THANK YOU TO: klove93, Decepticon Chick, hoekage95, and faultinourpeeta for fav/following. I say this every time but it is appreciated.

Guest: Thank you so much, I've been trying to build the plot up instead of almost being halfway through the season by the seventh chapter like last time. I was making a chapter per episode and that would've only been around 10 chapters and it just wasn't long enough for me (even though the chapters were getting to be over 5,000+ words...but still. Anyway, thank you:)

hoekage95: THANK YOU I am so glad that you like it. Your review left me with the biggest smile on my face and I am so, so, so grateful for your support.


You Should See Me in a Crown
Chapter Seven

I don't know exactly how to describe my emotions when I see the face of my older brother.

Like almost all of the Northmen I've seen in my life, he ages like wine. He's handsome and still looks strong, if not stronger.

Mother and father would be proud of how he carries himself.

"Issy." He says calmly, causing me to be brought back from my thoughts.

I look at Ivar, Hvitserk and Ubbe, realizing they planned this. I suppose this is the closest thing to forgiveness any of them are giving at the moment.

"Sidka." I say with a smile, tears coming to my eyes.

I've missed him.

I rush to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and he picks me up, squeezing me tightly.

"Issy," he whispers in my ear, his lips pressing to my hair.

"I thought you had died." I admit lowly, pulling away to look at him, my fingers brushing over his cheek bones.

"I stayed behind in Northumbria to fight off illness." He explains and I furrow my brows in worry.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I quit drinking." He tells me in a serious tone. "My body endured Hel when I stopped but I am well now."

"Why did you—"

"We learned of your residence here and if I were to cross paths with you again, I did not want to be drunk." He admits to me and I raise my brows, turning slowly to look at Ivar.

"You knew I was in England?" I ask him sharply and he gives me a smug smirk.

"King Ecbert mentioned you were in Sherborne to Bjorn."

"And what else did that cowardly bastard mention about me?" I ask sharply, my nerves struck at the fact that Ragnar's indirect killer had my name leaving his mouth at some point.

Delilah clears her throat, causing me to look at her and she shakes her head slightly as if to calm me down before I start an argument.

"You will have to ask Bjorn. He only told him, Bjorn relayed it back to us."

Heahmund must've gotten the message to the fallen King that Synnove and Erling Youngblood's child was in England.

This sends a violent chill down my spine, and I wonder if Ecbert told Bjorn I was Christian. Surely he didn't, or Bjorn would have told his brothers...or would he?

"You did not change your name upon arrival and rumors spread quickly." Sidka tells me. "I figured you would have."

"Why?" I ask before I can stop myself. The kind, loving demeanor of my brother shifts and he breathes out heavily.

"I guess I thought because you left, you were ashamed of where you came from and wanted to get away from us. I always assumed I'd never see you again because you would change your name to avoid crossing path's with us further." He explains.

"I am so glad you once thought so much of your little sister, Sidka." I sarcastically reply, a hand over my heart before I look at Ivar. "Is that another story Arne Stronghold and Daan Reinorson tell about me? That after I, so cowardly, fled that I even went as far as changing my name to completely help myself forget where I came from because I was so ashamed?"

"You are overreacting." He states simply, dragging himself to his chariot that awaits beside my, Delilah's, Hvitserk's and Ubbe's horses.

"Says the one who killed his brother because he was spreading lies about him. Two men are spreading lies about me and yet you tell me I am overreacting when I get angry over it?"

He stops in his tracks at the mention of Sigurd, and grabs my ankle, forcing me beneath him when I fall.

I expect Sidka to take a step forward or drag Ivar off of me, if this were four years ago he would have. Instead Delilah makes a deliberate step towards me, causing Hvitserk to hold his arm out to stop her.

"You do not question what I do, Iskra." Ivar threatens me lowly, the blade of one of his throwing knives grazing my cheek. "If I tell you to stop doing something, you obey and when I tell you to let something go, you drop it. I don't want to hear anything else regarding what people say about you. The only thing that matters is what I and the Gods think of you. No one else. Understood?" It's as if the few people around us are least of my worries at the moment, my full attention of Ivar.

"Yes." I say quietly and he moves away from me, letting himself leave.


I pour Sidka some more water as he continues to tell Delilah and I of his raiding with Hvitserk, Floki, Bjorn, Rollo, King Harald Finehair, Halfdan the Black and many others in land that surrounded the Mediterranean.

He spoke of the rich markets that carried everything from precious jewels to fresh produce and fine meats. He tells us of how Floki defended the people their when they invaded a temple used to worship their God, Allah, and how beautiful the women were - each of them wrapped in beaded silks of all different colors. He doesn't go in to detail, but from the way he and Hvitserk are grinning at each other, they obviously sampled some of these women.

"Is that the God you worshipped growing up?" Hvitserk asks Delilah when they're on the topic of the religion practiced there. "Allah?"

"I always believed there was no such thing as a God." She tells them. "Not Allah, nor Jesus, nor Odin. I believed that until I came to England."

"Ah." Sidka nods, quietly picking off pieces of bread from the loaf he and Hvitserk were sharing.

"What land did you explore?" Delilah asks him with a curious tone in her voice. I know she didn't care for them killing innocents and obtaining fine treasures, but she enjoyed hearing of explorations.

"They called it Algeciras, Spain." He says to her and her tan skin pales ghostly.

Her homeland.

"How bad was the slaughter?" She asks next, causing Ivar to cut his eyes at her.

He's been quietly listening to their stories as well, nursing a horn of mead as he picks meat off of a rib.

Sidka looks at Hvitserk, trying to agree on an estimate to give her on idea of how many were killed.

"More dead than not." He finally states and her brows arch. "Why?"

She swallows thickly, standing from where she's seated on the ground., careful not to wake Kezikai.

"What is wrong?" Hvitserk asks her, reaching up from where he's seated and grabbing her wrist when she tries to step past him.

"I feel ill." She tells him lowly, obviously holding back tears.

"We have a healer-"

"I just need some time to myself." She interrupts him and he frowns slightly, releasing her.

When she's out of earshot, Ivar looks at his confused brother and chuckles.

Hvitserk only sighs heavily and glares at his younger brother before he stands and leaves to go after her.

I decide not to follow him, knowing the two of them probably wanted privacy for their inevitable argument.

Later in the night, I finished serving the now mostly sleeping men and women laying down wherever they can rest their heads, and make my way to the church to bid my brother, Ivar, Hvitserk, Ubbe and Delilah goodnight.

When I arrive, I raise my brow at the sight of Freydis perched on Ivar's lap, hand feeding him ripe berries.

I'm tempted to throw up the bread and few bites of meat I had earlier.

The two of them stop when they see me, a smile still splayed on the slave's lips, but Ivar looks at me with distaste.

Ubbe, Hvitserk and my brother are nowhere to be seen, but Delilah is asleep on the ground next to a pillar with Kezikai tucked under her arm, resting on the fur Hvitserk usually keeps on him when it's really cold out.

"Yes, slave?" Ivar's name for me has me snapping out of my thoughts and I furrow my brows a little.

"What?" I ask without thinking.

Surely...surely, he wasn't speaking to me like that.

I might not have the courage to fight him, but I sure as hell would have no problem strangling the girl in his lap with her own long, blonde hair, until her face turned blue and her heart stopped.

"Why have you disturbed me?" He asks next in a harsher tone.

"I was going to bid you goodnight." I explain. "But seeing as you're occupied-"

"You may go now," He tells Freydis, and she gives a tiny pout. "I will have plenty for you to do tomorrow and you need your rest so that you are able to keep up." His hand slips up her thigh in an extravagant show, rubbing it in my face that he's not interested in what I have to offer any longer, and I try to hold back the biting anger within me.

She smiles at the provocative undertones his words promise, before she nods.

"Yes, my prince." She says quietly, sweetly, and I have to force myself not to throw my shoe at her.

She slides off of his lap, making sure to put emphasized movement over his groin as she goes and I swallow the chuckle that dares to leave me. She's wasting her time trying to get a reaction out of his cock, that's all I'm going to say.

She gives me a smug, yet innocent look that screams "game on" and I watch after her as she leaves, not turning to face Ivar until she's shut the door.

Little does she know I am the queen of playing dirty to get what I want.

I already have one advantage: I know what makes Ivar tick. And pleasures of the flesh only interest him at certain times. She can't expect to flip her skirt up at him at any time and get ravaged.

I always think of it similar to witching hour being at 3 in the morning because that's when the veil from this world and the spiritual world is at its weakest.

With Ivar, there is a certain time where he is more susceptible to seduction, as this world is more susceptible to wandering spirits and easier communication between worlds at 3 in the morning.

Ivar's "witching hour", I've learned, is typically when he's happy or in a decent mood. Trying to distract him when he's stressed or angry only causes him to lash out more and from experience, it comes with an onslaught of abuse.

So, Freydis should appreciate being able to crawl in to his lap like a little dog, because once the high from conquering York is blown, and he's back to stressing over keeping enemies away, she'll get herself a brutal beating when she tries to distract him from the tasks that will be at his hands. And something tells me she won't take such punishment as well as I was able to...partly because I liked when he was angry. A fucked up part of me found such rage and threat to be desirable. He scared me, but I had nearly been addicted to the euphoric release when he would angrily cut in to my skin with a knife, or pin me to the bed and drive his fingers in to me at a pace that would leave bruising in me so badly, he'd have to wait two weeks in order to toy with me again without me crying in pain.

I remember one time in particular, I had tried to cheer him up after he had gotten in a mood thinking about his father's absence. He acted like he was repulsed that I would dare "offer my body to him like a desperate whore" and "act like the mediocrity I had to offer would take his mind off of his father". The word "mediocrity" is what set me off. That was the first and last time I fought back just as aggressively as him. I had kept my mouth closed, gathering a good amount of saliva as he continued his fit, and when he finally was almost done, I spit in his face.

I had yelped like a dog having her foot stepped on when the back of his hand contacted my jaw. The impact left a bruise that I had to blame on a our family's goat kicking me when trying to milk her.

No. I don't think sweet Freydis is prepared for the kind of monster he's capable of being when the mood strikes him.

He says something to me, and I don't comprehend he's speaking until he's finished, waiting for me to answer.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask, pulling myself from my thoughts.

"I said, 'have you done what I asked of you tonight?'" He repeats lowly, staring at me from where he's seated on a wood chair, making it seem as if he were on a throne.

"I served the warriors and shield-maidens throughout the night. The only time I stopped was to check on Delilah and the short period I spent with Sidka." I answer him truthfully.

"Mmm." He hums with a single nod. "How are your wounds?" He asks next and I look at him pointedly.

"Why don't you ask Freydis? She's been tracking their progress." It wasn't a lie, regardless of how I feel about her, she did make sure Delilah and I were healing properly.

"Are you jealous of my actions taken with her?"

"I am not jealous." I cut my eyes at him, despising the smug expression on his face. "My prince." I mimic Freydis' sickeningly sweet voice and he lets out a bark of laughter.

"You and I were once together, so that means I cannot appreciate other women?" He asks with faux confusion.

"I don't see you appreciating her unless you know I am bound to show up at some point."

"You think way too highly of yourself if you think I plan my time with her around whether you will see us together or not." He sneers out and I ball my fists up before breathing out.

"Fine." I agree to disagree, turning on my heel.

"Did I dismiss you?" He stops me in a harsh tone and I stop in my tracks and look at her from over my shoulder.

"Excuse me, my prince, I'm going to see if Ubbe wants to be appreciated."

It was a low blow. One that ruined his decent mood quickly and had dark shadows clouding in his blue eyes.

"That's not amusing, Iskra." He growls out and I cross my arms.

"Doesn't sit well with you, does it? Picturing me fucking someone else?"

Delilah would have a fit if she heard me cursing in church, but she's asleep.

"What she and I would do is nothing compared to what you would do with Ubbe." He says dangerously.

"And why's that?" I ask, though I know damn well why, but he needs humbling the way he thought I needed it when he ordered for my whipping and enslaving.

His fists just clench around the armrests of the chair and I raise a brow.

"Goodnight, Boneless." I bow my head, leaving, and immediately regretting the newfound courage that had pushed from me.


In the many days to follow, Ivar and I avoided each other. Simply because I had retreated back in to my shell of utter fear of him and he didn't want to acknowledge my existence because I belittled him.

It wasn't until I had no choice to speak to him that I actually did, and it didn't go as civil as I assumed it would.

"Issy," My brother nudges me with his boot. "Wake up." He urges and I wave him off, groaning in displeasure. "Iskra." He repeats, this time less patient.

He huffs out a breath, and I hear him walking away. Perhaps he'll leave me alone.

I damn that thought to hell at the feeling of ice water stabbing in to my skin like sharp blades.

"Sidka!" I scream, my body now drenched in water he just threw on me. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!"

"I told you to get up. This is not time for defiance, Issy. There are Saxon forces on their way here. Me and a few others are about to go do some hunting before they arrive and I need you to find Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar and warn them about the Saxons, in case they have not heard yet."

"Why don't you go tell them?"

"Because I don't know where they are and I asked you to. I stopped drinking for you, you spoiled brat, the least you could do is what I ask of you." He points out.

"Fine." I roll my eyes, getting up and shivering from the watery fabric of my dress sticking to me. Sidka laughs at this and I give him a death glare. "I hate you."

"I'm aware. Stay out of trouble while I'm gone." He gently pats my cheek and takes his leave with the hunting party.

I curse under my breath and set out to find the three Ragnarssons.

I find Ubbe and Hvitserk by water troughs, splashing their faces to help themselves wake up.

"Where is Delilah?" I ask Hvitserk and he sighs.

"I saw her earlier with the bloody baby she's carrying around." He gives a shrug, wiping water off his face with the back of his hand and I raise a brow.

"Mmmhmm." I hum, secretly accusing him of caring more about her than what he's let on and he narrows his eyes at me daringly. "My brother wants me to inform you two that a Saxon army, I assume is being lead by King Aethelwulf, is on it's way here.

Ubbe looks at me with furrowed brows.

"Does Ivar know this?" He asks me and I blink at him.

"Go ask him." I give him a look and he glances at Hvitserk and then back at me.

"What happened between you two, Issy, that's gotten you two so damned repulsed by each other all the sudden?"

"Are we going to pretend the past four years where I was practically dead to all of you didn't happen because I would say he's still pissed about that." I point out and they don't say a word.

"Very well," Ubbe finally says under his breath, sighing. "Let us go warn him."

I reluctantly follow them, keeping an eye out for Delilah on the way to the church. I find her with Kezikai in one arm, and a hen in the other. Kezi was occupied with poking the feathered animal, giggling.

"Lilah," I catch her attention and she looks at the three of us.

She goes to put the chicken down, but the young boy in her arms puts up a whiny fight.

"We will come back and see her." She assures him soothingly, standing from her crouch and walking to us. Ubbe and Hvitserk are several paces in front of us, and she looks at me worriedly.

"What is wrong?" She asks, feeling the uneasy vibe in the air.

"Saxons are coming."

"What?" She furrows her brows. "King Aethelwulf and his soldiers?"

"I assume so."

"Heahmund is among them, Issy."

"I know."

"They will recognize us."

"I know."

"Are you not going to try to escape like you normally would do?" She asks with all jokes aside. The thought of fleeing again has crossed my mind since Sidka told me we would be attacked and I lick my lips. "Are you going to fight alongside your people?" she adds.

"Are you?" I flip the question on her and she opens and closes her mouth.

"Do you not want the Northmen to know of your training?" She ignores me and I shrug.

"I just don't want to fight if it's not needed."

"And if it is? If someone's to attack you-"

"I didn't make it this far in life just to have a Saxon whelp end me. If I can survive heathens, Englishmen shouldn't be near as bad."

We see Ivar and when we try to get to him, we're stopped by a group of men that tower over Delilah and I. They hold shields and weapons as if acting as body guards for Ivar.

Ubbe and his brother look confused for a moment.

"Let us through." Ubbe orders them. They don't make a motion to do as they're told. "Do you know who we are?" He asks them.

A tall, grey haired man approaches from the group and looks down at all of us.

"We know who you are. What do you want?" He asks.

"I want to speak to my brother Ivar now get out of my way." Ubbe replies, the tone of impatience rising in his voice.

"I'll ask him to see if it's alright." The man responds and Delilah and I glance at each other.

What the hell was this man's deal?

"No, you won't." Ubbe states. "Because you won't have a tongue to ask him with. And I will nail you to that post just over there." He promises darkly. "Do you understand?"

The man looks at us, then at Ubbe, then at his men, calling them off with a nod of his head. We push past them, Hvitserk shoving at one of them before following his older brother.

"Ubbe, Hvitserk!" Ivar calls out and we look ahead to see Ivar gripping the edges of a table, shirtless, getting a tattoo tapped in to his back.

"I see the appeal now." Delilah whispers to me, not able to stop herself from admiring Ivar's muscles that ripple with each twitch of discomfort he gives as the needle works ink in to his back.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned." I mumble, lustful thoughts seeping in to my mind. He definitely is no longer the boy I once knew.

"Did you take a look around? The work on strengthening our defenses is going well." Ivar says to his brothers.

"Why do you need a personal body guard, Ivar? Hmm?" Ubbe asks, rubbing his face with one hand.

"What?" Ivar asks, looking at his other brother.

"We were just stopped by your bodyguards. Why do you need them?" Ubbe repeats. "Do you need protection against us, against your brothers?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you have them?" Hvitserk asks.

"I am a cripple. I need a bodyguard." Ivar argues as if it's obvious and Delilah lets out a single scoff that catches the three men's attention.

I don't blame her. The idea that Ivar the Boneless would ever need anyone to protect him, was bullshit. Even he knew it.

"It's not just the bodyguard, Ivar." Ubbe states as he steps forward. "The fact is, you never seem to consult us about anything. As if you are now the leader of our great army." Ubbe explains.

Ivar puts a hand up, motioning for the tattoo artist to stop what he's doing. He walks away, and Ivar sits up and brushes his hands together.

"Do you think you are the leader?" Ubbe asks him.

Yes.

"No, I don't. Why would I think such a thing?"

Liar.

"Glad to hear you say that. Because you are not the leader. Us three brothers together, are the leaders." Ubbe makes it clear.

"Hmm." Ivar hums sarcastically.

"As our father would've wished." Ubbe continues.

"We are older than you, Ivar. You can't push us aside. It's unacceptable." Hvitserk adds.

"No, you're right, Hvitserk." Ivar agrees, motioning to his brother. "But you two have to understand it is harder for me to share, and harder for me to stake my claim." His eyes fall on me when he says this, his intent to make me squirm under his heated gaze and I have to dig my nails in to my palms to keep my knees from weakening. He looks to his brothers again and raises his brows. "I truly want to be your equal but in order for me to do so, I have to do better than you." He points to himself. "I have to make you forget, that I am a cripple."

Oh, bullshit.

"Listen, Ivar, we know what you are. And we accept what you are." Ubbe offers gently.

Ivar rolls his eyes and picks up his cup to drink.

"It makes no difference to us, you're just our brother." He continues.

"Don't make us try to feel sorry for you. Because, my brother, we never will." Hvitserk says next.

Ivar just gives him a sly smirk and raises his glass to him slightly.

"There's a large Saxon force on its way here." Ubbe informs Ivar and his baby brother glares up at him from where he's seated with an annoyed look on his face. "But I thought you would already know that." He finishes and he and Hvitserk walk away.

The look on Ivar's face says that he didn't and he takes another swallow of his drink and motions the tattoo artist back to him.

He knew the Saxons would come, he just didn't expect so soon.

Me and Delilah share the same expression at the mention of the Saxons and she takes a ragged breath before going to leave as well. At least we were until Ivar grabs my wrist in a vice grip.

"Tell Freydis needs to be waiting for me in the church for when I am finished here."

"Are you serious?" Delilah speaks before I can and his eyes flicker to her. "There's an army of pissed off soldiers coming with the intent to slaughter us and instead of preparing your own forces and making sure everything is together as it should be, you're going to screw a concubine?"

She basically asks what I am thinking, but I still gently grasp as her wrist to calm her down. I knew she'd toss me the baby in a heartbeat and lunge over the table to claw Ivar's eyes out if she needed to...she'd try at least.

Blue eyes roll off of her and back onto me, not even giving her accusation the time of day.

"Do what I asked you to do. You know I don't like repeating myself." Ivar tells me lowly, not releasing my wrist until I'm sure the dark bruising of his fingers are embedded in to my flesh.

When I'm free, I have to pull Delilah away, feeling her shaking from how angry she is.

"Heathens." She grumbles to me as we search for Freydis. "They're despicable. Who the hell does that? You've just been told a swarm of fighters are coming after you to reclaim their city and what do you do? Have sex with an easy harlot in a church." She rants. "A church, Issy! The house of God! He is doing disgusting things to a disgusting woman in God's house!"

"Delilah," I hold back my smile, raising my brows. "Love and compassion and understanding, remember?" I remind her of her life's mission and she sighs, looking guilty.

"I'm sorry. Lord, forgive me but Iskra that just boils my blood.

"I know, but it is what is. Ubbe and Hvitserk will make sure everything is ready for when they attack. Do not worry."

"I'm not worried, I know where I'm going if I die. I just don't want to face other Christians." She admits and I look at her.

"You don't have to fight if you don't want to, Delilah." I assure her and she shakes her head.

"These people mean a lot to you." She sighs out. "I see the way you look at some of them that you've known your whole life...you grew up around many of them and even though they aren't happy with you right now and you're not happy with them, I know you care about them."

"Delilah, they embody everything you are against." I argue, flattered she would fight for the Northmen, but confused still.

"Yeah, but you don't." She replies with furrowed brows. "I am not fighting for them. I'm fighting for you. The way you would've done for me if you were aware of your people's claim on my homeland."

If I weren't afraid to die, I would've done my best to have defended her people if I were there when they were attacked.

"I also just really need to get all of this pent up anger inside of me out and killing people in the name of self-defense, to avoid guilt, seems like a better option than attempting to kill the evil crippled bastard that plans on destroying everything sacred about that church by committing every sin known to man in it."

"At this point, I would assist you on that attempt." I grin, chuckling a little.

I see Freydis feeding some of the livestock from over Delilah's shoulder and my face falls.

"There's the little enabler." I grumble and Delilah mocks what I said earlier.

"Don't forget, compassion and love and understanding." She teases as we approach the slave.

"Quiet mother Mary, those are your promises, not mine." I reply under my breath and she laughs.

Freydis looks at us when we get to her, an odd look on her face.

"Ivar has requested your presence later on in the church." I tell her and she looks between Delilah and I.

"Of course." She smiles at us innocently and I narrow my eyes at her.

"Don't look so smug." Delilah cuts through her good mood and Freydis drops the act and exhales.

"I am just pleased that between the three of us, Prince Ivar has chosen my company to keep him over either of yours."

"The reason he requests your company over ours is because I am one fast away from being a nun and even touching me would cause him to burst in to flames because he is Satan in spoiled, unstable, brat form and Iskra won't let him have his way with her either and he knows both of these things so he hasn't bothered to ask for our company. But if you want to be proud of being the least moral out of the three of us and happily oblige to being degraded and defiled in a holy place of worship by Satan in spoiled, unstable, brat form then by all means, as you Northerner's say, skol." Delilah gives the blonde an earful and I am at a loss for words.

Ubbe and Hvitserk aren't far from us, seeing the exchange while they're sharpening their weapons under a blacksmith's shed.

Ubbe steps to us, making sure to keep whatever heated discussion we're having under control. He knows we'd be punished if something were to get back to Ivar about this.

Freydis doesn't even flinch, smiling once more as if we just complimented her.

"Skol." She whispers to me, pushing past me harshly with her shoulder hitting mine.

My patience and resolve withers and my I finally do the one thing everyone in Kattegat had been waiting for me to do at least once in my life.

I snatch Ubbe's sharp axe from his hand before he knows what's happening, and I throw it towards my target.