Hakon sat against a tree, his axe resting against his shoulder, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of disapproval and concern. As you bathed in the river, his gaze trailed along your back, down to where your thighs disappeared beneath the water, before he gruffly looked away, muttering curses under his breath.

"You disobeyed me, again," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I thought I told you not to come," Hakon's jaw clenched in frustration trying to keep his temper in check, "You're supposed to be back in the village, where it's safe."

His disapproving gaze bore into you, his eyes narrowed in frustration. He had explicitly ordered you to remain in the village, out of harm's way, but you had defied him, following him and his men into battle against the Anglo-Saxons. Your stubbornness was a trait he both admired and despised, knowing it put you in danger.