache. I'm excited to delve deeper into Iona and who she is.

Also, reddit user, drawswpsometimes drew an absolutely brilliant and beautiful version of the last scene in the first Bjarke and Iona story. They sent me the entire story board they did and I almost cried at how wonderful and beautiful it was! It was published on their tumblr (unknowingly) on my birthday. It was a great surprise birthday present from one of the great people of the interwebs.

Please enjoy this tidbit. No Iona in it though. I used the prompt as a jumping point of how Bjarke and his crew stumbled upon her little bit of land. Things may change as I delve deeper but who knows! I overlapped some of the first story at the end for it to make a bit more sense.

[IP] To the Ends of Midgard

The longship slipped through the thick fog, obscuring the carved bow. The men working the oars murmured and prayed to the gods. These waters were cursed and many a valiant Viking had perished in search of treasures. Bjarke, however, was not afraid.

"Are you sure this is wise?" the burly Viking's second in command, Rangvald asked. "This soup we are sailing in is putting the men on edge."

"They're strapping lads," Bjarke said, peering out into the mist. "They just need to make a slow go of it."

Rangvald shrugged and went back to work. He was as uneasy as the men, but he trusted Bjarke to guide them true and bring them back to their home shores.

While he was not afraid, the blond bearded Viking knew he had to be cautious. In the back of his mind, Bjarke wished Tur was on board the longship. Besides the fact that she was a top notch rat catcher, the black cat always seemed to bring good luck to the ship. But she had just mothered a litter of kittens right before they left the village and he hadn't been able to pull her from them. He didn't like to admit it, but Bjarke doted on Tur more than most did to their cats, but he did the same for Finnr, his watch dog.

"Easy men," he called over the deck. "Keep her steady. We should be out of this mess soon."

The crew jumped slightly at the sudden sound, Bjarke's voice was quickly swallowed up by the thick haze. His well manicured fingers tightened on the rudder. He had made many trips like this one, but a foreboding feeling was burrowed deep in his chest, next to his heart. With each beat, the sensation increased.

"Rocks ahead," Rangvald cried suddenly, spurning the entire crew into action. "Veer to your right!"

The crew strained at the oars, while Bjarke kept a white knuckled grip on the smooth wooden handle. Sea water sprayed the men and beads of sweat flew from their foreheads with the effort of steering the boat through the outcropping of large rock formations. They loomed like giants above the men, ready to dash the ship on their rocky bases.

Bjarke could barely take time to appreciate the massiveness of them and their beauty as he fought to keep the boat away from the formations. They rose out of the water like the fingers of the gods, ready to grab the insignificant boats and gobble the men up with greedy mouths. The Viking strained at the rudder and tried to peer past the upcoming rock formation. It seemed to be lighter up ahead.

"Steady men!" Bjarke shouted over the crew's grunts. "I see sun up ahead."

The longship glided out of the mist and the crew breathed a sigh of relief.

"Rán bless us," Bjarke sighed under his breath.

That had been slightly terrifying. The rock formations had appeared out of nowhere.

"Well, that was a great exercise," Rangvald joked from the bow. "What's next?"

Bjarke and several of the crew members gestured rudely to the second in command who chuckled.

As they emerged from the mist, the longship approached a small spit of land, barely visible through the choppy waves. The air was silent, the sound of the oars splashing in the water the only noise. No birds and no sound of the waves. Bjarke squinted at the tiny bit of land and blinked. Had something moved?

A voice, like liquid gold, rang out, catching the attention of the crew. The voice tumbled over the open water like a river over rocks, sweet and promising. Bjarke heard the melodious voice sail over the sides of the longship, weaving promises in the minds of those around him.

For the love of Odin, he thought, rolling his eyes. It's a damn Siren.

Extra notes time! I did some research again because I would like to keep this story at least somewhat based in reality. Like all good seafaring folk, I thought it was good to give them a healthy dose of superstitions. According to this website , it was good luck to have a black cat aboard a ship. Bjarke named her Tur, which means "luck" in Swedish.

Bjarke also mentions Finnr, his dog. Finnr is a Norwegian Buhund, also know as the Norsk Buhund and the Norwegian Sheepdog. Apparently, the Norwegian Buhund is one of the oldest known spitz breeds and were used by vikings to herd sheep and as watch dogs. Like most spitz, they're probably too smart for their own good. According to this website, Finnr means "magician" and is believed to have derived from Finnar, who were considered to be powerful magic workers. Now, for anyone who has read the first part of Accords, we all know Bjarke knows magic thanks to his mother. His secret is hiding in plain sight in the name of his dog.

Rán is the Norse goddess of the sea.