"What do you think this is about?" Bonnie asked Sigurd, while eyeing the men Bjorn sent to retrieve them from the cabin.
Sigurd side-eyed her. "Do you really not know, or are you hoping I'll suggest something that doesn't involve Ubbe?"
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Ivar still trailed them a couple of hundred feet back in the wagon. Humph, she hoped he caught his fair share of hell back there, because her cakes were fucking baked. She shifted again on the horse attempting to soothe the ache in her ass.
Horseback riding was a hobby she hated with the fury of a thousand original hybrids. Ever since she was eight and Caroline dragged her to their first equestrian lesson, she'd always taken an active resentment to any mode of transportation which involved four legs.
"No, I'm just wondering what level of upset would Bjorn have to be in order to send a team of Viking warriors into the hills to escort us back to Kattegat?" She questioned as they approached the walls of the city.
Sigurd cocked a brow. "You think him angry?"
"You don't?" Bonnie scoffed.
"I think him in love," Sigurd said, pulling his horse to a stop at the gates.
Her face scrunched. "You do?"
"Dangerously so," Sigurd confirmed.
The gates swung opened. They continued on to the long house. Once in front of the entrance, Sigurd helped Bonnie from her horse. She glanced back towards the wagon carrying Ivar. Every urge within her wanted to stay and oversee his removal from the cart, but he demanded she keep her distance. So, instead of making a fuss about them ensuring his safe arrival into the hall, she entered with Sigurd at her side.
Inside the feast was still going strong. Revelers moved freely around the great hall, singing, drinking, and retelling tales of raids gone by. Laughter echoed off the walls and Bonnie wished she'd opted to have taken her ass home. Sigurd slipped his arm around her waist, and then sheltered her closer to his body. With ease he maneuvered them through the throngs of intoxicated festers, to the queen's private dining area. Soon as they penetrated the decorative beads hanging over the entryway, the subdued quietness of the room muted the buck wild crazy going live in the great hall. Damn, she hated she left Ivar to fend for himself. Those poor people.
"Bonnie!" Helga and Torvi rushed over to her an pulled her into a hug. "How are you? Bjorn said you fell ill last eve after tending to Queen Aslaug," Torvi said, while leading her over to a seat at the private dining table.
Queen Aslaug reached over and covered Bonnie's hand with one of hers. Worry and ale clouded her normally bright eyes. "Ivar?"
"He's well, and not far behind," she assured, before allowing her gaze to meet Torvi's and Helga's. "I'm well, Torvi. The excitement last eve was a bit much. It just took me by surprise, that's all." She glanced around. "Where's Guthrum and Hali?"
"Your shieldmaidens, Blida and Hilda, have taken them to Hedeby for a fortnight," Torvi said, pouring a chalice of ale and handing it to her. She cut her big, beautiful but very accusing eyes at Bjorn, who in turn dropped his just as guilty gaze to his hands.
She offered Torvi a smile but kept her gaze trained on Bjorn. Leaving her seat, she moved to kneel beside him. Once there, she looked up into his downturned face. When their eyes connected the corner of his mouth quirked. "Hey."
A small smile crept across his lips. "Hey?"
"It means greetings in my land," she explained, slipping a hand in his, she gave it a little squeeze. His deep blue gaze slid over her face in an unhurried review. Sigurd's words floated back to her about Bjorn's motive for sending his warriors. "Thank you for sending warriors to escort me back to Kattegat. Though, you shouldn't have troubled yourself. Sigurd and Ivar or more than savage enough to keep me safe."
"Savage?" Sigurd questioned, sounding a little offended.
Her eyes rolled. "It means not to be fuc-," she cast her gaze to Floki's disapproving face and cleared her throat, "trifled with where I come from."
"Oh well, then. Sounds fitting enough," pleasure tainted his tone. He paused for a beat and his face scrunched, "Even Boneless?"
She cast her gaze over her shoulder at him. "Especially Boneless."
"What about Boneless?" Ivar said, slithering through the beads.
"Bjorn sent for you to hear your thoughts on a matter concerning Ubbe," Queen Aslaug, said lifting her cup in a mock toast before taking a sip.
Bonnie stood from her perch next to Bjorn to glance around the dining area. Hvitserk and Ubbe were both missing from the assemble. "Where is Ubbe?"
"He and Hvitserk are about to plow the slave girl. They were making haste towards the stables as I entered the great hall," Ivar said, hoisting himself into a chair.
Before she could feel any kind of way, the beads parted. "I'm here, Bonnie."
Ubbe entered the area, followed by Hvitserk. He held out a hand to her, and she crossed the room. On her way to him she gave Ivar the narrowed eye stare she reserved for all shit starters and agitators. His shoulders rose and fell as he returned her look with one that could be easily translated into a verbal, I said what I said.
"What's going on, Ubbe?" She questioned him under her breath.
He gave her a pointed stare, and then cleared his throat. "Bonnie, will you accept my courtship?"
"That's it?" She blinked. "Not even a slap to the face with a bouquet of handpicked wildflowers?"
"Valkyrie," he muttered.
"Oh alright," she whispered back, pushing down her disappointment by his lackluster court proposal. Even Mikael's courtship offer forced her heart to take a second look and he was freaking Mikael Mikaelson. The worst father to ever don the title. She glanced at Bjorn, who watched them like must see TV. "As my protector, what are your thoughts on me entering a courtship with Ubbe?"
"Yes it is true I am your protector. Yet, you're a free woman. In this my thoughts are meaningless. The decision is yours," Bjorn said as smugness radiated from him in waves.
Yes he said the decision belonged to her but he expected her not to choose his brother. Especially after she repeatedly denied him. She saw it all in his arrogant demeanor. Funny thing is, he didn't know she'd already made the choice to be Ubbe's. Oh! The penny soared into the air. Her eyes recaptured Ubbe who watched her with that tempered calmness. The penny dropped. Ooh! The beautiful, brilliant mastermind! Somehow through a series of calculated missteps he'd managed to lull Bjorn into a false sense of complacency and delivered exactly what she wanted. A conflict free courtship.
Unable to resist him any longer, she slipped her arms around his neck. "Yes, Ubbe Lothbrok of Kattegat. I, Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls, accept your courtship."
"My gratitude is yours," he whispered as his arms encircled her waist and lifted her. Once they were face to face, he leaned in and devoured her mouth with leisurely tongue plunging kisses. When he'd had his fill of her lips, he peppered pecks over her jaw line. "Along with my heart, my bewitching Valkyrie."
"So, this is your decision?" Bjorn questioned, pausing only long enough to unfold his long body from his seat. Once standing, he continued. His words departed from his lips, deliberate and precise. "To accept Ubbe's offer. An offer which may even lead to marriage?"
Bonnie tapped Ubbe on the shoulder and he placed her back on her feet. She then turned to face Bjorn. "Yes, I accept Ubbe's offer no matter the end result."
"Come," Bjorn grabbed her hand and led her further into the queen's quarters until they reached the sleeping chamber. Once there, he released her and began to pace. "When I offered to make you my second wife you denied me. You even led me to believe there to still be another in your land who holds your heart. Is this no longer the case?"
She didn't know. She honestly didn't know. In her land and time, she would've sworn on a stack of Grimoires Niklaus Mikaelson's love rose and set in her heart. Hell, she'd taken a blade to the chest in honor of their love but being thrown back over a thousand years in the past shifted perspectives and blurred lines. Making everything they'd shared subject to ridicule and second thoughts.
"I don't know," she answered, while watching him wear out the plank floors. "Being here in Kattegat with you and your brothers, confuses me." Taking a perch on the edge of the bed, she stared at thin air willing for an answer for her own benefit, not just Bjorn's. "In my mind, I know I came back here for him, it's just my heart refuses to remember why. Perhaps it's time I relinquish the past so I may honor the present and be committed to forging a better future." Maybe this is how the Hallow is stopped.
"With Ubbe?" He stopped pacing and whirled on her. Kneeling next to the bed, his hands closed around hers as their eyes held. "Why? Why will you have him and not me?"
"You know why," she rested her forehead on his. "You're married already, Bjorn and I'll never tolerate being anyone's second wife."
"What if I divor-," she placed a finger over his lips.
"If you say it then I'll never again respect you."
He removed her finger and kissed her palm. "What of our oath? If you marry-,"
"Nothing comes before our sacred oath, Bjorn." She tugged on his beard. "Not even marriage vows will get between what we've sworn to each other. I'll be by your side for as long as you want me there."
Bonnie sat in the center of her bed going through the photo log on her phone of pictures of she and Klaus. Yeah, she knew the type of damage to time having a cell phone in the Viking era could do. However, she needed to see proof of the love they shared so she could understand her diminished emotions now. In the pictures they appeared so in love. So happy. Hell, she even remembered feeling those things and the relief loving him brought. Especially, after…
Her breath caught. An ocean of heartache filled her eyes before the first wave of pain crashed. It was a picture of her and Enzo in Paris she'd never seen. They were engaged in an embrace in front of the Eifel Tower. Her back was to the camera. While Enzo, who faced in the direction of the photographer, held an open ring box. A platinum princess cut engagement ring was nestled inside. A clever smile curved his mouth even as a finger rested upon his lips in an attempt to shush the photo snapper into keeping his secret. Her heart stumbled in her chest. He was going to propose.
"How have you come to have that here?" Floki's wiggling fingers steepled in front of him as he stared down at the out of time cellphone.
She exited out of her photos and sent the phone back to her nightstand in the 21st century. Rubbing away her tears with the hills of her hands, she eyed Floki. How in the hell did he get in? She could've sworn she'd erected a barrier spell to give her some time to herself. For some reason, her barrier spells never seemed to work against Ivar and now it appeared Floki.
"Apparently, I now can move things through space and time," She said, pulling her knees to her chest.
Floki's eyes flared. "Just things, not people?"
"No, just inanimate objects," she said, resting her chin on her knees. "Why're you here and how'd you get through my spell?"
"Please," he waved her off and sat on the foot of her mattress, "Now that you have your love entanglements neatly tangled it's time you begin mastering your sorcery, don't you think?"
"Past time," she admitted. Ragnar would be back sometime that spring and if she knew her Vikings, that's when the shit really hit the fan and flew everywhere. "If I'm to be ready for what's to come, then yes I'd better shift my focus. Beginning with finding out what Ayanna knows."
Floki's brows scrunched together. "As in Bennett?"
"How's that for coincidence?" Bonnie arched a brow. "First Klaus' stepfather makes an appearance and now my great grandmother to the thirty-fifth power makes a cameo. With odds like these damn the Viking era I should be in Vegas."
He nodded his agreement. "This black sucking abyss you spoke of, how does it thrive?"
"The Hollow," just the very mention of the entity's name provoked a firestorm of energy to whip through her veins. "But before being known as the Hollow she was Inadu. A powerful witch from a Native American coven who was born sometime around 500 AD. Prior to her birth, the elders of the tribe sensed she would be powerful. So, for whatever reason they thought it would be a good idea to give her more power while in the womb."
"All-father, I believe Sheila may have covered this in one of her lectures," Floki said, turning towards her with a raised finger. "I remember because she borrowed some of my research on the indigenous tribes of Louisiana. There was even a family whose ancestors could be traced back to one of the earlier tribes. Labonair I believe was the name."
"Makes sense," Bonnie nodded already aware of the connection. "The Labonairs are descendants of that thing. Wonder if Grams interest in the subject was strictly academic." She dropped her gaze to the furs on the mattress. Here she was thinking she had a millennium to prepare for this bitch only to realize she was three hundred plus years in the hole. "I'm gonna visit Ayanna tomorrow after first meal. I'm done putting this off."
"Just as well," Floki rose from the mattress. "I've always been curious about that particular Bennett Witch. They say she foresaw the fall and rise of Africa."
A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth as she stood as well. "You mean the rise and fall?"
"No, I spoke without error the first time," he said, followed by his signature high pitched giggle. He cut an eye over his shoulder. "Do believe you have a role in that as well, the rise part of course."
"Of course." All Bonnie could do was shake her head. She had a feeling her next thousand years were gonna be kind of busy.
"Yes, well what of Margrethe?" Hvitserk questioned from next to him at the great table. "Tell me you're going to miss her," his eyes swept from left to right, before he lowered his voice, "and the…liberties she permits us to take. Bonnie is rare, but is she worth denying specific appetites?"
Ubbe watched Margrethe weave her way through the revelers. The way her slim hips swayed from east to west as she went about her duties always provoked his prick to rise. Even now his man stand thrust and jerked for freedom from his trousers. There was something so appealing in how she submitted to his every urge and notion. The way she allowed him absolute control over her. And it wasn't because she was his family's slave, no. It was because she trusted him. The very emotion polished her blue eyes to a brilliance which rivaled the morning sun. Hvitserk was correct to assume he'd miss Margrethe. Yet perhaps he didn't have to halt relations with her. Why couldn't he have a wife and a bed slave? Was he not Viking?
"Good riddance to Margrethe I'd say, were it I courting Bonnie," Sigurd said, slamming down his golden chalice. "Even for a slave she barely washes and the last time I took her I had to soak for nearly two turns of the sands glass to rid myself of a rancid fish odor."
"Ah, Sigurd," Ivar said, from his place at Hvitserk's other side. "Are you using a little smell as an excuse to flee the vagina? All kuntas have the stench of the sea it's no reason not to do your duty as a man."
"What'd you know, Boneless?" Sigurd sneered, settling back to glare at Ivar from his place across the table. "Aside from mother's you've never even placed your hand upon one. And not all women's sheaths smell of the sea," a smirk twisted his mouth, "at least not Bonnie's."
Hvitserk scoffed. "You've scented Bonnie's muff?"
Sigurd nodded. "The day in the water. When she wrapped her body about mine and pressed her bald kuntas in my face."
Ubbe straightened and leaned forward in his seat to consider his younger brother. He knew the look of them when they spouted falsehoods. Although, Sigurd, was smug he still appeared to be truthful.
"What did it smell of?" Ivar questioned, his unblinking stare trained on Sigurd.
Sigurd moved in closer and rested his arms on the table. "It smelled flowered, but there was also another scent. A faint wild musk that made me want to place my tongue, fingers, and prick in it."
Hvitserk reached down and readjusted his cock. "Will you share her as well?" He asked in a lowered tone meant only for Ubbe's ears.
Would he? He didn't know. He'd always done so in the past. Watching Hvitserk relinquish control and savagely plow a woman brought him unimaginable gratification. He nearly misplaced his seed just thinking about some of their previous doings. Yet, Bonnie was different and although she'd claimed to have known a man's touch he didn't believe her for an instance. His fingers knew the impossible clench of her woman's sheath. Which had carried him to the conclusion, she had yet to learn the plunge of a man's prick.
"Not right away," he began, "Bjorn's correct in his assumption. Bonnie's still in possession of her maidenhead."
Hvitserk turned to eye him full on. Disbelief cavorted within his gaze. "But she doesn't behave as a virgin."
"We know not the way of her land," Ubbe shrugged.
"Perhaps Mystic Falls lie within the realms of Asgard for she appears more goddess than woman at the moment," Hvitserk said, peering pass him to the entrance of the hall.
There cloaked in a floor length hooded golden fur stood his bewitching Valkyrie. Her thick mass of dark curls were bound on top of her head. Wisps of tiny gilt buds were interwoven throughout her tresses, even as a gold laurel adorned the side of her head. Gold even shimmered at the corners of her eyes enhancing her complexion until her skin appeared a gilded bronze shrouded in a golden glow crafted by the gods. The sight of her locked his breath within his body. And he wasn't the only one transfixed by the mere glimpse of her. The feast had come to a standstill and there wasn't one eye not trained on the entrance of the great hall.
Bonnie pulled her Russian sable coat tighter together, feeling a little self-conscious from all of the stares. Since this would be the last night of the feast she'd decided to put a little more effort in her wardrobe choice. So, she'd popped over a few things Klaus had given her but never worn. The items were so extravagant she never imagined she'd actually wear them. Especially, the coat, because when did it ever get that damn cold in New Orleans.
"Don't you look like a woman out of time," Floki said, with a frozen smile on his face. "Let me take your coat before you provoke the shield maidens any further." He removed the sable from her body. Gasps and sharp intakes of breaths went up around the hall. "Perhaps I should put it back on."
The over excessiveness of extraness flowing throughout the hall provoked Bonnie's eyes to roll. By their reactions to her dress, you'd think she pulled a Cookie Lyons on them. When in inexplicable truth, she was draped from shoulders to floor in clothing. The dress was actually kind of elegant. It was one of Klaus' better fashion moments when it came to choosing acceptable dresses for her. In fact, this gown was indeed her favorite.
A backless gold sheath illusion evening gown. Since the chiffon lace was strategically placed throughout the strips of tulle and her skin tone practically blended in with the fabric it gave the impression of showing more than it actually did. Klaus referred to the night-out attire as the frock with the threads of a thousand deceptions. A smile touched her lips at the thought of him. Even if the love hadn't been as great as she believed it to be, he would always be her best friend. Her family. A work of complicated art who often found beauty in the most unassuming things.
"Bonnie your dress is stunning, and you are beautiful in it," Helga said, moving around Floki to give her a hug.
Floki's face folded in a slight scold. "You shouldn't encourage her, Helga."
A grin curved her lips, even as her eyes rolled. "Thank you, Helga. You look amazing as always."
"Did you fashion this dress as well, Bonnie?" Torvi questioned, moving around her and gently fingering the silk and inspecting the lace. "Oh, please say you'll fashion me one as well."
"Of course, Torvi," Bonnie smiled, before casting her gaze to Bjorn who stood back raking a displeased but fascinated gaze over the gown. "Good eve, Bjorn."
"Mystical One," he replied, stepping closer to join their little group. "Your garb is quite…informative."
"Thank you," she said, deciding to use his shade to maintain her chill. "You're looking rather illuminating your damn self."
"Goddess," A palm clasped her elbow. She turned to find the last person she'd expected.
"Ansel," she said, falling into a pair of blue eyes that were more familiar to her than her own. "I didn't expect..." she leaned forward and lowered her voice, "is everything okay?"
"Jarl Fenrirssen," Bjorn clasped arms with him, "I'm pleased you've come to celebrate the final night of the harvest feast. I look forward to hearing of your travels to the Orient. It's been quite some time since I've spoken with anyone who's sailed that far east."
"No, those lands have already been seen and plundered," Ansel said, giving his head a firm shake. "I want to hear of your raids in England and Frankia. Now those are stories worthy of Kattegat's great hall."
"Are you two familiar?" Torvi questioned, staring at where Ansel's hand still rested on her elbow.
"No," He released her elbow, "But I very much would like to become acquainted. I've heard many things about you since my return, Goddess."
"Please, call me Bonnie," she said, offering her hand to him. "And I hope the things you been hearing are favorable."
"Only if it's true that you remain unattached," Ansel dipped his head and place a kiss on her pulse point at her inner wrist.
A hand reached out and removed hers from his. "As of earlier this rising that would be false." Ubbe guided her to his side and leaned down to place a kiss on her bare shoulder. "If our trial marriage goes well, we'll wed and enter into legal matrimony the first day of Frigg after she returns from the Mediterranean with Bjorn."
Now wait a damn minute. Trial marriage? They were just courting. That was like dating, right? Bonnie snapped her neck to look at Ubbe who watched Ansel with a serial killer stare. She then looked to Bjorn and the smug asshole actually had the nerve to smirk. Floki only shrugged.
"Many apologies, Ubbe, Bonnie," Ansel glanced at Bonnie, and then moved his gaze back to Ubbe, "I hadn't heard. May, the gods bless your joining."
Ubbe nodded, not in the least interested in his apologies or well wishes.
"Thank you," she said, managing a smile, before Ubbe guided her away from the gathering. She waited until they were out of hearing distance of the group and went in. "Why'd you tell him we're in a trial marriage? We're just courting."
"Courting is a trial marriage to see if we're compatible. I didn't speak out in error, Bonnie," Ubbe said, steering them through a group of slurring well-wishers. They both nodded their gratitude but kept it moving. "I assumed you were aware since it was you who suggested we do so."
"I'm sorry, in my land courting doesn't mean quite the same thing-," she began.
"Bonnie, you are so alluring," Mikael Mikaelson stood directly in their path to the throne. "I'm captivated by you. You haven't been out of my thoughts since last we met. Please reconsider my offer. I'll provide you with a life of which to be proud. A keep full of strong sons to carry on our name. We can even have a couple of girls to help you around the great house while our sons and I raid and trade as well." His sapphire blue gaze bore into hers. At this point, he had yet to spare Ubbe even a glimpse.
Beyond disturbed and appalled by Mikael's declaration, Bonnie paid no attention to the punishing grip Ubbe had around her waist. Ester needed to hurry the hell up and step into her position, because she was not the damn one! "M-Mikael, I'm sorry. Ubbe and I are getting married this summer. We made it official this morning."
Ubbe's grip on her relaxed as he stared down at her with a cocked brow. For the first time since he approached, Mikael's stare drifted to Ubbe. "Ubbe, my apologies. I didn't realize-,"
"No need for contrition," Ubbe waved, him off. "Who better understands how enchanting my betrothed is than I? Please, enjoy the rest of the feast." With that, Ubbe moved them around him and continued to the throne on which Queen Aslaug sat. "This eve I intend to feast until the next rising on what is concealed or not concealed in that dress," he whispered before pushing her in front of his mother.
Bonnie managed to keep her expression neutral as she greeted the queen. "Queen Aslaug, how are you this eve?"
"I'm well," she laughed, while clasping her hands together. "Oh, Bonnie! Your gown is spellbinding. I believe I wore its likeness the rising I met Ragnar." She cut her gaze over to the great table, and then recaptured Bonnie's stare as a sly grin dimpled her cheek. "Ivar's been unable to take his eyes off of you."
Bonnie chanced a glimpse and caught him watching her with an intensity that rocked her ever ticking clock. She forced herself to look away. "I'm surprised, he told me to keep my distance."
"Ivar is clever, at times even loving, but above all complicated. His life is a series of moves in his mind. Sometimes he becomes so ensnared with winning the match in his head he forgets that the pieces he's decided to sacrifice or trade away in life are more important than a temporary triumph in thought," Queen Aslaug said, while attempting to convey something more with her eyes. "You will love him without restraint, and he will break you. The agony will be unbearable, and you'll suffer." The queen took her hand. "You'll suffer until you understand that without forgiveness, there will be no relief."
They stared at each other for a moment. Neither said anything, yet their silence said it all. Why would anyone ever want to play the game? Especially, when they knew the deck was stacked in another's favor?
"Bonnie, come to me," Ubbe called to her from his place at the great table. With pleasure flossing up his face and amusement blazing in the depths of his eyes, he held out a hand to her.
"Go," the Queen nodded her head in his direction. "Ubbe is quite taken with you. Be careful with my eldest, he's more passionate than he'd have most believe."
Queen Aslaug inclined her head in a bow of sorts and Bonnie did the same. Once she descended the stairs leading up to the throne, she crossed the Hall to the great table. When she made it over to Ubbe, she attempted to sit in the empty seat between him and Ivar. He had other ideas, and instead lifted her onto his lap. Before she could protest, his arms wound around her waist, tugging her closer to the hard press of his chest. He then leaned down and shoved his tongue into her mouth. A lewd cheer went up and pounding rocked the table. As pissed as she was over the way he handled her, she found herself overwhelmed and undone by his kiss. By the time he'd had his fill of her mouth, she had several solar systems of constellations orbiting in her universe.
Ubbe stared at her through half closed lids, heavy from ale and lust. "I mean to have you this eve, Valkyrie."
"I mean to let you have me this eve, Viking," she said, staring him right in the pupils and straight facing the hell out of him. It had been a minute and Ubbe had always crunk her inner fan girl.
A smile radiated from his eyes even as his lips remained in a firm unmoving line. "I've never wanted anything more than I want you as my wife. I swear on my arm ring to provide you with a life we both will treasure."
"Yeah?" She tooted her lip ready to dial up bullshit. "Aren't you the same Lothbrok brother who said, though you wanted to plow me you wouldn't offer for me, or anyone?"
"That's when I believed you'd wait for my offer," he said settling back in his seat to consider her. "Then Earl Mikaelson's son announced his intention and Bjorn cloaked you under the protection of the Lothbrok name before all of Kattegat. Now eligible Earls, Jarls, and first sons from most of Kattegat's outposts are arriving to offer Bjorn a bride price for you."
Her face dropped. "What, why? Your people marry for familial alliances and land, of which I have neither. And I'm a foreigner."
"Any warrior who marries you will gain a stronger alliance to my family. This is enough to coerce an offer from any one of Norway's many kings," Ivar said, raising a chalice to them.
"So, the only reason you wanna marry me is to stop someone else from beating you to the jump?" She shook her head, hoping to shake loose some understanding. "I'm not sure how I feel about that, Ubbe."
"You misunderstand. I'm marrying you because it's in my heart to do so," he explained without even a ripple of emotion, "I offered for you now to prevent another from pilfering away what would be mine."
He reached up and grasped her neck in loose hold. Without an utterance of consent on her part he once again pressed his mouth to hers. This time his kiss was possessive, branding, and all consuming. Instead of the flames smoldering to nothing more than smoking ash, the blaze intensified. To the point she felt as if she'd be burned alive if she didn't submit. Yet, giving in didn't reside in her bloodline. She'd been the anchor once, so her tolerance for the unmentionable was on ten.
Bonnie permitted her magic free reign. From explicit visions of them entangled in one position or the other to deliciously torturous phantom sensations one experience during their build to the end, she infused it all in their kiss. Pushing and giving until she had him panting in a puddle of his own need.
When he broke their kiss fascination sparked his sky blues. "I saw…those visions…did you?"
Leaning forward she placed her mouth next to his ear. "That's not even half of what I wanna do to you," she whispered.
Ubbe's eyes bucked, and his expression lost its complacency. His gaze skipped to Hvitserk, who watched her with a stalker like focus. "We're seeking our leave." He plopped Bonnie on her feet and stood so quick you would've thought he was an Original.
"Have a good eve, everyone!" She said with a smile so innocent one would've thought her a lamb off to the slaughter.
"Mikael has informed me of your intent to marry," Bjorn appeared before them as if thin air had given birth to him.
Ubbe managed to stumble to a stop before running into him. He forced a smile, while gripping her hand tighter. "Yes, we informed you this morn."
"No, brother," Bjorn's gaze left Ubbe to creep over her. "You spoke of courting her with the possibility of marriage. Nothing along the lines of matrimony was agreed upon. Now that it has been decided, contracts have to be settled, bride prices discussed, doweries negotiated, and proper consent given to legitimize the marriage."
"Of course, we'll begin the formalities next rising. For now, we've grown weary and wish to retreat for the eve," Ubbe moved to step around him, but Bjorn placed a hand on his chest and stopped him.
"Of course," Bjorn said, but still made no move to slide out of their way. "And while you rest well, I'll escort Bonnie safely back to her keep."
"There's no need for you to escort Bonnie. I'll be returning to her keep with her," Ubbe said as tension seeped back into his neck and shoulders.
"Not this eve or any other eve before the matrimonial contracts are settled, Brother. Bonnie is a maiden. Her virtue must be preserved until debatable intentions have been legally bound," Bjorn stated.
Some of the defensiveness faded from Ubbe's posture. "Brother, please. You know I'll honor my offer of marri-,"
"It is the way of our people. You know this," Bjorn cut in with a raised hand, his arrogance donning him better than his battle armor ever could. "I have no doubt of your word, yet my faith lies in the All-Father and I believe it is not your fate to marry Bonnie. To couple with her without the gods given claim will be a grave insult for who she was truly fated. An insult that will be made to be answered in blood."
Damn the pull up was legit and Ubbe should've been coughing up a damn lung from all that smoke Bjorn was blowing. To keep whatever, they called themselves doing at a minimum, Bonnie ducked out of Ubbe's side embrace and stepped in between them. She should've known better than to think Bjorn would be okay with any of this.
"He's right, if we're gonna do this, then we need to respect your people's traditions," she said attempting to ignore the heat penetrating the back of her head. "Mainly, with me being an outsider an all. I'll never gain there acceptance by disrespecting there rituals and beliefs."
"Acceptance?" Disbelief stretched Ubbe's eyes wide. "You have their love! Their offerings to you grows with every rising."
Her gaze dropped to the floor to avoid seeing her own frustration reflected back at her from Ubbe's eyes. "Either way, this is how it has to be."
"Well, then I'll bid you a good eve," With that said Ubbe spun on his heel and stalked out of the hall.
Bonnie turned to glare up at Bjorn. "Happy?"
"Exceedingly so," Bjorn said as pleasure lit his eyes. "Gather your cloak and I'll see you to your keep. Your garb has provoked enough blood feuds and inspired quite a few sagas for one eve would you not say?"
The slightest graze against Bonnie's cheek snatched her from the restful comfort of unawareness to the chilling truth of reality. Someone other than Wilbur was in her home. How was that possible? Why wasn't her barrier spells working? She forced her eyes to open and was met by a set of shocking blue ones. Ivar.
She shot up in a sitting position, glaring at the one Lothbrok brother who got off on playing her like a yo-yo. "What the hell are you doing here, Ivar? And how do you keep getting in?"
"You don't love Ubbe, yet you desire him," his gaze scoured her face as he appeared to ponder his thoughts aloud. "Your heart belongs to me, but you don't long for my touch as you do Ubbe, why?" Is it because I'm a-,"
"Oh, my fucking goddess! You're not a cripple and I don't see you as one either," she growled out her frustration through the slits of her teeth. "Your right, Ubbe does it for me and when he comes around, yes the juice is loose, but your wrong if you believe I don't ever think about you putting your hands all over me. However, to want that from you right now is not good." With a firm shake of the head she reiterated the words. "It's not good at all."
He said with a straight face. "I was going to ask, is it because I'm the younger brother?"
She watched him through narrowed eyes for a moment. When laughter obliterated his serious expression, she slapped him in the face with a feather pillow. "Oh, what an asshole you are, Ivar Lothbrok!"
Using what felt like superhuman upper body strength, he snatched her in his arms, and they began to tussle. For the next several minutes a, no hold body slams, wrestling match between the two ensued until she finally had no other choice but to tap out. After, they lay in silence staring up at the ceiling of the keep while she caught her breath. During the sea of quietness, they both seemed to give themselves over to their thoughts.
"I don't understand. Why wouldn't it be a good thing to want me to plow you?" He decimated their joined peace for the benefit of an answer.
She sighed, and then swiveled her head to the side to look at him. "Because you're too young for me to think of in that way. You're what…sixteen?"
"I reached my seventeenth summer, the summer pass," he said with an, bitch you on one, attitude, "Asides, I wager you haven't even claimed your sixteenth summer, you have yet to sprout hair between your thighs."
"For your information, I'm eighteen years old!" And then some she added silently. "As for what's between my legs, never you damn mind. And why the hell are you here anyway, didn't you just tell me this morning to keep my distance?"
"Lay with me." He tugged her until she was sprawled on his chest and wrapped tight in his arms. Instead of putting up a struggle, she burrowed deeper into his arms submerging herself in the level of strength and security his hold afforded her. At some point she began to doze. "I would like for you to one day look upon me as you do Ubbe. Only then will I know you are truly mine." Those were the last words she heard before the Sandman claimed her conscious mind.