The next day Bonnie and Bjorn arrived back at Kattegat around mid-day. Now that she'd learned more about her situation she wanted to chance another visit to Ayanna's. To see if she could add or broaden what she'd already learned from Floki. Her trek back through the woods for knowledge would have to wait though. If she attempted another excursion from Kattegat so soon after her last, Bjorn would more than likely force her to move back in with he and Torvi.

Once Bjorn stabled his horse, he insisted on walking her home. People continued to be weird, bowing to her and parting to clear a path for them. A majority of them appeared happy to have her back, while the others stared on in awe without showing one determinant emotion one way or the other. Bjorn who remained at her side the entire time nodded to a few but ignored most. His hand remained at the small of her back, maneuvering and guiding her through the crowd to her home.

When they finally made it to her house, her eyes almost rolled from her sockets into the dirt. The amount of offerings had tripled and there were fucking farm animals lumbering about everywhere, while Blida and Hilda chased after them. Bonnie exhaled her aggravation.

"I'll see to having you an altar built in the fields," Bjorn assured as he pulled her closer into his side.

"Bjorn, I don't want an altar built! I'm not a god," Bonnie snapped, whirling on him. "These people are offering me things they can't afford to give in hopes it will improve their position for the coming winter. They can't continue to do this."

"Our last harvest before Yule will be the rising after the next full moon," Bjorn said, pushing a few wild curls behind her ear. "True, we weren't fortunate with the last two yields, but this time I believe Thor will provide."

The corners of her mouth traveled upwards for his benefit, but the last thing the situation called for was an empty smile. This beyond fucked situation called for action. She didn't plan on sitting around and waiting for Thor to come up with one. She hated to dispute anyone's religion, but they'd all starve if that was the case. And didn't she hear somewhere gods help those who help themselves?

"Blida, gather all of the spices and herbs together," Bonnie said, stepping into the eye of the storm. "Hilda, you gather all of the fruit, eggs, and oats that are still salvageable." She looked over her shoulder at Bjorn. "My protector, can you gather the animals and arrange for them to have boarding until time of slaughter?"

His head dipped in a nod, before moving to sort the larger animals. She glared down at a shit ton of manure piled shin high on her welcome mat. She exhaled a growl conceived from the incestuous duo aggravation and frustration. This was going to be one of those days that didn't know how to end. She just knew it!

After Bonnie managed to bag, can, and board all of the offerings, she slipped away and cut a path for the cove. When she'd showered, washed, conditioned, and twisted her hair into a protective style, she lay back on a fur spread and stared up at the sky. Zillions of stars sparkled above her, only out done by a melded sheath of pink, green, yellow, blue, and violet. The Northern Lights. It was nearly one of the most breath snatching thing she'd ever seen. Looking up at aquatic like movements made her feel as if she lay at the bottom of the sea.

"You missed second meal," Sigurd said as he lay beside her on the fur. "Mother was so alarmed by your repeated absence she nigh drunk herself under the great table, but instead managed to drink herself under Egil."

"Sigurd!" She snorted despite herself, but still smacked him in the chest for added measure.

"Ach!" He laughed stroking his chest, "When did the truth call for retribution?"

"You shouldn't talk about your mother like that," she settled back down next to him, "Even if you think it's true. She's the only one you're gonna get you know."

"Well, thank Odin for always showing his favor," Sigurd said, tucking a hand behind his head. "Why'd you visit Floki without speaking to anyone of your whereabouts? We would've taken apart the forest and Kattegat's surrounding farmlands had no one been forthcoming of your locus. Here's a thought," his face hovered over her, "you should be more aware when next you want to go cavorting through the forest or visiting keeps nigh half a day's time away. Furthermore-,"

She reached up and pulled his face down on hers. Soon as their lips connected his tongue slipped into her mouth. What she'd done as a silencing tactic took a turn she'd never expected with him of all brothers. Sigurd never made it out of season 4. The writers never gave the fans a chance to form an attachment to the character. Yet here he was almost on top of her, kissing her like they'd done it a million times before.

When he pulled away to allow a little oxygen to pass between them, a grin settled on his swollen, crimson-stained lips. "I pondered when that would happen. You've petted all of my brothers. I'd begun to fear you didn't favor me."

"I like you just fine, young Sigurd," she gave him another peck on the lips before sitting up. "And I'd like you even more if you take me to the next crops to be harvested."

An hour and a half later found Bonnie on her knees with her hands plunged wrist deep in the soil of Kattegat's next harvest. Sigurd kneeled next to her. Confusion etched in every furrow, scrunch, and line on his face. She knew he thought her behavior strange, but she appreciated the hell out of him for keeping it to himself for the time being. To heal soil and the crops she needed to understand the problem. In order to comprehend the lands shortcomings, she needed to concentrate. After what felt like no more than a few minutes, the earth started to whisper it's secrets. It uttered each and every ailment it suffered. So, for the next few hours Bonnie listened and restored.

By the time she completed her task, ripe crops exploded from the soil ready for harvest. Bonnie stood and dusted off her hands, a little surprised by her lack of fatigue. Upon second thought, she felt fucking fantastic. Normally, a spell of this size would have her in bed for a week and there she was fine without even a bloody nose for her troubles. Hmm…A smile crept across her mouth. Her gaze dropped to Sigurd who stared at her as she'd just cracked open the gates of Valhalla and given him free reign of Asgard.

"F-Freyja," Sigurd sputtered.

Bonnie reached down and helped him to his feet. She cupped his face in his hands as her gaze arrested his sapphire stare, "You know I'm not a goddess, Sigurd. I'm Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

He looked to the explosion of yield overrunning the field, while gesturing a hand in its general direction. "But-,"

"Hey," she placed a finger over his lips, "Please let's just keep this between us, Sigurd. I don't wanna be burned as a witch…please."

His shoulders dropped as his head bobbed up and down. "I won't speak of this night to anyone. You have my word. Though, I have questions. A legion of questions."

"Thank you, Sigurd," she wrapped him in a snug hug.

When she arrived back to her keep the piglet from the day before waddled from the shadows next to her door and grunted its way over to her. She laughed as she squatted to pick it up. "Now how in Charlotte's Web did they miss you, Wilbur?" The tiny fuzzy oinker grunted a reply that sounded a bit cheeky. She clucked her tongue at its audacity, while letting herself in. "Keep it up and you'll be sizzling faster than you can oink bacon."

"With whom do you speak?" A voice floated from her bed.

She whirled around and discovered Ivar reclined on her mattress. She grinned and held up the piglet. "It seems my little friend here pulled off a Shaw Shank Redemption today when Bjorn rounded up all the farm animals."

His brows crashed together. "A Shaw what?"

"Never mind," she cuddled the piglet in the crook of her arm, "How'd you get in here?" With the wards she'd placed on the keep a heat seeking missile wouldn't have been able to make it through the door.

"I have my ways," He said, settling back unto her pillow.

Bonnie's lip quirked, but she held her tongue. Instead, she lifted the piglet, so they were eye to eye. "I'm placing hay in one corner for your waste and furs in the other for you to sleep. Be good and you might make it pass first meal without being first meal." She then scratched him behind the ears before placing him on the pile of furs to ready there corners.

"Why do you speak to the little beast as if he understands?" Ivar questioned while watching her place a folded fur spread in the corner.

She placed strips of fabric in the other corner, and then grabbed some fresh hay from by the hearth. "Because he does understand me. Pigs are smarter than you give them credit for, especially that one."

She finished the task for Wilbur and then began to undress. In nothing but her panties, she walked over to the large wooden pail filled with water on the stone table. After squirting a displaced bottle of antibacterial hand soap in her palms, she washed her hands. She cleaned under each nail and made sure to pay close attention to her cuticles. Once finished, she peered over her shoulder to see Ivar watching her like a misplaced puppy who had no sense of smell or direction to find his way home.

"Take off your clothes, Ivar," she said, approaching the bed in slow but deliberate steps.

He studied her with wide eyes as he pulled himself up in a sitting position. "Why?"

"So, I may wash you," she answered placing the pail next to the bed. "You smell-,"

"I have the scent of a man," Ivar argued, swinging his legs around so he sat on the bedside staring up at her.

"You have the scent of a farm animal and farm animals aren't allowed in my keep," she said, while helping him to remove his shirt.

He nodded his head to the piglet sleeping on the pile of furs in the corner, "What of him then?"

"Never mind Wilbur," she snapped, dropping to her knees to untie his legs, "you just worry about you. Lift your hips."

He shifted from side to side a bit, permitting her to drag his pants down his thighs. When she reached his legs, she took extra care not to jostle his legs. Once she had him relieved of his clothing, her gaze drifted over him. His upper body was toned from years of overcompensation. Even his thighs were oddly muscular. Yet, the bones in his legs lacked sinewy brawn. Years of breakage and improper healing had given them a gnarled and deformed appearance. Her stare lifted to capture his only to find he'd cast his fiery blues away.

"Now, you see," the raspy whisper left his lips broken under the weight of so many unresolved emotions, "I'm only but half a man, destined to spend the rest of my risings crawling around in the filth of Kattegat. I'll never do the things or become the men Ubbe, Hvitserk, or even Sigurd will do or become. So, why offer something as treasured as your heart to one such as me, hmm?" His flaming methane stare rediscovered hers. An ocean of pain brimmed his lower lids. "I'm after all nothing more than a cripple."

The ache in his voice manifested in her chest. If only she could take the pain away. Not the physical pain. No that was easy. She wanted to relieve him of the hurt gnawing away at his heart and poisoning his soul until nothing remained but, Ruthless Ivar the Boneless. Sadness dropped her shoulders as she straddled his lap. His manhood stiffened and lengthened…and lengthened beneath her. Damn!

She mental bitch slapped herself to recenter her focus as she cradled his face in her palms. "No, you'll not do the things Ubbe, Hvitserk, or Sigurd will do." His eyes slipped closed as a tear escaped the prison of his lids and trickled down his cheek. "You'll do more and be a force far greater than nature while doing so. Nothing will stop fate or destiny from making a threesome out of you. Not your legs or this damn—defeatist woe is me—attitude you've spontaneously developed. An attitude that looks far better on my arrogant piglet than you, might I add." Wilbur grunted his offense from the corner.

Ivar scoffed, and covertly swiped at the lone tear dampening his cheek. He then slid his arms slid around her waist. "It is cruel of you to continue knocking a cripple off his feet at every turn, My Love."

"Not if hitting the ground is the only way to knock sense back into him," she shrugged, before climbing from his lap to begin washing him.

After soaping, rinsing, and drying Ivar, Bonnie helped him to lie back on the mattress. Utilizing deliberate strokes, she massaged warm scented oil into his skin. Working her way from his neck until she reached his legs. Her magic pooled in her palms. The sorcery seeped from her fingertips. Mystical energy penetrated the appendages right to the marrow of the bone. A moan burst from his mouth. His clawed fingers curled and twisted in the bed furs. Semen dripped from the head of his penis, puddling at the upper part of his abdomen.

"M-My Love," he gasped as a load shot from his manhood, hitting the ceiling of the keep. "W-what did you d-do?" he forced out between pants.

She dipped the rag back in the pail of water, and then began cleaning his chest. "You were in pain." After dropping the rag back into the water, she joined him in the bed and cuddled into his side. "And now you're not."

"I-I've never…,"

"Yeah, but you will again, and next time so will I." She pressed a kiss to his left pec. "Ivar?"

"Yes?" His palm slid over her bare back, inching lower and lower each time it made the trek downward.

She turned to balance her chin on his chest. "You know in this life you'll never be normal, right?"

"Of this, I am well aware," his stare travelled over her face, maybe hoping to understand her abrupt swerve in topics, "yes."

"Yet extraordinary is what you are, and in time the things you'll do will come to reflect that," she stared at him. What was it about him that moved her so? "I've sworn my allegiance and loyalty to Bjorn. I vowed to never stand opposite of him on a battlefield and to always remain at his side." Before the objection could leave his mouth, it wrinkled his brow and crumpled his face. She raised a hand. "In return, he granted me my freedom and placed me under his protection. Which is ideal considering the alternative."

"I don't understand," he propped himself up on an elbow, "Why are you speaking of this to me?"

"There's gonna be a day when you show the world just who in the hell Ivar the Boneless is and I need you to understand the reason why I won't be standing with you," she dropped her gaze for a moment before retraining it back on him. "The operative words being…standing…with…you."

"What…" Comprehension slanted his head sideways. "Are you saying, My Love…"

"Ivar, there's something within me that is inexplicably yours." Her shoulders rose and dropped, "I'm not sure what it is, but it reaches for you whenever you're near and longs for you when you're not."

"My Love-,"

She placed a finger to his lips. "Though I have traded away almost everything that would be of use to you, there's still some things I have left to give." Her hand drifted to his leg. "You will never run. Yet, I can make it possible for you to stand and even manage to sort of walk…with assistance."

"That's…that's…how?" He pulled himself in an upright position. "There's no way. My bones are too weak to bear weight, and-,"

"And, you'll have to trust me," she climbed in his lap and straddled him, "because in order for me to fix the deformities in your legs, I'll have to break the bones in several different places so that I can reset them correctly. It'll be painful-,"

"I've known pain all my life," he insisted, capturing her waist in a firm hold. "Suffering is of no consequence to me. For a mere moment on my feet, I'd bear several lifetimes of pain."

"Alright," she looped her arms around his neck. "Then after the harvest feast-,"

His neck snapped back as he frowned up at her. "The harvest feast won't be for another full moon."

"There'll be a harvest feast this eve."

"This is not possible. There's been no growth in the fields," he argued, shaking his head for emphasis. "My mother believes there'll only be enough yield for the household and a few slaves. And even that won't see us through the winter."

"Queen Aslaug is wrong. This harvest will feed every family in Kattegat, along with the surrounding farms," Bonnie rested her forehead on his. "Trust me, everyone will be fine this winter. Now as I was saying," she used her weight to urge him to lie back. "The eve after the feast we'll go to the hunting cabin in the hills and begin the process."

The next morning Bonnie awakened to raised excited voices. Sheep baaing could be heard right outside her front door, while loud knocking sounds banged against the wall of her keep every so often. She craned her neck in the direction of the commotion.

"It would seem you had the right of it," Ivar's voice drifted from next to her, "I overheard your shieldmaidens earlier. It seems Kattegat is preparing for a harvest feast this eve." He flipped over so that his upper body and face loomed over her. Grasping her neck in a gentle hold, he peered down into her eyes. "How could you know such things? How are you able to speak of times to come if you're not a witch?"

"Which theory bouncing around in that beautiful mind of yours do you want to be true?" She asked, leaving the next move up to him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a banging at the door robbed him of his words. A sneer robbed the perfection of his face of its faultlessness. His electric blues rolled to hurl visual battleaxes at the person on the other side of the barrier. Without a word he leaned down, and then pressed his lips to hers. She surprised him by biting his bottom lip and tugging. When she permitted the succulent morsel to snap back in place, she placed another kiss on his mouth. After she'd had her fill, she wiggled free from under him and slid out of the bed. Another knock slammed against the door.

"Coming!" She yelled.

Quickly, she slipped a plain sleeveless sheath dress over her head. She then snatched a green velvet lace up over dress off a twenty first century hanger. Once she pulled her arms through the voluminous sleeves, she tugged the strings taught securing the habit in place. After dressing she moved over to the mirror and began untwisting all but two of her protective twists. With a little rice oil in her hand, she fluffed and finessed her curls. The two remaining twists she pulled them back, pinning them to either side of her head. Pushing her feet in her shoes, she turned to glance at Ivar.

"Well, what'd you think? Is this something that'll be worn to prepare for a harvest feast?" She asked spinning around.

He scoffed with a little shake of the head, "No."

"Well, if they ain't hating, then you ain't doin' it right," She muttered before she turned to open the door.

Sigurd to on the walkway with more offerings littered at his feet, while Blida and Hilda were hard at work trying to manage it all. Wilbur shot pass her out the open door to freedom. Sigurd jumped out the way and nearly tripped over a pitcher of mead.

"Good morning, Blida," her gaze shot to the short strawberry blonde, "Hilda."

"Happy morn, Goddess."

Bonnie didn't bother correcting them, instead her gaze darted to Sigurd. "Come in, Sigurd."

"Have you heard," Sigurd rushed in allowing the door to close behind him, "Kattegat's grower came to the great hall this morn to speak with Bjorn and my mother. They've begun reaping the harvest rather than waiting for the next full moon. You've saved us." He snatched her close and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "You've saved us all, Valkyrie."

"In what way has she saved us, brother," Ivar demanded, regarding them both through narrowed lids. Sigurd released her and spun on his heel in the direction of the bed. A cross between a smirk and a sneer lifted the corner of Ivar's mouth. "One would think the growth of the crops would be an act of the gods, not a foreigner who knows nothing of our beliefs or way of life."

"Why's he here?" Sigurd questioned without taking his eyes off of Ivar.

"Is it not obvious, hmm?" Ivar taunted, he waved a hand over his semi-covered naked body, "What other reason is there for me to be here as I am?"

The muscle in Sigurd's jaw twitched. Bonnie's eyes rolled. This was one pissing contest she refused to get wet up in. "Ivar, would you please respect me by respecting my privacy. What happens between you and I should remain there."

Undiluted pleasure relaxed the muscles in Ivar's face as his gaze openly mocked his brother. "Many apologies, My Love."

"Sigurd," She placed a finger under his chin, and then angled his face around until his eyes met hers. "Same goes for you. I've trusted you with something. Something I've not shared with anyone else. Are my secrets still secure with you?"

He raised his wrist and wrapped a hand around the gold bracelet that encircled it. "I swear it upon my arm ring."

Covering his hand with hers, a grin touched her lips. "Then I believe you."

"Bjorn sent me to escort you to the reaping. He's waiting there for you with Torvi and his sons." His glare swung to Ivar. The condescension flowing between the two set her nerves on edge. "Mother senses have taken leave of her once again. When you didn't come home last eve, she began consuming ale by the tankard full. Now she's at the trading tables screaming your name at any poor unsuspecting babe who happens to crawl by. If you don't return to the great hall soon I fear she may do something truly foolish like tumble off of the harbor into the sea." He looked to her. "I'll wait for you outside."

"Alright." She kissed his cheek before watching him leave.

Ivar exhaled a sigh borne of sheer weariness and aggravation. A weight he hadn't seemed to be carrying before appeared to now be crushing him. She watched as he brought his legs over the side of the mattress and sat there staring at nothing in particular. His face locked in indefinite indifference, while his eyes screamed and burned for something more than his present existence. It was almost as if he were a flicker of a flame trapped in a glacier. An inward battle to be decided by time. In which one of two things would happen. Either the flame would wither, or the glacier would melt under the heat of the blaze's retaliating rage. No matter on what side the penny landed, a glorious part of him would have to die for the other to thrive.

She sat down next to him on the bed, resting her head on his shoulder. Her fingers tangled with his as their hands clasped together. For a moment they sat there enjoying each other's energy. After a few more lingering seconds, he lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to the back of hers.

"Go, My Love," he rasped, moving his mouth along her inner wrist. "I'll come to you once I've seen to my mother. If, that's what you desire."

"Above all, you're what I desire, Ivar," she whispered.

Bonnie was shook to her very essence by the confession which had spun to life on her tongue and leaped from her mouth without a care for timing or rejection. Who was she, now? Who had she become in the past couple weeks since she'd been there? Better question, who would she be when the last war was fought, and the last body buried? Even now she could feel her motivations shifting, her heart changing.

"Hmm." A small smile pranced across his lips, while his eyes fluttered closed. Mystical energy seeped from him and swirled about them. "You and I will marry here at Kattegat overlooking the sea. It will be on Frigg's day. A crown of wildflowers will adorn your head. You'll come to me more beautiful than any eye can behold, and I'll…," his voice fractured, but he continued, "I'll stand next to the high priestess awaiting you to join me in matrimony." His eyes opened to regard her. "This I can see. This I can see as I see you now."

A tear slipped down her cheek. In that moment she knew he'd been right when he'd once said free will was nothing more than an illusion. For they were inevitable. Brushing her tear away, she dropped his hand and rose. "I should go, before Bjorn comes looking for me." She leaned down and kissed him once more on the lips. "Come to me as soon as you can."

When Bonnie arrived at the site of the final harvest, she saw Bjorn and most of the men reaping the crops with curved blades that looked better suited for the Grim Reaper. Others had begun gathering the animals to be butchered for the winter months. Wilbur must've sensed danger in the change of environment because he burrowed under her skirts and remained. Ubbe walked by and nodded his greeting in passing. It was then Sigurd excused himself to follow.

She spun to continue taking in the scene and spotted Torvi. Her stomach dropped. She hadn't spoken with her since they'd returned from Floki's. How was she supposed to face her after what she'd allow Bjorn to do? Not ready to put her indiscretions on full review, she pivoted to turn away.

"Bonnie?" Torvi called after her.

"Damn," Bonnie muttered, before turning back.

Torvi set upon a fur spread with a glow that only a genuinely happy and healthy pregnant woman could manage. Her pale blonde hair fell down around her petite frame. A smile that displayed all of her teeth split her face in two. When Bonnie towered over her, she waved a hand at the fur to sit. Feeling sick as hell, she did as requested. Wilbur scurried from under her skirt and plopped down without invitation or care. Torvi gaze flared as she watched the arrogant piglet who ran them no attention. Not even on credit.

"Bonnie, you have my deepest gratitude," Torvi began, before Bonnie even settled. "The tonic you gave me halted my carrying sickness. I'm now able to consume first and second meal without fear of becoming ill."

Bonnie stared at her hands for a moment until she worked up the audacity to tell Torvi her wrongs. "I'm glad the tonic helped you, Torvi, but you owe me nothing. Least of all gratitude." She raised her gaze to stare Torvi directly in the pupils. "The other night when Bjorn came to get me from Floki's…something happened and though an apology means nothing in the face of betrayal, I'm so very sorry."

"I had my suspicions," Torvi said, casting her gaze over to Bjorn who was speaking with a group of men. "I'm not sightless. He lusts after you and thinks himself in love."

Bonnie studied Torvi's profile as she watched Bjorn as if the wind might take him away. "It'll never happen again, I-,"

"Yes, it will. Because whether you choose to be truthful with yourself or not, Bjorn is not the only one among the two of you who suffers from these affections," Torvi gaze drifted back to hers as she reached out to take hold of her hand. "Bonnie you are forgiven. Bjorn is an impossible man to resist. Especially, when he means to have you."

"Your forgiveness is a kindness I'm sure I don't deserve, but treasure just the same," Bonnie said, giving her hand a small squeeze.

For the rest of the day Bonnie helped to prepare Kattegat for the harvest feast. When time for the feast to start drew near, she excused herself to shower in the cove. The wolves greeted her as she made her way through the forest. Once she reached the cove, she undressed and waded over to the waterfall with her basket in hand. The supernaturally warmed water cascaded over her. Her tension knotted muscles loosened. A moan vibrated from deep within her throat.

"What have I told you about leaving Kattegat without an escort?" Bjorn called from the shore. "This is not the eve to indulge in your strange behaviors."

Bonnie screeched and damn near inhaled enough water for two lungs. She doubled over and gave the water back to the cove. Seconds later, chorded bands of muscles scooped her from the rock and placed her in an equally hard lap. The plaster of drenched curls were pushed out of her face. When Bjorn's face came into view, she smiled.

Her brow arched. "What strange behaviors?"

"You know well of the strange behaviors I speak," he said, releasing her to pull his soaked shirt over his head. "Washing yourself every rising is unnatural. Doing so will wash away your womanly saps. Which shall make having you quite unpleasant for your husband. And since I'm to be your husband, I'm well within my right to demand you halt with your foolish practices."

"Bjorn," the joy from a moment ago faded. She attempted to pull herself from him, but his arms tightened, "you've gotta stop saying stuff like that to me. It's disrespectful to Torvi and confuses things between us." She glanced away. "I told her what happened with us while at Floki's."

"This is good," he said, grasping her chin and turning her face back to him, "There's no reason she shouldn't know. Soon enough you'll join us in matrimony." He attempted to slip his finger between her thighs and she hopped from his lap like his penis was shooting fire.

"I should finish bathing before the feast starts," She said, determined not to turn down that road again. She refused to be the hoe he used to dig his way out of his marriage.