A/N: Vikings Season 4 - with some more GoT-characters appearing...
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Chapter 36 Mercy
The water dripped slowly from the ceiling of the cave. The man standing there screamed in agony as the drops sprinkled on the crown of his skull. Standing involuntarily, to be true. Floki's hands had been tied the ropes holding him upright. Unable to move his head wide enough to get out of the way of the water drops, he had been left here for days.
Kalf was standing outside the great hall of Hedeby, pissing in the dirt, when Erlendur stepped beside him.
"Bjorn Ragnarsson has left Kattegat and is now living alone in a hut in the interior", Erlendur told Kalf, "It is the perfect opportunity to kill him."
Kalf looked confused, his mind wandering back to Lagertha who was waiting for him in bed.
"I thought, we came together to destroy the family of Ragnar Lothbrok", Erlendur insisted, "This was your ambition as it is mine. I will not rest until my father's death is avenged."
"I agree", Kalf said, "It is the perfect opportunity. And I also know the perfect man for the job – a berserker."
Lord Petyr Baelish, littlefinger, as he was called behind his back, was angry with himself. Not that he'd done anything wrong, but he forgot a small but important detail in his plans. With Rollo unable to speak the Frankish language, it was entirely impossible to inquire about tactics and intentions of the northmen.
Near a small creek, Bjorn set up a trap for wild animals. Carefully, he pried the iron spikes open, before setting it on the ground. The chain he tied to a tree standing nearby. Finally, he took a handful of snow and sprinkled it over, concealing the trap.
Helga was holding a wooden bowl over Floki's head, keeping the dripping water away from him, and allowing her husband a moment of sleep. Her arms were aching badly, as she poured the water on the ground, stumbling from exhaustion.
The next drop hit Floki's head again, and he woke up in pain. Letting out a small cry, he closed his eyes, trying fruitlessly to shut the pain out.
"I'm sorry", he mumbled, as Helga quickly stepped back into her position, holding the bowl up again.
Rollo was watching in confusion as the priests carried a wooden statue towards them. They placed in on a stand and the Emperor stepped forward and kissed the statue's feet.
"Today is the feast of St. Eulalia", Charles told them.
At the table, Rollo and Gisela were sitting on either side of Charles, both eating their meals.
"Forgive me, father", Gisela began, "St. Eulalia, why was she sainted?"
"Eulalia was martyred by the pagan roman emperor Maximus", Charles told her, "She refused to renounce her Christian faith, so she was burned at the pyre. But the flames did not touch her."
"What did they do to her?" Gisela asked.
"She was beheaded", Charles declared, "Her naked body was thrown onto the forum, for everyone to see. But god sent a blanket of snow, to protect her modesty."
"My husband is exactly like this pagan emperor", Gisela declared loudly, "He probably wants to burn me alive or cut off my head!"
"Woman,…" Rollo began, but was interrupted by Gisela.
"Don't touch me!" she screamed, "I will never be your woman!"
Gisela grabbed the cup of wine and splashed it into Rollo's face.
"I want a divorce", she told her father, "Arrange it."
The princess turned around and stormed out of the room. Rollo stood there, staring helplessly at her. Slowly he emptied his glass and jumped on the table. Making grimaces at the Franks and screaming like the mad savage they saw in him, he scared them.
Rollo had entered a small room, followed by Count Odo.
"Your Grace", Odo began, then gesturing with his hands, "Paris… You… me… together…"
Rollo looked at him and nodded, then pointed at a book. He opened it and gestured as if he were reading it, then moving his mouth.
"You want to speak our language?" Odo asked, "I will find you a teacher."
Ragnar entered the prison cave, just as Helga was giving Floki a cup of water to drink. Looking at her inquiringly, he asked, "You haven't told him, Helga, have you?"
"No", she whimpered, as Ragnar walked away.
"What is he talking about?" Floki asked, "What did you not tell me?"
"Our daughter", Helga sobbed, "She's dead. She caught a fever, there was nothing I could do…"
Bjorn cried out in frustration as he saw the empty trap. The spikes had been reddened by blood, so obviously, an animal had triggered it, but apparently, it had managed to tear itself free again.
He followed the bloody trail until he found the torn off leg of a caribou at the end. It took him a moment to realize what it meant. A bear or possibly a wolf. Quickly resetting the trap, Bjorn grabbed the led with still a piece of meat on it, before heading back.
Sansa felt her heart tear apart, as she had to listen to her daughter's screams. Gyda had been pushed by Arya and scraped her knee on a sharp rock. Now the girls were sitting in front of their mother, Arya trying to look not guilty and Gyda sobbing. Sansa sighed and put a piece of cloth in a little hot water, before she began to wash the wound.
"Shh. Gyda", she tried to calm her, "It's going to be alright."
Finally, the little girl's wailing stopped and Sansa quickly tied a fresh piece of cloth around the wound as a bandage.
In Wessex, Princess Judith was talking to the monk that Egbert had hired to teach her the art of painting. Although reluctant at first, Father Prudentius had begun to show Judith the secrets of painting.
"Prudentius, you are a Frank", Judith began, "What do you know about the recent attack on Paris by the northmen?"
"Who hasn't heard about it", Prudentius said, "The city is well known all over Europe. I have already heard many details about the attack."
"I heard it was besieged?" Judith hinted.
"Yes, a sail from every quarter. How these poor Christian people must have suffered…" Prudentius told her.
"But they triumphed?" Judith wanted to confirm.
"Of course they triumphed", Prudentius smiled, "God was on their side. Many of the Northmen who entered the cathedral were afterwards struck down by disease."
"Do you know about the identity of the Northmen?" Judith inquired.
"It is said, that they were led by the famous Viking Ragnar Lothbrok, the scourge of God", Prudentius recalled, "He pretended to be dead to enter the cathedral along with his daughter, who let herself be taken as a hostage and opened the gates from inside."
"Is there any mentioning of an English monk?" Judith asked, "He might have been fighting with Ragnar's band?"
"A Christian?" Prudentius wanted to know, "If it is true, he should be caught and crucified."
Later in the evening, Judith was sitting with Egbert, spreading the news.
"Pretending to be dead", Egbert said in awe, "How like our Ragnar! You cannot fault his ingenuity."
"And Sansa let herself be taken prisoner, only to be able to enter the city", Judith added.
"A brave idea", Egbert agreed, "They should have killed her the moment she had entered the city."
"He had no news of Athelstan however", Judith said.
Bjorn was out in the woods, checking his traps, when he heard a roar. Looking up, he saw a gigantic bear stand close by. The bear roared and Bjorn's hand automatically went to his belt where he kept his axe. His fingers found nothing. Looking down, he realized that he must have forgotten the axe in his cabin.
The bear roared once more and Bjorn gulped heavily. Knowing that if he would run, the bear would inevitably chase after him and kill him, Bjorn sat there, afraid to move. To his great relief, the bear turned around and walked away in the snow.
Fleeing from Mercia, Kwentrith was clutching her arms tightly, trying to stay warm in the freezing wind. Her son was at her side and she looked up as Athelwulf walked up to them.
"We have to light a fire", she told him.
"We can't", Athelwulf refused, "We're still in Mercia."
"Look at my child", Kwentrith pleaded, "He is freezing to death."
Athelwulf thought for a moment, then handed her his own cloak, wrapping it tightly around the Mercian prince.
Sansa was smiling down at her girls, lying in their bed, almost asleep.
"Story", Gyda demanded. Sansa smiled at her.
"A story? Of course", she answered, "The God Baldr was Odin's favorite son. And so the other gods agreed there must never be any danger to him. They made everything swear an oath that he would not be harmed. Then they tested the oaths – they threw rocks at him, they tried to cut him with swords, but nothing could harm him. Only the god Loki disagreed, he was determined to find a way to kill Baldr..."
Sansa stopped as she realized that the girls' eyes had already been shut.
Bjorn returned to the cabin, where he found his axe lying on the stack of firewood. Angry at himself for forgetting it, he placed it on his belt.
When he turned around and was about to walk off again, his eyes caught something, hidden behind the firewood. He pulled it out, revealing a small barrel. Curious, he hacked a small hole in the top, releasing a smell of strong alcohol. Hungrily, he drank a few gulps, then let out a loud cry as he felt the warmth pass through him.
He sat next to his fire, outside of the frozen lake. Drinking from the barrel, he stared at the sky where the polar lights gleamed alongside the stars. Howling into the night, he rejoiced when the wolves answered in the save distance. Finally, Bjorn fell asleep in the snow.
Ragnar was cleaning fish with his children, while he was telling a story.
"Thor came to this deep channel", he said, "And on the far bank, he saw a man stand on a flat bottom boat. 'Hey!' yelled Thor, 'Are you the ferryman?' 'If you want to cross, you have to tell me your name!' the ferryman said."
Ubba, Hvitserk and Sigurd completely forgot their fish while they were listening to the story. Aslaug smiled, holding Ivar.
"'I am the son of Odin, the strongest God of all! So, ferryman, you are talking to Thor!' The god's words made waves across the water and they broke at the ferryman's feet", Ragnar told them, "'Now tell me your name!' Thor yelled. The ferryman stood up and yelled, 'My name is Harbard!"
Sansa watched as her adopted siblings were following every word of their father.
"Have you ever met Harbard?" Hvitserk wanted to know.
"No, not I", Ragnar shot Aslaug an angry glance, "Perhaps your mother has?"
"We must eat now", Aslaug said, gathering the boys, while Ragnar stayed behind, cleaning the fish.
Sansa took her knife in her hand and began to clean another fish.
"Don't you think, you should let it go?" she asked as the others had disappeared inside.
"No", Ragnar said, "Why should I let it go?"
"New try, would you please let it go?" Sansa insisted.
"Why should I?" Ragnar asked, "She was unfaithful."
"As were you", Sansa reminded him, "Repeatedly. Either you let it go, or I will suddenly remember what I have seen in England…"
"Very well, Sansa", Ragnar finally gave in, "I promise, I'll try."
"Thank you, father", Sansa smiled broadly.
When Bjorn awoke in the morning, his beard and hair was frozen. Still on a high from the wine, he felt invincible. Deciding to kill the bear that was in the area, he carefully readied his dagger and axe.
Hidden in the woods, he sat there, waiting for the bear. He looked up, when he heard a roar, not far from him. Gripping his weapons tightly, Bjorn ran towards the bear, screaming loudly.
When Bjorn came close to the bear, it roared loudly and went on his back paws. Towering high above Bjorn, the bear let his claw come down on the young man, sweeping him off his feet. The bear opened his jaws and came down crashing on Bjorn.
Bjorn frantically stabbed him in the side of his neck and the bear let himself distract enough to allow Bjorn to crawl away. Once he had gotten away, Bjorn staggered to his feet and turned around, just in time to see the bear running towards him. Bjorn picked up his axe and with his last effort buried it in the bear's skull. The animal's blood spurted high and reddened Bjorn's face, as the bear collapsed, while Bjorn tried to catch his breath.
Later in the evening, Bjorn was sitting in front of his cabin, looking down on his chest. The bear had left a wound, where his claws had struck Bjorn's chest. By now, Bjorn had taken apart the bear, the pelt hanging from a wooden frame, the meat ready to be eaten.
Bjorn took his dagger from the fire, where he had been heating it. The metal was glowing red and without hesitation, Bjorn pressed it onto his bleeding flesh. A grunt escaped his lips as the smell of burnt flesh waved through the air.
Ragnar was sitting in the great hall at night, on his chair. A monk entered and placed a bowl of water in front of him, before he began to wash the Viking's feet.
As the man pulled down his hood, he revealed himself as Athelstan. Looking deep in Ragnar's eyes, he continued to wash his feet.
"Mercy", Athelstan said, "Mercy."
Ragnar leaned forward, his hand raised, trying to touch the English monk, but his fingers only felt the cold air. Athelstan was gone.
Sweat running from his brow, Ragnar awoke in his bed.
Littlefinger was standing at the window in the palace, overlooking the city of Paris, when someone stepped behind him.
"You wanted to see the preparations for the defense of Paris?" Roland asked, "Count Odo has asked me to show you."
"Very well", Petyr agreed before following Roland to one of the chambers in the castle.
"Tell me, Roland, What do you think of Count Odo?" Petyr wanted to know.
"Forgive me, Lord Baelish", Roland said, "But I don't think, it is my place to talk about my direct superior. Here the walls have ears."
"But if I insisted?" Petyr smiled.
"Then I would say, he's an excellent commander", Roland replied.
"What if I told you that he has the ambition to become Emperor?" Littlefinger hinted, "He might not be such a great commander then…"
"If that's true, it's high treason", Rolland agreed, "I would have to report that to the Emperor."
Egbert and Judith rushed outside to greet the returning Athelwulf and their guests, the Queen and the prince of Mercia.
"Thank god, you are save", Egbert declared loudly, facing Kwentrith.
"I do thank god a lot", Kwentrith replied, "But also your son, Athelwulf. He saved me and my son from certain death."
Egbert bowed down to the little boy.
"So this is Magnus", he said, "The son of Ragnar Lothbrok."
"And heir to the throne of Mercia", Kwentrith reminded him.
In the free city of Bravos, an old woman was sitting next to another woman, considerably younger.
"So you want to promise a name to the many-faced god?" the young woman asked.
"I do", Cersei Lannister replied.
"The service of the faceless men has its price", the young woman told her.
"I can pay the price", Cersei stated firmly, "I am willing to pay any price for the death of this bitch."
"Then, all I need is a name", the young woman smiled.
Bjorn walked out to his fishing hole in the ice, only wrapped in his bear pelt. He shivered when he dropped it on the ground. Hesitating for a moment, Bjorn gathered his courage, before diving headfirst into the icy water.
After a while, Bjorn came up again, screaming loudly. His hands gripped the sharp edges of the ice, and he pushed himself out of the water.
Ragnar was walking out of his bedroom, passing Aslaug, Sansa and several servants in the main room of the great hall. He took a big axe from one of the guards and walked off.
Helga looked up, when Ragnar entered the prison cave, holding the axe in his hand. Despite her exhaustion, she was still holding the bowl over Floki's head, trying to give him as much comfort as she possibly could.
"What are you going to do?" she asked, her voice weak.
"You have suffered enough, Helga", Ragnar said, before he cut through the ropes that tied Floki upright.
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A/N: Littlefinger is initiating the mistrust between the Frankish leaders, while Cersei plans for an assasination. Let's hope it will all turn out well!
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