Several risings had passed since Bonnie returned to Kattegat. She'd hidden in the Mikaelson fortress for long enough. The time had arrived for her to confront the smoke. So she braced herself to brave the flames. To face those she'd left behind without an over the shoulder glance. Reopening her table in the market place, seemed the least nerve-decimating way to do so. Through embracing the familiar, perhaps she'd recapture a semblance of normal. Or that's what she believed when she first set about her task in the kitchen. Now the underused place appeared anything but normal. Truth be sold, the room looked mushroom head infested.
Bonnie stood ground zero of a—what the hell were you smoking when you were thinking—decision. Instead of using the sense, and the mystical energy the Goddess gave her, she wanted to remind herself why becoming the next Iron Chef was never an option for her. So she attempted to do everything from scratch. Grams always believed the prepping and formulating of poultices to be cathartic. Wrong fucking answer! B. Smith and Sunny Anderson she was not! Hence the cat five storm which blew through and ripped her working space a better one.
Disbelief stretched her eyes wide as they darted over the sticky covered granite countertops, the debris strewn floors, and the scorched marks on the smooth stove top. Despite the shit ton of failure parlaying across her field of vision, she cracked a smile. The last time she'd went nuclear on a kitchen a certain hybrid flipped the world on her…
Bonnie ran her finger under each word of the instruction in the recipe. She'd committed herself to recreating every dish she and Klaus ate on their first date. The night they'd become reluctant friends they'd savored everything that crossed their table. Especially, the French cuisine. She wanted to give him that night once more, but this time with a…happier ending.
After checking the line twice, Bonnie added two eggs, then a pinch of parsley to the mixing bowl. Okay, so far so damn good, good! She managed to crack the eggshells without adding them to the roux as well. Just as she felt she had the rest of the meal all in hand the pot on the stove burst into flames, and the oven began smoking. A screeching in the distance heralded the signaling of the fire alarm.
"You've got to be shitting me!" she growled as she snatched a dishrag off the counter and started swatting at the flames on the stove. Yet, since grease fire trumped cotton, her bit of terry cloth lost the battle. Soon she ran around the spacious kitchen waving about a burning towel. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!"
In all the fuckery a flash of white whipped by her. The blur relieved her of the flaming rag, extinguished the fiery pot, and then snatched the charbroiled Duck Confit from the oven. Once the whipping movements bled to a halt, she stood face to chest with a pissed off hybrid. As his face melted back into his human façade confusion ate away the tension of annoyance.
"Love, where the bloody hell is Toliver?" His head snatched about to catch sight of the personal chef he'd hired for her. "He should be conducting whatever this is. These are his duties after all, are they not."
Bonnie's shoulders slumped under the weight of her failure. "I gave him the night off," she uttered, before dissolving into tears.
"Why?" He demanded as he retrained his concerned stare back on her.
Bonnie wiped at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. "I wanted to surprise you for your b-birthday." She waved a hand at their trashed to hell surroundings. "But all I've managed to d-do is almost burn down your kitchen and wreck our evening."
"Why even trouble yourself with this, little witch?" Bewilderment cut across his face as he pulled her into his arms. "I haven't celebrated my birthday in over five hundred years."
Her stare bulged at his out of order question? Did he really need to ask? She was fucking deranged for him! How could he not know that by now? "Why wouldn't I want to hail the day the Goddess of All gave you to the world?" she sniffled, snatching out of his embrace. "The moment she did, my predestined tragic ending gained a compelling epilogue." Her gaze crept over his face. Warmth blossomed in her belly and radiated to her chest. He'd become her motivation when she'd grown content to standstill. "I love you, Hybrid, and this," she once again waved her hand about, "was just me trying to show you by giving you something you didn't already have."
A frown crumpled his brows as if the thought of him not having all of his desires laid at his feet offended him. "And what's that, Love?"
"What? Are you blind?" Bonnie raised her flour caked appendages in front of his face. "A meal made with my own hands." She turned away to hide the fresh tears welling in her eyes. His laughter mocked the hell out of her auditory senses. "Shut it, Klaus! It's not funny. Don't forget Toliver has the night off. We're gonna starve you know."
"To bleeding hell with Toliver! There's nothing more I want than you, Little Witch," he said to her back. "It matters not if it's for the duration of your lifetime or my eternity. As long as each one of those moments shared are moments I can claim as my own…as long as I can claim you as my own."
His words moved her so, she whirled around to put her eyes on him only to find him no longer standing in front of her. Barely breathing, she lowered her gaze to discover him on both knees holding an engagement ring she could probably see from the damn moon. Surprise and a little bit of fear forced a scream from the back of her throat. She slapped her palm over her mouth to smother any verbal surprises thinking to come two stepping across her lips. Verbal surprises which included but wasn't limited to: hell yeah…now let's go forth and have an army of Bennett-Mikaelsons Tribids. That would be crazy! Wouldn't that be crazy? Yes it would! No there's no way she could marry him! No way!
His crystal blue stare searched her face for several moments. Then he spoke and flipped her world. "Marry me, Love."
Just like that her resolve from moments ago chucked deuces. "What?" Bonnie sunk to her knees in front of him, joining him on the kitchen floor. She needed for Klaus to ask her one more time to make it all real for her. Cradling his face in her hands, she stared at his lips. "Bae, what did you say?"
"Marry me, Little-,"
"Yes," she blurted, before damn near suffocating him with kisses.
Klaus laughed as he slipped the ring on her finger. And for the next fifty-eleven hours she gave his wolf a reason to howl, but she'd be lying if she said there wasn't a moon involved. They didn't find their way free of the kitchen until Toliver stumbled upon them the next morning.
XXXX
The pot boiling over on the stove pulled Bonnie from her thoughts. Damn! Not her poultice!
Guthrum kneeled next to Ayanna in her garden. He'd spent the morn helping her to pull weeds and plant seeds within the soil. Though he labored with meticulous purpose, his mind didn't dwell with the task at hand. No, his thoughts lingered with the woman who bound him in knots without the benefit of ropes. She'd been back in Kattegat for nigh a fortnight now, but he'd avoided seeing her. How could he after he'd regurgitated his emotions before her in such a way? What must she ponder of him? That he was weak…that he wasn't a man. She wouldn't be wrong in her assumptions. He'd behaved as a temperamental babe. Next to Bjorn he must've appeared infantile.
"Although silent, your brooding is distracting and hindering for the herbs growth," Ayanna said as she pushed rich earth over a sprinkling of seeds.
He yanked another weed from a patch of herbs. "Many apologies, Ayanna."
"Your remorse is of no use to me, Guthrum," she said, moving to withdraw more seeds from her basket. "Asides, your apologies would be better suited for your Supreme."
Once more his emotions and tongue escaped his hold. "Why should I have contrition in regards to her? She forsook her people!" He ripped another weed from the ground with more force than necessary. "She's the mother of all super nature and she abandoned us!"
"Perhaps you misspoke, young Guthrum," Ayanna said in that calm never unsettled tone of hers, "Perhaps what you meant to say is she abandoned you." That's exactly what she did! Yet he held his tongue, no longer trusting himself to speak. So she continued. "You have the right of it. My descended daughter is mother of supernature. Her obligations to her children are not reserved for the few who reside in a land many in time shall come to believe as mythical." She withdrew her hands from the soil and slapped them together to dust them clean. "Yet even above all her obligations, her most dire task of all is to learn how to endure in the pieces in which she now exists. The stillbirth of her daughter broke her in a way which shall alter her for lifetimes to come."
The allusion to Bonnie's babe submerged him in shame. For he felt her pain the moment she realized her daughter's stillness. The agony of such a loss pilfered the breath from his body. Just when he believed he'd greet his end the pain halted. She'd raised a mental block between them to prevent his suffering. Instead of her lessening her burden by allowing him to share the brunt, she'd done what she'd always done. She'd placed another before herself. So why did he now condemned her for finally placing herself first? In this he was no better than the Lothbroks and others who'd claimed to have loved her before him. This would not be his way concerning his favored girl. Bonnie deserved much more. She deserved love without conditions.
As Bonnie placed wares on the store table her mind drifted…
"Because of you Bjarke overcame the loss of his man stand and now I'm carrying." The woman glowed with pleasure.
Blida's complexion developed a greenish hue as mild disgust twisted her pretty features. "Did you really put it in your mouth as she advised?"
Fucking incorrigible! Bonnie's gaze blurred even as laughter burst from her lips. Being back at her old market table conjured so many memories…so many ghosts…
Hilda sidled up next to her. "Who would've known old Bjarke could still get a woman with child? You truly have shown your favor, Goddess."
"No, the little blue pellets I gave her is what made his manhood more receptive to her oral ministrations," Bonnie whispered to herself. "And what'd you mean old Bjarke? He's only forty-five."
"Which is practically enough summers to rival the Seer's," Hilda said.
More tears gushed from her eyes as she withdrew a pot of honey from the box. Wilbur's sweet face filtered through her mind as she ran her fingers over the smooth stone of the jar.
"Bonsie, Wilbur spilt the other jar of honey," Guthrum said, pointing his finger at the piglet who was scarfing down as much honey as he could before someone ruined his fun by cleaning up the mess.
Bonnie stomped over to Wilbur who didn't appear the least bit intimidated. Reaching down she attempted to snatch the ladle from his mouth. "Give me that honey stick you little son of a-,"
In a sharp turn the piglet managed to yank the ladle out of her grasp and leave her grasping and begging thin air for a save. Which by the way never came. She fell smack on her ass in a puddle of honey, while Wilbur trotted away. Yes trotted, not ran, trotted away with the honey ladle sticking out of his mouth like a damn Cuban cigar. Hali, Blida, and Hilda nearly burst a spleen laughing at her.
Guthrum, ever her hero, threw his arms around her neck. "Worry not, Bonsie. I'll teach Wilbur how to behave towards my favored girl."
She placed the honey on the table. Her gaze drifted to the corner Guthrum and Hali played in on a blanket. The sharp stabbing at the cradle of her breasts intensified. Goddess those times felt like a million years ago. More than half of those who lingered in her memories were now ghosts, while the others no longer wanted anything to do with her. How did these set of circumstances continue being the formula of her life? No matter the people, place, or time period? Goddess, was she cursed?
Bonnie turned around to grab the other box and swallowed a shit ton of air. She whipped back around. Quickly, she blotted her cheeks dry with the backs of her hands. What the fucks were they doing there? She inhaled, and then attempted to get her mental issues together. After collecting herself to the best of her ability, she turned once more to face her guests. Guthrum and Hali both stared at her with indifferent expressions, while Asa tugged and twisted against her eldest brother's hold for her freedom. Happy and sad to see them all, she closed the distance between them. While plucking Asa from Guthrum's arms she cocked a questioning brow at him.
"There's been talk about the long house of you reopening your table," Guthrum said in an emotionless tone, "we've come to aid you."
Oh no! Oh no, no, no! Bonnie almost dropped Asa upon hearing Guthrum's intentions. She refused to be trapped all rising with him in such close quarters. His scent alone would turn her rabid! She shook her head. Besides, she controlled her twelve steps of redemption! Not the ones who thought to accuse. Anything less and back to her keep she'd go.
"Guthrum, though sweet, your offer is unnecessary. I doubt there'd be much to do here. I'm just getting started. It'll take time for me to draw enough traffic to require help."
"There, she doesn't require our aid. Now may I return to the training fields?" Hali spat, ready to make an about face.
Paying no mind to his younger brother, Guthrum waved a hand to a corner in the covering. "Prepare a place for Asa there. The way Blida and Hilda once did for us."
Hali uttered something under his breath but did his brother's bidding. Thoroughly continuing to fuck over her low pressure return to society, Guthrum charged head first into her life. Without a word he and Hali finished unpacking the boxes while she placed a blanket, picture books, and toys in the corner for Asa. She then busied herself with arranging things around the tables and covering.
Soon citizens flooded the covering bearing offerings, while in turn pleading for assistance. From curing manstand sores to treating alopecia due to lye bleaching, she dealt with a variety of issues among the city's people. By the time the rising thought to relinquish Midgard to the eve, Bonnie had distributed every poultice, potion, remedy, and concoction she'd brought. In exchange fruits, cloths, and tankards of mead now overran the tables. As chickens clucked in a pin in the far corner, she pressed her index fingers to her temples. She'd forgotten about this part.
"I'll aid you in returning this all to your keep," Guthrum said, moving about to organize the offerings.
She stopped glaring at the chickens for a moment to decline his offer. "Oh, Guthrum, no. I can displace this all-,"
Actively ignoring her, he went about readying multiple offerings for travel. His earnest determination to do so forced her to stand down. To for once rest without lifting one mystical finger. When they arrived back at her keep together they stored each of the offerings in temporary places. After they'd completed the task Asa ran in and grabbed hold of a leg.
"Bonsie, will you tell me a saga?" The question took her back to when Guthrum was only a few summers older than she demanding the same thing of her. The thought alone made her feel even worse for the emotions she now wrestled with in regards to him. "Um…some other time, Princess. It's late and I'm sure your mother's waiting for you."
"Mother said she could remain for the eve if this were favorable to you," Guthrum said, setting flames to her exit strategy.
Bonnie felt like a damn lifer denied the possibility of parole. "Oh," she stretched her eyes wide as she bobbed her head in a slow dipping motion. "Well then, let's get the baths out of the way. Then I'll tell you all about a fierce girl who rescues a demigod in order to save her people."
"Hel take a washing!" Hali exploded, reminding her of his father. "I'm not minded to hear any such foolish saga. I wish to return to the long house with my father and stepmother."
Bonnie blinked. If she didn't know any better she'd think she stared at twelve year old Bjorn from season one. Where had the time gone, Goddess? Not long ago Hali barely grazed her waist now he'd nearly surpassed her in height. Yet all things to the curb. It was the disrespect for her. His mouth had grown flier than Hvits on one of his psychedelic flights. To keep the relationship from further deteriorating between them, she agreed with him. He one hundred percent needed to discover a direction which led him far from her.
"Hali it's fine," she began, her tone packed tight with slipping patience and withering restraint. "you don't-,"
Without pomp, Guthrum leaned down and whispered something in his ear. The boy's cheeks burned crimson as his gaze met the floor. After a moment of being snatched together, Hali muttered, "I've changed my mind…I do want to stay and hear the saga."
Guthrum's gaze rose to meet hers. "Where would you like for us all to go to wash?"
"U-upstairs, to the bedrooms," she said, shifting her stare from Guthrum to Hali. "Follow me and I'll take you."
Bonnie showed Guthrum and Hali where to go for their baths and how to use the faucets. Then she took Asa to her bedroom and gave her a bath. After bathing her, she braided Asa's hair in two French braids. Once done, they rejoined Guthrum and Hali in the family room. There she placed furs and pillows on the floor in front of the fireplace. Asa climbed in her lap, cuddling close, while Guthrum and Hali lounged on the sofa nearby. There she began to spin the tale of Moana. Both brothers pretended not to listen. Yet by the end of the story Hali slept at the edge of the furs. Asa lay stretched out across her lap emitting soft snores every so often, while Guthrum watched her from his place on the sofa. His eyes stretched wide. One of his tales he enjoyed the story.
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she tilted her head in Hali's direction. "Take Hali up and I'll see to Princess Leia."
As Bonnie adjusted herself to gather the sleeping princess she noticed Guthrum hadn't moved. She returned her stare to his and arched a brow.
"Did I do something…did I wrong you in some way?" He questioned in a voice as indifferent as his expression.
She paused in her gathering of Asa. "What do you mean?"
"You turned away from me," he uttered and for the first time she saw pain present in his sapphire stare. "You sought your leave of Kattegat, and then closed yourself off to me and me alone. Yet you remained open to not only Sigurd, but Ubbe as well."
"You did nothing wrong, Guthrum." She cuddled a sleeping Asa closer to her chest, while attempting to order her thoughts and words. "But Fate's altering of our relationship hurt me." She shifted her gaze from his to the sleeping Hali lying at the edge of the blanket. "Hurt me more than you'll ever understand. Yet no matter how we move on from who we used to be, you'll always take priority in my affections."
"Then why?" His question crested just above a whisper. "Why turn away from me? When you know…"
"Because I was broken, Guthrum. Part of me still is," she admitted. "And I refused to allow my jagged edges to leave you bloody. I love you too much to permit my brokenness to alter someone as perfect as you."
His eyes bulged at the sight of her foot traveling south down her throat. Nothing was the same with them. Her I love you's held more depth than they ever had before. The words no longer felt the same in her mouth, and they bore a different kind of weight upon her heart. Embarrassed, she rose with Asa in her arms and hurried from the room.
The next morning Bonnie and Guthrum didn't speak on their conversation from the night before. In fact, they avoided even talking at all. Instead, they worked in silence to gather offerings from the day before. Taking care to not bump, touch, or graze the other while loading a flatbed cart for delivery. This relieved Bonnie to the utmost. For she didn't know what to say or even how to feel around Guthrum anymore. Every question lingering upon her tongue seemed wrong, while every hint of attraction for him brimmed her to the rim with guilt. She couldn't lose discreetly for failing spectacularly.
Once the cart was loaded, Guthrum pulled the small wagon to harbor, while she, Asa, and Hali followed. There she passed out supplies to women and widows who dwelled down by the docks. After making sure all of the ladies had enough to see them through to the new moon, they moved on to where the addled soldiers gathered.
Each of the down trodden warriors greeted Bonnie with warriors bows, and those she knew personally went as far as to offer her hugs. She felt a kinship to the soldiers, and her connection to them was born of something other than any war they'd fought in together. No she recognized the wild emptiness kindling in their eyes. It was the same powder keg of nothingness she saw whenever she ventured too close to a mirror.
For the next several hours she reminisced with the fallen yet still surviving warriors over battles they'd waged in England. They spoke of the many wonders they'd come to know in that land. At one point she thought she caught sight of Hvitserk from the cut of her eye, but when she angled her neck to have a better look no one was there. All things sane in her brain told her the conversation had her seeing ghosts where only memories lingered. Yet her sorcery whispered something different.
Bjorn sat on his throne next to his wife watching the many revelers who filled the hall. His chest still bore the burn from his last confrontation with Bonnie. His conclusion of them would serve all involved well. He'd become to seasoned a warrior to continue pursuing her all about Kattegat. Though she may not had aged a rising since he'd discovered her upon his boat, he however felt every one of his four and three summers.
Bjorn no longer had the energy for their frolics and turn of phrases. He now only wanted to love her and to be loved by her in return. His gaze cut to Gunnhild. Perhaps in the same way someone other than him cared for his wife. The glow upon her skin served as an attestation to her satisfaction with her lover's affections. Though her ways of cuckholding him spoke much of her boldness, he lacked the effort to lend a care. Yet his need to have a companion in his misery remained ever present.
"Will you be stealing away from our bed again this eve when you believe me lost to slumber?" He questioned, while slouching deeper into his throne.
"That depends on whether you come to our bed once more smelling of Amma, or," she swished her mead around in her chalice, "if your cries from the throes of your slumbers for your Mystical One becomes too deafening to bear."
"Ack!" As he scoffed at his wife's nonsense Bonnie, Guthrum, and his children entered the hall.
Though he'd seen such a sight many times afore, the spectacle they presented that rising somehow appeared changed. Almost as if they resided together in matrimony with babes to praise their union. The thought alone threatened to force second meal back up his gullet.
"It would seem our Supreme has gone and besotted another of Kattegat's great warriors," his wife uttered next to him.
During the course of the eve, Bjorn continued to watch them from the cut of his eye. He observed the boys attentiveness to Bonnie. How he anticipated her needs. He also witnessed how she stole long lingering glances at Guthrum when she believed no one watched. The entire matter sickened him. Was she not like a second mother to him? When had their affections altered for the other?
"More ale, Ubbe," Torvi asked, while placing the tankard over his chalice.
Without sparing her a glance he placed a hand over the rim of his chalice as he continued conversing with the foreigner to the left of him. "Lush land that glistens as bright as brushed gold under the morn sun you say?"
Torvi's eyes rolled. She replaced the tankard on the table, and then settled back in her seat. Since Bonnie's return dealings between Ubbe and she had strained. He treated her in a cold manner. Disregarded her and at times altogether ignored her. The state of her marriage distressed her without end. To the point she'd kept her distance from Bonnie. Her bosom friend and Supreme. Yet what could be done? Any reminder of Bonnie agitated Ubbe to the end of unguarded hostility. Such callous treatment from him made Torvi reconsider her decision to turn away from Bonnie.
The opening of the long house's doors tore Torvi from her thoughts. Instead of being content with stumbling around in her mind, the object of her musings leapt from her head to cavort within her sights. Bonnie and Guthrum entered with Hali and Asa. The affection between the two was beautiful to behold. In that moment she knew turning away from Bonnie had been the just thing to do. Guthrum appeared happier than she'd ever sighted him.
"It would seem your designs for Bonnie and Guthrum are coming to past just as you plotted. I'm certain this gladdens you, wife," Ubbe hissed next to her ear before tearing himself from the table and storming from the hall.
Torvi allowed him to seek out his leave without her harrying his retreating steps. He'd have to resolve his loss by his own means. The same as she. Exhaling, she rose to greet them. Relief filled her when Bonnie received her with a tight embrace. For the rest of the eve they rekindled their friendship.
Bonnie's gaze strayed to the thrones for the fourth time that eve. Bjorn and Gunnhild sat next to each other stiffer than the rotting dead. Few words barely passed between the two. If she'd not known them to be married she would've thought them strangers…or enemies. There appeared to be an underlining animosity from one to the other. The vibe radiating off the sovereigns was a drastic shift from the love she'd sensed from them from before. She, however, didn't need more than one guess as to what proverbial bump knocked them off course.
From the cut of her eye, Bonnie watched Ingrid eye stalk the hell out of the good king. Her priestess didn't even try to hide the dry mouth yearning in her stare. She made a mental note to speak with the girl about her actions as of late. Not to mention her lack of discretion. Anybody with eyes could see a thirst trap caution sign branded all over her.
Guthrum placed a sliver of roasted meat to her lips. Her stunned stare flicked to him, and the undetermined protein dangling from his fingers. "It's roasted pheasant smoked in chestnuts…your favored meal."
"Guthrum," she opened her mouth to correct him on his forwardness and he used the opportunity to his advantage and slid the meat in her mouth.
The salted nutty flavor exploded on her tongue as juice dribbled from the corner of her mouth. A moan vibrated from the base of her throat. Goddess who the hell did Bjorn have out back roasting those damn birds? Her stare locked with Guthrum's. Pleasure flickered in his glittering sapphires as they crept over her face. He wiped the excess juice that dribbled unto her chin away with his thumb.
"Would you favor another?" He asked in his quiet tone that now tip-toed on the side of strained.
Too overwhelmed to mumble a word, she dipped her head for just a little more. Pleased with her answer, he slipped another piece in her mouth. This time in her eagerness to savor the flavor of the meat she inadvertently sucked the juice from his finger as he withdrew the digit from her mouth. A groan oozed through the slits of his clenched teeth as he covertly readjusted himself in his seat.
Oh Hell! Did she just deep throat his finger? Embarrassment flamed her ass. "Oh Goddess, Guthrum…I'm sorry!"
"No," he insisted even as red stained his cheeks. "I'm…it's…what I…that is…"
"My Gods, Guthrum!" Ingrid barked through chortles. "You're behaving as the chaste and untouched."
"Ingrid!" Torvi scolded, her lips twitching and eyes sparkling.
Chaste and untouched? Was he a…from somewhere to her right a burning near singed the skin from the side of her face. Her sorcery rocketed through her vessels. The mystical energy searched for a threat that thought to challenge. She, however, kept her composure well in hand. For she'd bore the sting of that scathing scrutiny many times before. The blazing glare no doubt belonged to a familiar flame she'd left to brave the wind. Expression lifted their heads. Yet she refused to feed into the dust swirling about in her rearview.
Instead, she chose to focus on those around her. Those who'd begun to fill her mind and essence to near bursting. Bonnie's stare once again crept to Guthrum. Her wishing gaze collided with the sapphire heat sparking in his stare. A brilliant smile kissed his lips, and then lit her the hell up. As she fell into the blinding glow of him, she knew she wasn't long from altogether falling for him. The thought alone forced her eyes from his for much of the remainder of the evening.
Sometime during the eve Gunnhild made her way over to their table. The now queen of Kattegat dipped low, honoring Bonnie with a formal bow. "Supreme, how fortunate we are to have you back with us in Kattegat once more."
"Thank you, Queen Gunnhild," Bonnie said, while also noticing how Hali gawked up at her. "How have you and Bjorn settled into your rules' in my absence?"
"Well." The queen's smile shifted until it appeared almost burdensome on her mouth. "In verity, I've since taken over the training of the soldiers."
"I'm sure the warriors of Kattegat are the better for it," she said.
Hali slammed his palm down on the table disturbing the ale in a slew of chalices near him. "Gunnhild is the finest shieldmaiden I've ever seen."
Torvi's eyes rolled. Others at the table leveled each other with knowing looks, while a few hid telling grins behind their chalices.
Bonnie laughed, and then teased. "I bet she is, Yoda."
The Yoda in question glared holes through her as others joined her in teasing him.
"I must confess," Modesty snatched Gunnhild's head low as she made a show of clearing her throat. "There's also another reason I ventured over to intrude upon your meal, Most High."
"Hmm?" She hummed, while sitting her eating dagger to the side.
"I believe it would be beneficial to the warriors to have their Supreme come sight them train and offer them counsel," The queen explained. Her face growing more animated with each word spoken.
Bonnie's stomach turned. After years of consecutive wars, she no longer had the inclination or the will to lift her blade. All she wanted in that moment in time was to enjoy the season of peace they'd earned. For it would be fleeting.
"Forgive me, My Queen," she said as she held her gaze. "But I no longer have a taste for combat, battle training, and the such."
"Of course!" Gunnhild nodded as her disappointment thickened the air around her.
A bang on the table across the way snatched her attention from Gunnhild. Hali spit fire at her from a slitted eyed glare. "She is your queen! You should be honored to do her bidding," he sneered at her.
"And she is your Supreme," Torvi hissed across the table at her son. "The Most High! This is something you'd do well not to misremember."
Hali's indignation struck Bonnie dumb and for a moment rewound time…
"You are a witch."
"And if I am," She snatched back to look him in the face, "will you have me burned as one?"
"This depends," Ivar's head tipped forward just so. His eyes hooded. With savage intensity, blue incandescent orbs watched her through dirty blond lashes. "If you've come to bring harm to Kattegat or my family, then I shall light the pyre myself."
Bonnie blinked. She shook her head to cleanse itself of the filthy stains which refused to leave the walls of her mind. No matter how many moons got between them her lesser half would always have a choke hold on her thoughts.
"You know," her gaze rose to meet Gunnhild's. "I think I will visit the training fields on the morn."
Guthrum placed a hand over her trembling one. "Are you certain?" He uttered low enough for only her to hear.
The depth of concern resonating in his tone shifted the shattered pieces in her chest. "It's fine." She answered him, before regarding the table on the whole. "But I have grown tired and think it best I seek my leave."
After saying her goodbyes to Torvi, and the children, Guthrum escorted her back to her keep. As they walked their conversation from the eve before gnawed at her mind. Him blaming himself over her radio silence over the past year didn't sit right with her. Sure she'd given him the party line. The line she spewed to everyone, but the party didn't apply here. Not for Guthrum, a man who always looked beyond words to discern one's true purpose.
"You never disappointed me," she began. "In truth, your letters saw me through some of my darkest risings. But after I lost my daughter…" she shook her head against the wave of pain thinking about Faith provoked. "I tried, convicted, and sentenced myself to a living death. To this day I'm barely breathing…"
"I don't understand. Her stillness was of no fault of yours," Guthrum demanded, while casting her a sideways glance. "So why are you readily donning the title of guilty."
"Because I am guilty!" the path before her blurred, but she continued despite the unsureness of the journey ahead. "I should've fought harder to keep her on this side of the veil." He grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. Reaching up, he cradled her face in his palms, while rubbing at the hollow of her cheeks with his thumbs. Her gaze met his accepting one and held. An essence devastating transference tilted her world. More truth spilled from her lips, "I was lost to all…myself above all. Even now a chunk of me is still missing."
Guthrum's intriguing sapphires crept over her face. "And yet all I can sight is perfection."
"Only because perfection is catching his reflection in my stare," she whispered back. He leaned down to brush his lips against hers. Though anticipation bloomed in the lowest part of her belly for what came next, guilt for what they'd once been forced her mouth from his. "I should be going or morn will be here before I'm ready. Slumber well, Guthrum," she uttered, before twirling out of his arms to hurry away.
Just when she believed herself liberated of temptation, the forbidden emotion snuck her from behind. It took her down several levels in her morals hard and fast. Before the clouds rolled back in her mind, a hot domineering mouth covered hers. Firm tenuous muscles wrapped around her and pulled her close to a granite solid frame. In a press of urging lips, mingling tongues, and a clash of teeth, Guthrum stole her breath, but in turn presented her with the promise of life. In his arms the unthinkable didn't seem so out of pocket. Soon as the thought grazed her mind, he released her and backed away.
Bonnie's fingers flew to her lips, her mouth already missing the weight of his. Guthrum's scorching glare flickered between amber and blue under the luminous beams of the moon. Slowly, they inched over her, before rising once more to recapture her stare. "Now, I bid you a fare eve, Supreme. Slumber well."
Guthrum then turned about and marched away, while leaving her awakening world with a severe case of the upside downs.