"She is a witch!" The drunkard hissed whispered to his companion as they stumbled through the dark pathways which led from the harbor to the long house. "I'm speaking the truth. I watched her stick her hands in the soil and force the crops from the ground. The yield is poisoned!"
"Baa!" His companion scoffed and shoved him away. "Go find your bed. You're not fit for the feast. If not for Odin, your foolish mishandling of the farm would've seen more than half Kattegat's people starved." He stalked away towards the long house.
"But she's a witch!" The drunkard screeched after him.
His companion whirled around, "And what if she is? So, is Freyja! She's the queen of witches and magic. Even the All-Father's been known to fiddle with witchery." He threw up his hands and spun back towards the long house. "Quarreling about anything with you is for the witless. I'm going to the feast."
"She's not one of us, she's a foreigner!" The drunkard bellowed after his friend who only swatted another hand at him as he marched away.
Sigurd waited in the shadows for the drunkard to stumble his way pass. When the inebriate cleared him he stepped from the shadows. Soundlessly, he clasped a hand over the man's mouth and sliced his throat from jawbone to jawbone. The old fool gurgled and choked on his blood before his body went limp. He allowed the dead son of a whore to slip to the ground. After cleaning his blade on the man's shirt Sigurd rose and stepped over his body to head back to the long house.
"Sigurd Lothbrok, son of Ragnar Lothbrok," a lyrical voice said from just over his shoulder. He pivoted around with his dagger at the ready only to find Floki grinning at him.
"Floki," Sigurd said, lowering his blade. His glance darted to the dead man who smile with glee from his neck. "I was-,"
"Protecting her," Floki finished for him. "This is good, Sigurd. She is to be protected, whatever the cost. Come, let us feast."
"Goddess," A young man murmured with reverence as he placed another offering next to Bonnie's feet.
Though sweet, the whole affair was becoming really annoying. Pretty soon she wouldn't be able to get up without tripping over all the stuff that littered her move around room. "Thank you," she said to the man who looked familiar. Did he have some type of glow up in the show?
"May I be bold and speak my intentions?" He questioned staring her directly in the eyes. Something others who'd approached her had yet to do.
"Um," Bonnie's gaze darted from left to right, hoping to locate one of the brothers to run interference. The young man's polite but compelling nature reminded her of someone. She just couldn't put her paw on who? "Please, I prefer it when people share their intent."
To her—can't look away from a train wreck—horror he dropped to one knee. Taking her hand in his, he stared into her eyes. The once raucous hall went dead man silent. Not even the gulping of ale met the ear.
"Goddess," he began.
"Bonnie," she corrected, more out of habit than anything else.
"Bonnie," A genuine smile dimpled his cheek. "I'd like to court you. It is my hope that once you come to know me you will agree to become my wife."
Whispers rippled through the room. When she glanced up her eyes collided with varying shades of glaring Lothbrok blues. Her gaze narrowed. Where the hell were they five minutes ago? There she sat seconds from getting engaged and there they were staring at her like she was the shit starter in this little scenario.
Floki's high pitch tinkle carved through the hushed whispers. "Friend, you offer to court her, yet have you even told her your name?"
"My apologies, Bonnie," the young man said. His eyes wide and sincere. "I am Mikael. My father is Earl Mikaelson."
Her eyes nearly popped from their sockets and rolled in her lap. She looked to Floki who stared back. He appeared to be as undone as her. Her gaze shot back to an incredibly young not yet homicidal looking Mikael. "You're M-Mikael Mikaelson?"
"You've heard sagas told of me?" His face glowed.
She nodded still to stunned to even think. "Y-yes, your sons-,"
"Will likely be many," Floki finished. He cut an eye to her and gave his head a little shake. "I've heard tales that you Mikaelsons are of good stock. You practically live forever." His high-pitched giggle was met with others in the hall.
"Good stock or not, Bonnie is under my protection." The revelers parted creating a path that soon presented Bjorn. "And since her maiden head is still intact, it is I who will decide which warriors will court her or if she will be courted at all." Did he just blast her second virginity?
Ubbe dropped down in the seat next to hers. With that unblinking sky-blue stare, he scrutinized Mikael, while taking the bejeweled curved horn from her hand and drinking from the glorified cup. Hvitserk not to be outdone plopped down in the other chair next to her. He then took her hand and placed a lingering and rather telling kiss on her inner wrist.
Embarrassed as hell, she offered Mikael a weak smile. "Thank you for considering me."
Appearing passed disturbed, he inclined his head in a bow of acknowledgment and turned to leave. Moments later she felt Sigurd at her back. The press of his body warmed her all the way through. He leaned down and placed his mouth next to her ear, "The cabin is in order."
"Perfect, where's Ivar?" She questioned glancing around the great hall.
"He's with mother, she's in the throes of another one of her episodes," he said.
Episodes? Her brow quirked. That wasn't in the show. "What kind of episodes?"
Hvitserk and Ubbe exchanged glances, and then glared at Sigurd. He ignored them both. "She suffers with the sight. Normally, the ale helps, but when the visions are constant and calamitous, nothing does."
"Where is she?" Bonnie stood and by some miracle she managed not to step on any of the offerings.
Ubbe slid from his seat to tower over her. "She's not fit for visitors. See her when-,"
"Show me, Sigurd," she demanded stepping around Ubbe.
He shrugged at Ubbe, before turning to lead the way. When she moved to follow, Hvitserk stood and blocked her way. "Are you really gonna stop me, Hvits?" He folded his arms across his chest. Her gaze swung from him to Ubbe. "Guys, I know y'all are trying to protect your mother, but she's suffering needlessly. I can help her!"
"Only Odin can help her," Ubbe said, with no give on his face or relent in his voice.
"Or Harbard," Sigurd added.
Bonnie peered at him over Hvitserk shoulder. "Not helping, Sigurd."
"Well, what harm could be done?" Hvitserk tore his eyes from her to stare at Ubbe.
"Mother would not care for anyone seeing her in such a state," Ubbe argued.
While they went back and forth Bonnie ducked Hvitserk's hold. She zipped around him and hurried pass the thrones to the side door. Sigurd's bottom lip almost slapped the floor.
"Sigurd! Why the hell are you standing there looking crazy? Go!" Bonnie screeched as she barreled towards him.
The reprimand was enough to get him going. He shot off through the doorway and she followed him. She didn't know if Ubbe and Hvitserk followed. Last thing she wanted was to slow her roll in order to check their progress.
Moments later they crashed through the beaded dressing hanging from the arch of the doorway. Queen Aslaug lay twisting and shouting in bed, while Ivar sat in a chair across from her wearing a helpless expression. Anger darkened his features when he noticed Bonnie and Sigurd.
"Why have you brought her here?" Ivar bellowed.
Bonnie ignored him as she crossed the room. "How long has she been like this?" Lifting her dress, she climbed on the bed and crawled over to where the queen lay.
"This is not your concern!" Ivar snapped.
"Since after first meal," Sigurd answered. "Her fits sometimes last several risings."
"No matter what happens, don't touch me and if you care anything for me don't let anyone witness what I'm about to do," her gaze swung to Ivar. "You wanna know if I'm a witch. Yes, now do with it what you will." She placed her hands-on Queen Aslaug's head. Bennett magic and something more exploded from her palms.
An explosion of lights and colors overtook her field of sight. Flashes of Lagertha flickered in and out so fast she could barely make out the vision. Each displayed before her in translucent hazes for fractions of seconds at a time. Kind of as if she stood in front of a film projector reeling a preview in fast forward. Bonnie pushed her way through the elusive predictions to the source.
An enormous murky dark blue eye illuminated the space. Substantial mystical energy radiated from the source. Yet, due to years of disregard for her gift and shirking proper training of said gift the preternatural force now controlled the host. Because that's exactly what Aslaug had become to her parasitic magic. No longer was she and her powers one and the same. Her sorcery had turned against her and during its neglect her foresight had grown. It would never again be of any use to her now or ever. Sadness overwhelmed Bonnie. She prayed that Queen Aslaug wasn't attached to her second sight. If so, she'd hopefully be able to forgive her. With a wave of the hand, Bonnie closed the eye. To ensure the object of premonition remained blind she sealed the lid shut with a binding spell.
Bonnie withdrew her hands from the queen's head. Finger shaped bruises decorated the sides of her forehead. Blood trickled from Aslaug's nose. Shock stretched her eyes wide and paled her skin from white to translucent. Even her vibrant red hair appeared faded.
"T-Thank you," Queen Aslaug said as a tear trickled down her cheek.
Bonnie opened her mouth to speak, but her words lingered on her tongue. The air in the room thickened. Black spots peppered her vision. She gasped to force air into her lungs. Yet nothing she did relieved the feeling of her being suffocated. Several hands gripped her arms, while far away voices called her name. The blemishes which stained her sight multiplied. Soon only darkness thrived.
"What do you mean, you do not know?" The bass in Bjorn's voice penetrated the shroud of darkness that surrounded her. "It is impossible for you not to know. You and Ivar were in her company when she fell ill were you not?"
"Yes," Sigurd answered, sounding more than a little harassed, "We were in her company, and still we don't know what brought about this sickness. One moment she was speaking with my mother and the next-,"
"She fell ill," Bjorn finished for him.
"Yes," Sigurd agreed readily.
"In your mother's quarters?" Bjorn questioned, almost in a leading manner.
Oh shit! Bonnie wanted to yell for Sigurd to be careful, but she couldn't open her eyes not even to save Odin's remaining eye.
"Yes, Bjorn," Sigurd exhaled.
There was a pause, before, "Why was she in your mother's quarters? Your mother was in the midst of a fit was she not?" Sigurd must've given him a nonverbal yes because he continued. "Then why have Bonnie in your mother's presence in such a state?"
"She thought she could help mother," Hvitserk's voice joined the mix.
"How?" Bjorn questioned without even a hesitation of a pause.
The guys really needed to reevaluate the credit they afforded Bjorn's cleverness. Didn't they understand it took more than brute force to lead an opposing army to their own slaughter? As he was doing now!
"Come now, Bjorn," Floki's melodic tone interceded. "You cannot expect men to have a mind for women's illnesses. Return to the feast. Since Queen Aslaug is not well you're next in line to assume her duties."
"I will not leave Bonnie alone in this state!" He snapped.
"She won't be alone. Helga and I will stay with her," Floki assured, his tone gentle and soothing.
"Go, Bjorn," Helga said. "We will send word as soon as she's awake."
There was a long pause before Bjorn spoke, "As soon as she awakes." He stated in a firm tone.
"Of course," Helga agreed.
Seconds later she felt the brush of lips graze hers. Then there was a brisk chill, and the slamming of a door a moment later. A weight shifted next to her. Calloused fingers tangled with hers. Her palms connected with worn leather material. Ivar. Revitalizing energy swirled up her arm and radiated throughout her body. Light pierced the darkness in glaring luminosity until not even a speckled spot remained.
The once tarry darkness now shimmered with radiance before the golden glow of her sorcery. Once acceptance was given by her magic, the rehabilitated preternatural force threaded itself with her powers and infused her with enough strength to bench press an eighteen-wheeler. Reality whizzed towards her consciousness at the speed of sound. The two collided. An explosion of sight blasted her unseeing eyes. Faces floated into her field of vision. Ivar's features loomed over her. Even as worry furrowed the skin between his brows, relief and joy glistened from the depths of his eyes.
"She's awake," Sigurd said as his face danced into view.
Hvitserk popped into her periphery. "Do you believe her wits are intact?"
"Of course, they are intact! Why wouldn't she be in possession of her wits?" Ivar hissed in the softest of tones, while stroking her cheek. He barely spared Hvitserk a glance.
"It is only a question, Ivar," Ubbe, always the peacekeeper, stated. "There's no cause to shore up your defenses."
"It's a legitimate question! She hasn't spoken a word since awakening," Hvitserk argued kneeling next to her taking her free hand. "What if helping mother has somehow addled her?"
"I'm not addled," Bonnie said, surprised by the strength in her voice. "And I'm very much in possession of my wits, Hvitserk."
She sat up, glanced around, and then noticed they'd brought her home. How long had she been out? With magical burnouts one could never tell and since it had been a while since her last she considered herself due. Her gaze did another quick dart around the room and it dawned on her. Floki and Helga were missing.
"Are you alright?" Ubbe asked, as he hung back by the door. "For a moment we feared…"
"I'm fine," she waved off his question, because she had a tingling suspicion she was anything but fine ten minutes ago. "How's Queen Aslaug? Did she recover from her…fit?"
"Mother is well and will rest for the remainder of the eve," Ivar answered. He squeezed her hand. "Had you not helped, she'd still be plagued by the visions in her head. Yet, I can't ignore all I've witnessed this eve."
"And yet you must," Sigurd's firm tone brooked no room for argument as he stepped forward with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Gilded fire shot from her hands," Ivar scoffed, while watching Sigurd as if he'd just told everyone the world was round. "Her eyes burned gold. Now this can mean one of many things, and two of those many may be the most distressing of all." He released her hand to study her. "Either she's a goddess and we should rejoice Kattegat's good fortune or she's a foreign witch sent here by the trickster to destroy all we know and love. In which case she should be burned alive."
In mere seconds Sigurd crossed the room and snatched her from the bed. In a move as swift as an original vampire, he pushed her behind his back and had the point of his sword placed at Ivar's chest. "Harm her and I will separate your boneless legs from your meaningless body, Brother." He growled through the slits of his teeth. "I swear it upon my arm ring."
"Ivar isn't going to harm Bonnie, Sigurd," Hvitserk said, attempting to laugh off a very real threat. "Right, Ivar?" When Ivar didn't answer, Hvitserk gaze darted to the man in question. "Ivar?"
"Hvitserk, you saw how she made haste to elude us. We could barely track her advancement with our eyes," Ubbe said, in a quieter tone meant for reasoning, except his rationalization wasn't benefitting her case at all. "We've all noticed there is something different about Bonnie. Tell me she doesn't afflict your thoughts every second of every rising. To the point you see no one else but her. You don't want to know any other womanly sap but hers. Who else bewitches the mind in such a way if not a witch?"
Everyone took a beat to watch Ubbe. Most of the screws he should've been working with appeared to have gone missing.
"Yes, Ubbe," Ivar nodded, his head as he slowed his speech. "She all but confessed to being a witch before she aided mother this eve. What's to be decided-,"
The point of Sigurd's sword pierced Ivar's skin and Bonnie almost regurgitated her heart. "No," she rushed around and placed a hand over Sigurd's wrist. "Please, don't." He stared into her eyes for a moment before lowering his sword. Her gaze swept over them all, and then resettled back on Ivar. "No, I'm not a goddess. There's not much I can reveal about myself at this stage without probably invoking the butterfly effect. Just know, I mean you no harm."
"Butterfly effect?" Ivar's eyes narrowed. "What is the Butter-,"
The door to the keep swung open. Floki and Helga entered. Their eyes skipped over each of them. "What are you all up to here?" Floki asked, while strolling through the room and studying each of them.
"You've recovered." Helga rushed over to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the bench next to the dining table. "We were worried for you."
"I'm fine, Helga," she said, distracted by the lack of back and forth between the Lothbrok brothers and Floki. "Feels like nothing happened at all."
"Ivar?" Floki questioned, squatting near the bed to peer into Ivar's face. He then dropped a pointed stair to the drops of blood staining Ivar's shirt. "What has occurred here in our absence?"
"Typical brothers' disputes when a woman is involved," Ivar evaded as he slid from her bed. Without another word he slithered towards the door.
One by one all except Sigurd made up flimsy excuses to leave. Once only the four of them remained, Floki's scrutiny fell to her. "Would you like to tell me what happened?" She opened her mouth to brush off the semi falling out with the brothers, but he cut her off with a raised hand. "Beginning with what transpired between you and Queen Aslaug tonight."
"Queen Aslaug's energy was corrupt. Instead of being an extension of her, it used her as some sort of host," Bonnie said, remembering the infected ambiance of the queen's third eye. The entire vibe of the sorcery felt like the end result of expression magic and the hallow fusing together in a depraved merger. "It had taken to draining her life force. If I hadn't stepped in, she wouldn't have survived the winter."
"You should've let her perish," Sigurd said, dropping down on the foot of the bed.
Bonnie's face crumpled as she shook her head at him. "Don't speak things like that into existence, Sigurd. Your tongue has a way of giving birth to life."
"Exactly what did you do to aid the queen?" Floki questioned again, disregarding the ongoing conversation between she and Sigurd.
"I shut her third eye and sealed it closed with a binding spell but," Bonnie's gaze moved away to analyze thin air.
"But?" Floki crossed the room, and then sat next to her on the bench.
"Something happened toward the end of the spell," she remembered a fraction of the sorcery evacuating the eye before it fully closed, then attacking her. Attempting to use the same spell on her she'd used to dispose of the tainted magic. "Her energy and the incantation turned against me."
"Of course it did," Floki snapped. Wild and crazy danced in his eyes. "You engaged it as an equal and it acknowledged you as such. Yet, you're not it's equal. Your likeness is matched by no other. You are the supreme of all magic. The mother of all supernatural things. Though even before you were all of those titles, you were a Bennett Witch first. Now, where you and I come from, there's not only power in that name, there's also strength." He glared at her, while his chest bucked with each heave. "Third rate sorcery nearly took your sight this eve because you've seemed to have forgotten who you are and from where you hail."
"I'm not a brand-new witch. I've been doing this for a min-,"
"First line of magic you are," Floki placed a finger to her lips. "You have no concept of what that phrase truly means do you?" She opened her mouth, but then closed it. If she was running it above one hundred then he was right. Those words never really computed for her. He covered her hand with his. "Put aside your worries, Helga and I will winter at Kattegat. By the time spring arrives you'll know who you are and why all things of the supernatural ilk must acquiesce to your rule."
Bonnie exhaled her disgust. Over a thousand years into the past and still life threw her the same curve balls. "Why does my life always have to be one blood-stained battle after the next?"
"Because without battle how will one ever truly know how to honor victory?" Floki questioned with an impish grin.
"Asides," Sigurd added, scooting to the edge of the mattress to rest his forearms on his thighs. His jewel blue stare connected with hers. "It's the Viking way."