While his brother allowed himself to be guided by intuition, Ragnarr was a creature driven by instinct. While he would never openly express uncertainty about his brother’s ability to lead, even though Lorel was hardly more than a colt – still young, with much to learn and experience. Ragnarr would never doubt the things that Lorel told him, and he’d never ignore a warning from Lorel, nor any of his brothers, he’d never stray from the raw and natural senses that guided him. So even as he surged through the water, leaving Lorel behind him as he headed for the largest of the islands, with its mighty monolith, Ragnarr did not look back.

What lay behind; the northern island and it’s terrain that was reminiscent of a place far from here (one that Ragnarr loved and hated in equal measure), was not where he wanted to be. Strong legs carried him safely through the water, chipped hooves cutting through the seafoam. Ragnarr had been born with ís eldur in his veins, and nothing he ever did was without passion. Even as he shook the sand from his thick, pale hide and headed inland, he did not slow, nor waver from his goal of reaching the mountain. It towered out of the land, casting shadow upon everything around it, and Ragnarr’s glittered beneath his heavy, tangled forelock as he neared the base. It was a challenge that only the worthy could conquer.

To Ragnarr, the Mountain was alive, unfurling before him twisting paths that sometimes deceived him and turned him back. Snorting in frustration more than once, a tumble of rocks from above was taken by the Icelandic warrior as the Mountain’s amusement. But nothing would deter him. He’d come across none on the rocky slopes he traversed with care and confidence, and had come across scents, both old and muddled, and fresh and foreign, but among them was one that sank like a hook into Ragnarr’s heart, and pulled him along. He couldn’t be certain, but the icefire in his veins burned with anticipation, as if knowing what awaited him.

Suddenly, the sky opened up above him, and he found himself at the pinnacle, the very Peak. The exertion of the long, steady climb, after the swim to the islands had taken its toll on him, but still he did not falter in his stride as he approached. Raw, rushing breaths left his nostrils, and he inhaled the fresh, cool air, made all the sweeter for the lone mare’s scent, which danced around him on the breeze that tugged at his thick mane. “Ah, ég hefði átt að vita það. Of course it would be you that I’d find here. You certainly lead me to the most interesting of places, freistandi einn.” Ragnarr’s voice was deep. There was a huskiness to it that went beyond the dryness of his throat, and the strain of the climb.

“It has been years, Lagertha...” he trailed off, voice dropping into a ragged murmur. “Too long.” Though his words were brusque, they were heavy with emotions that rarely surfaced in the smoky grullo stallion. Deep within the scarred, half-blind stallion, there beat a heart as capable of loving as any other, but this heart was proud and stoic, unforgiving, and only a very small number would find an everlasting place within it. “The Dreymandi told me I would find you again, but even without his reassurance, I knew our paths would cross one of these days.” And even though he desired nothing more than to close the distance between them and embrace her, it had been years, and both of them had grown.

There were some things, though, that even the passage of time could not change. Both he and Lagertha were Bardaga Andar, and this would never change. So, Ragnarr keeps his distance for now, pacing, slowly circling, searching through this grown mare for the Baráttuandi in her that he’d witnessed in their younger years, and had forever set her apart from all others in his sight.

And suddenly, at just the right angle, the sun shines upon her face and casts a glow around her. The breath leaves Ragnarr’s lungs in a rush, and his heart drums a war dance in his chest. The battle-marked warrior dares take one step closer to the maiden, parts his muzzle and whispers hoarsely. “I see you.”