Chapter 33

CW: there are allusions to rape toward the end of this chapter. I know there have been vague references all the way through the story, but it's slightly more specific here. If that's something you're not comfortable about, be aware. Reach out if you need to.


'I think it's time you told us the truth about what you've done,' Bard snarled, his hand hovering by the hilt of his dagger.

Jurgen's jaw clenched and unclenched in the silence that followed Bard's barely veiled demand. The flickering torchlight made his eyes glint sharply, and despite the snowfall that was steadily growing heavier, Bard felt a hot fury pool in his belly.

'I hate to disappoint you all,' Jurgen said, his eyes fixed on the dagger at Bard's hip. 'But there is nothing to tell.'

'Time's up for pretending,' Stefan said grimly, and Kristoff gave Jurgen a little shove from behind that sent the man stumbling forward.

'Speak,' Bard growled. His patience, already paper thin, was almost gone, and his hand drifted closer and closer to the hilt of the knife, his fingertips brushing it.

'There's nothing to –'

'We know, Jurgen!' Hans snapped. 'There's no point in this fucking farce anymore! We know you're guilty! We know it, you know it, and nobody's going home tonight until you fucking confess!'

Something seemed to change in Jurgen's eyes. The confused, innocent look melted away, and all that was left was a hard, cruel glint. The corner of his lip twitched upwards, and he turned back to face Bard.

'How very clever of you,' he sneered. 'You've outdone yourself. And it only took all winter.'

Bard exhaled through his nose, feeling every muscle in his body tense with the effort of holding back. He needed to hear it before he acted, he told himself. He needed to talk before he acted. He needed to hear it...

'You told me that Freja's father killed Karinne,' Bard hissed, his patience hanging by a thread. 'You lied, knowing that I would lash out. And how convenient for you, to have your debts paid off, and your competition compromised.'

Jurgen smirked. 'And all I had to do was kill one stupid woman,' he said. 'You know how easy she was to lure out into the night, Bard? It was easier than fooling a child.'

Bard lunged forward, but he was stopped before he'd gone anywhere. Hans seized the back of Bard's coat and held him back. He too was shaking with rage.

'You fucking bastard,' Bard spat. 'She was an innocent woman with a toddler and a baby! A fucking baby! You'll rot in the cells for this!'

Jurgen snorted. 'Unlikely. Alfred controls the Laketown Guard, and money controls Alfred. Luckily for me, I have plenty of silvers to spare.'

Bard felt hot and cold all over. Karinne had been murdered by the man standing before him. Karinne had been strangled to death by those very hands. His breath quickened, and he was suddenly grateful for Hans holding him back.

'Why?' Stefan asked hollowly, shaking his head in disbelieving horror. 'Why would you do such a thing, Jurgen? To your own friend?'

'Because Bard caught more than the rest of us combined every day,' Jurgen hissed, spinning to face the other man. 'He'd had his turn. With his woman gone, he had no more time for fishing. He was useless, and I was richer.'

'And then he pinned it on a man he owed nine hundred silvers to, and used Bard to get rid of his debt,' Hans added bitterly.

'Just like you tried to use me to kill Hans when his catches were good,' Bard said, the rage adding a tremor to his voice. 'The only reason you accused him of hurting Freja was so that I would get rid of him for you!'

'But you suddenly grew a conscience that time, didn't you?' Jurgen sneered. 'Good for you, little Bard. We wouldn't want you to get angry –'

Almost blind with fury, Bard launched himself at Jurgen with a roar, ripping himself free from Hans. He collided with the man and they both fell on the wooden planks of the gangway, Bard on top. There was a brief struggle, but Bard soon freed his arms, and promptly landed a heavy punch across Jurgen's face. Through the haze, he felt something crunch under his fist. It felt good.

'Stop!' Stefan shouted, but Bard couldn't. His chest was heaving, and his vision was washed with red.

'You murdered her,' he rasped, spittle flying. 'You stole a mother from my children.' He landed another punch, snapping Jurgen's head the other way, but the man only laughed, spitting a little blood.

'You know what she told me, right before choked the breath from her?' he said. 'She told me that she didn't even like you.'

Bard hit him twice more, but Jurgen just laughed harder and bloodier every time, goading him on. Bard felt Hans' hands on him, but he shook them off and drew his dagger, his eyes wild. Jurgen's laughter suddenly died.

'At least I'll get the right man this time,' he snarled.

'No,' Jurgen said, his voice panicked and repentant. 'No, no, please, I'll hand myself in, I'll go to the cells, I won't pay Alfred off, I swear –'

'Karinne didn't get justice,' Bard spat, raising the dagger. 'Neither will you.'

'Bard, no!' Hans shouted.

'Stop!' Stefan bellowed at the same time. But Bard barely heard them. Here was justice. Here was death, finally coming where it was deserved. This was going to fix everything, make everything right again... He took a deep breath, and the dagger began to plummet downwards –

'Bard!' came a cry from a voice that cut through the haze of rage like a knife. The dagger stopped an inch from Jurgen's chest, glinting dangerously in the red light of the torch. Bard heard rapid footsteps on the gangway, and Freja spoke again.

'Don't do this,' she said quietly, beseechingly. The dagger still hovered over Jurgen's heart, and Bard shook his head. Her voice had unlocked the reasonable self that had been hidden away, and it confused him. He'd been so sure, just a second ago, when the clarity of fury had settled on his brain. What was happening?

'You kill that man, and the Master will have your head,' she went on calmly, not raising her voice. 'You kill that man, and Bain and Sigrid grow up without a father. You kill that man, and... and I'll be left alone, again.'

His hand trembled, and his hold on the dagger loosened slightly.

'You are not a killer, Bard Girionsson,' she said pleadingly. For the first time, her voice broke. 'Let him go. Come to me.'

He looked up at her, the red haze receding. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she carefully took one step towards him, then another. Hans, Stefan and Kristoff all stood behind her, their expressions ranging from alarmed to hopeful.

'Let him be,' she whispered again, and the dagger fell from his shaking hand and clattered to the ground beside Jurgen. Bard fell back with a groan. She had done it. His anger was gone, he was thinking straight… he wasn't a killer. His hands were shaking, adrenaline coursing sickeningly through his body. She had saved him yet again, just like she'd always done –

'Hello there, sweetness. Fancy seeing you again,' Jurgen drawled, and for the first time, Freja looked down at his face. The expression of relief she'd been wearing faded, and her eyes slowly widened. Her hands clenched suddenly into fists, and the blood drained from her face.

'Bard,' she breathed. 'Bard…'

Still reeling from the sharp awakening from fury, Bard blinked up at her. 'Freja?'

'I told you I would recognise him if I ever saw him,' she said.

'Recognise who?' he said, his eyes flicking between her and Jurgen, but she shook her head.

Her voice grew smaller and weaker as her breathing grew faster. 'This man… this man…'

'Freja, breathe,' he said, his brain still foggy and slow. 'Tell me.' He regretted making her answer as soon as the words came out of her mouth.

'This man is – he's the one who – who attacked me...'

But before Bard could move, Jurgen had leapt to his feet with lightening quickness. The dagger that Bard had dropped was in his hand, and before any of them could react, he had seized Freja and dragged her backwards by the hair. Then he held her close, the dagger's point pressing into her pale throat.

He turned his face and pressed it into her neck, inhaling deeply.

'Ah… you smell as delicious as you did last time,' he said into her ear, loud enough for the men to hear.

'Jurgen…' Hans said, stepping forward with his hand held out placatingly. But Jurgen only pressed the knife harder into her throat, and she whimpered as it broke her skin. A drop of hot blood trickled down her neck just as two tears spilled from her eyes.

'One more step,' Jurgen said, grinning, 'and Bard's little whore dies.'


I'm back, with another terrible cliffhanger! I came to a startling realisation while editing this chapter today: the first draft of this story was written up before Karens became a meme. Would I have changed Karinne's name, had I known the future? I guess we will never know. It was a crazy year, wasn't it?

Anyway, I've stayed up late after driving ridiculous distances to post this for you lot, so send me your love. I'll see you as soon as I'm organised again! Lots of love.

S