"The air," Sigurd panted from her side as they trudged through a particular dense patch of underbrush. "It's becoming heavier, almost too heavy to breathe."
Bonnie placed a hand on Sigurd's back, allowing her magic to cloak him with a barrier spell. Once erected, he exhaled his relief. "Spells and curses are at work. The deeper we go the stronger they become. Your good now, though. I've placed a protection spell on you."
"Have I not spoken to you of addressing offensive sorcery?" Floki questioned from ahead of them, while swiping errant bushes and branches from their path. "Doing so only calls into question your authority, leaving an opening for any usurper who think themselves powerful enough to challenge your rule."
"This sorcery is not offensive it's Bennett magic, and although I'm now the supreme of my line, I respect the queens who came before me, even Qetsiyah." Bonnie swiped at a few twigs Floki missed. "It's how grams raised me."
"Then I stand corrected," Floki said, stepping into the clearing that Ayanna's shack sat upon.
"As you should, Immortal," Ayanna said, stepping from behind the cloth barrier hanging over the entrance of her keep. "Why have you come here with a son of Ragnar and one of the biggest mistakes of our family line?"
"Is she your kin?" Sigurd asked, looking from Bonnie to Ayanna and back.
Bonnie nodded once, "Yeah, something like that."
"What'd you mean one of the biggest mistakes?" Floki straightened his posture and pulled back his shoulders. "Bonnie's a product of that mistake and she's the greatest defender we have against what's to come."
Ayanna lifted her chin, while folding her arms across her chest. "And what do you know of what's to come?"
"Not nearly what we should," Bonnie stepped from the sidelines to stand in the sparking zone. "That's why we're here. I need to know what you learned from the discernment spell you cast on me."
One of Ayanna's shoulders rose and fell. "Nothing much I haven't heard spoken afore. There, however, was a few unforeseen insights which should be explored." She cast her gaze around the forest. "Come, there are eyes and ears on the wind, in the trees. We'll speak more inside." With that she turned and walked into the keep.
They followed her in and gathered in the small front room. She waved at a stone bench and two wooden chairs. Bonnie took one of the wooden chairs, Floki took the bench and Sigurd sat across from her in the other chair. She glanced around at the bare walls and floors. The keep look more like a prison cell than a home. It's a wonder she didn't freeze to death in the winter. She'd have to bring some things back to help her through the colder months.
"Ansel told me he came upon you over a fortnight ago," Ayanna said, adding wood to the hearth. "Said that you communed with the spirits, and they ordained you supreme of our entire familial line." She turned to stare at Bonnie, her brow arched and her expression disbelieving. "And they bowed before you, even Qetsiyah?"
"Yes," Bonnie nodded. "Even Qetsiyah."
"Although impressive, she's not just supreme of the Bennett line," Floki said.
Confusion wrinkled Ayanna's brow. "The Bennett line? What is this Bennett line you speak of, Immortal?"
"That's the name you'll give our family when you make it to the new world," Bonnie answered, without putting much thought into censoring herself for Sigurd's benefit. His gaze snapped to hers and fifty-eleven questions danced within his eyes. "I'll explain everything to you once we make it back to Kattegat. You have my word." He nodded and relaxed a bit.
"Humph, I see you've already decided on your enforcer/confessor." Ayanna walked over to Sigurd and placed her hand over his heart. Surprise flared her eyes wide as a small smile captured her lips. "You've chosen well. This one will lie, kill, and die for you a thousand times if given a thousand lives. Does he nourish you as well?"
"Excuse me?" Bonnie asked, just knowing Ayanna wasn't asking if Sigurd was her juice box.
Floki waved off Ayanna as if she'd asked a dumb ass question. "Of course, he is how else would she have managed otherwise?"
"As I always have," Bonnie snapped, swinging her glare from Floki to Ayanna. "I'm not a damn vampire who needs a blood bag every two minutes to get by. In fact, I don't even crave it."
"Yet, your aura seems more vibrant sense last we met," Ayanna said, eyeing the area around her. "You've fed recently."
"Bonnie you must nourish yourself in order to realize the full extent of your powers," Floki scolded. "Why do you think I keep Helga around?"
"Because you love her," Bonnie answered.
"Yes I love her now, but that wasn't always the case," Floki said, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees as he regarded her. "Love came in time, but sustenance came first."
"The boy will be more than sustenance to her. Their bond will be synergistic in nature," Ayanna stated moving away from Sigurd to cross over to Floki. "He'll offer up himself and she will give unto him. This will brand their bond with the eternity blood knot once he forsakes what he's always known for her."
Sigurd studied Bonnie for a moment, his face devoid of all emotion. "I will and I do."
"Sigurd, don't say that," Bonnie shook her head at him. "I don't even know what this title will ask of you."
"The eternity blood knot? To utilize such a knot as a brand, she'd have to be able to create an immortal with her blood alone," Floki moved to the edge of the bench.
Ayanna raised a finger, "Not alone, not until she and her mate are joined. For now, to turn a supernatural immortal she'll need to locate nature's most powerful but foolish mistake."
"Doppelgängers," Bonnie, Ayanna, and Floki said in unison.
Bonnie tilted her head to the side. "Let me get this right, the immortal witch spell has given me the power to turn anyone into an immortal?"
"Only those under your dominion," Ayanna corrected.
Bonnie glanced at Floki for clarification.
"She means supernaturals," Floki mansplained.
Her eyes rolled to meet the ceiling. "I know, Floki, but what of the dormant supernaturals. The ones who carries sorcery in their blood and yet they have no active way of utilizing the energy." She allowed her gaze to fall on Sigurd.
"They belong to you as well and so too can be remade," Ayanna said, taking a seat on the opposite end of the stone bench on which Floki sat. "You also have the authority to awaken the dormant energy within them once they're immortal. If I were you, I'd thank the mother of all for such a gift. They are warriors you'll need for the enemy who lies in wait plotting your downfall. For even in death her legion of followers grow."
The temperature of her sorcery skyrocketed in her veins. Searing the inner lining of her vessels as if she had molten lava shooting through her arteries. "The Hollow!"
"Ragnarök!" Floki uttered at the same time.
"Ragnarök?" Sigurd questioned, his disturbed gaze darting over every occupant in the room.
"You wanted to know why the spell brought you back here?" Ayanna nodded toward Sigurd. "You're here for them. The sons of Ragnar are the stone which may very well tip the scales in the favor of whom they should decide to swear their allegiance. And do not think claiming their pledge will be a small fete. For there is another immortal who's been planting seeds since the beginning and now means to reap." She paused to give them all pointed stares. "He goes by many names and twice as many faces. Some know him as the All-Father, while others refer to him as-,"
"Odin," Floki and Sigurd said in unison.
Bonnie nearly left her seat. "There god is an immortal?"
"One of the oldest," Ayanna shrugged, like she didn't just rock the very foundation of what they all assumed stood rock solid. "It's been spoken he was the second most powerful witch to ever live."
"What of Valhalla?" Sigurd question, looking as if someone were about to tell him the North Pole was just the ass crack of winter and not the magical place Santa lived.
"You mean the Otherside he created for his supernatural warriors?" Ayanna asked, giving zero fucks that her revelations were blasting holes in someone else's faith and religion. "Believe me not? His anchor resides just there in Kattegat. The kingdom of his most favored descendant."
The penny soared high into the stratosphere. Bonnie cast her gaze to the unseen in an attempt to visualize what she'd somehow missed. A sea a visions rushed her third eye like an endless reel of YouTube edits. The penny plummeted back to the ground. "The Seer."
"So, now I'm to wage war on two different fronts?" Bonnie couldn't understand how she always found herself in those predicaments. This time she couldn't even blame the Mystic Falls squad. No this was a situation of her own making.
"Not if you can get Odin to align with you," Floki said, coming out of his trance to help shovel her out of the shit in which she'd found herself. "If you're able to gain his allegiance, you'll have use of the many warriors who awaits the final battle in Valhalla."
"And why would he? Here we are in the fourth quarter and here I come off the bench about to win his game," Bonnie shook her head. "I don't see it happening."
"Oh, he'll be obliged if you agreed to offer him the place at your side," Ayanna eyed her with a knowing look. "Make him the other half of the prophecy."
"Impossible, I'm not spending my eternity with an immortal I've never met," Bonnie flapped a hand to wave off the idea. "Besides, Ubbe and I are to be married when I return from the Mediterranean Sea. He'll look good fulfilling the prophecy."
Floki's eyes rolled, Sigurd just stared at his feet refusing to make eye contact with anyone, and Ayanna deteriorated into body jerks of laughter.
Exhaling her irritation, her gaze darted from Floki to Ayanna. "What else is there to do other than prostituting myself out for an army?"
This cut Ayanna's laughter to nothing, Floki's cheeks developed a tinge of red, and Sigurd still remained detached. Her gaze fixed on him. She could relate with the shit storm she imagined blowing at a category five in his head. Discovering the shades of gray in the world you always believed to be black and white could do damage on a fundamental level. She would know, she was seventeen when grams flipped her world. In one drunken heart to heart not only did she discover magic was real, but she also learned of her witch heritage. Talk about an overdue conversation with her therapist.
"Then you'll have to do what he's done," Sigurd said without withdrawing his gaze from the floor. "You'll have to elevate yourself before the people's eyes. As my father did, as my mother's father did. Perform acts ordinary men cannot achieve. Not anything blatant that will terrify, but deeds which will separate you as divine. And once you have them, if you expect them to forsake Valhalla, you have to give them in return something as equally as great in measure."
Why did fate always come off as one big coincidence? "There's a place. I created it several years ago for my boyfriend after he was killed. But those events won't occur for hundreds of years."
"It matters not," Ayanna stated, with a shake of the head. "The Otherside exists outside the bounds of reality. If you created such a place, then it will exist as if it has always been there despite the time which it was conceived into corporeality."
"And what if it doesn't live up to their Valhalla? Truth is, I don't even know what the hell it looks like over there. It could be where broken hearts go when they can't find their way home for all I know!" She snapped. Damn, did she really just bring Queen Whitney into this? Wow, she was so fucking stressed.
"Simply think what you want, and so it shall be," Ayanna said dismissively like her words had granted Bonnie the meaning to all.
Keeping her frustration in check, she decided to search out her leave. "We should be going. Ubbe is to discuss our marriage contract with Bjorn today. I'd like to be present for the discussions."
"Go if you must," Ayanna waved yet another dismissive hand. "But come again on the morrow. The immortal and I should begin instructing you on wielding your sorcery. And if my third eye is to be trusted you should learn how to wield a battle ax and other such barbaric weaponry."
Bonnie nodded not bothering to tell Ayanna that she knew her way around just about every weapon known to man. She'd acquired and retained Rayna's skills as a vampire huntress when she'd inherited her lifespan. From increased speed, massive strength, to a mix martial arts street fighting style, she held an advantage her opponent would never see coming. And that's only if she was of a mind to physically engage. Yet, who knew what the future held when fate chose to remain unseen to one's second sight. She waited until Floki and Sigurd exited the keep to question Ayanna about something which she still couldn't force her mind around.
Ayanna flicked an assessing stare over her as she peeped to make sure her companions didn't turn back when they realized she'd lingered. Once satisfied, she centered her attention on her foremother. "When I invoked this spell in my time I was-," she broke off to clear her throat, "I was twenty-seven years old." Confusion crumpled Ayanna's features. Bonnie tried again. "I'd seen twenty-seven summers." Ayanna's gaze flared in understanding. "But now I'm back here looking like I did when I'd only seen eighteen! And to make matters worse, I'm in possession of something I haven't claimed since my nineteenth summer. Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?"
Ayanna regarded her as if her hollow headedness had been confirmed by an echo bouncing off the walls of her mind. "This is the nature of the spell you invoked. It returns you to the state of when your sorcery crested the pinnacle of its potency. If you were in possession of your maidenhead at the time…," she shrugged a non-verbal, I don't know what to tell you.
"So you mean to tell me I have to do eighteen all over again?" Bonnie growled as she dropped her face in her palm.
"I mean to tell you that you'll have the look of one who's only seen eighteen summers for an eternity," Ayanna clarified.
Bjorn stood within the great hall of Kattegat. His gaze drifted over Queen Aslaug who sat perched on her throne as if it were her gods given right to rule, then to Hvitserk who stood huddled to the side with the slave girl he'd gifted them with from his last raid, moving on to Ivar who watched him in return from his seat on his father's throne, and finally settling upon Ubbe who sat in one of the favored seats near the throne. Torvi stood next to him, rubbing her protruding belly looking as if she wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Bjorn, I understand you're here to decide upon a marriage contract between Ubbe and Bonnie," Queen Aslaug said, her mouth twisting just so over the coupling of Ubbe's and Bonnie's names.
Ubbe straightened in his seat. "Which will have to be postponed since Bonnie must've been delayed."
"If you wish this marriage to go forth then we'll come to an agreement now." Bonnie's absence was an advantage he indeed planned to extort. "There is no reason for Bonnie to trouble herself with such matters. I'm her protector and this allows me leave to negotiate on her behalf."
"To what end?" Ivar questioned, staring down upon him as if he truly had claim to the throne on which he sat. "What are you hoping to profit from these negotiations?"
"A better existence for Bonnie. I believe the precise marriage contract may allow fate's will for Bonnie's life to prevail. Which we all agree is not Ubbe," Bjorn finished with a scrunched face.
Ubbe darted from his seat. "What task must I carry out to prove to you Bonnie and I are fated to be together, brother?"
"Alright, I'll step aside and allow your betrothal to commence without any interference from me if you can speak to me of how often you dreamed of her before she arrived upon these shores." Bjorn began to pace as secrets tumbled from him he'd never meant to tell another. "Can you speak to me of the pain she endured throughout her years of neglect. Or what of the agony she suffered when the only person who genuinely cared for her passed from this life to the next. If not her pain then what of her courage. Tell me of the fire which burns within her mystical eyes when she stares down an enemy she believes far greater than she. Do you know anything of the heart you so wish to claim? Of the sacrifice she's willing to make to protect those she considers hers? Speak to me about any of those things and I will stand aside."
Ubbe stood with his mouth open and yet without a word to emerge. Ivar and Aslaug exchanged glances. Hvitserk crossed the room to join the fray. After a moment of timid reluctance, he spoke.
"I imagine she must've suffered much over never being favored by her mother or father. That's why she mourns, Siggy, your first child so," His voice fractured, and he paused to clear his throat. "She likens herself to being unloved, discarded, and forgotten by those who've sworn to protect her. As Siggy was in life and now death. And though her grandmother cared for her deeply, Bonnie carries other losses with her. Losses which still dwells in her eyes."
He placed his hand over his heart as he stared off into the distance at nothing. "That is why when she smiles the smile that shines brighter than the light basking from within the gates of Valhalla it never quite reaches her verdant hued eyes."
His gaze drifted back to Bjorn's. "You want to know of her courage? It rivals that of Lagertha's. Every time she went into battle, the expectation of death accompanied her. Bonnie is prepared to die for those she love. For her heart, Bjorn Ironside, is bigger than the oceans you sail and although she's already given it to our brother," his gaze darted to Ivar, and then back to him. "I hope the fates have been kind enough to set but a piece of it to the side for me. Though I may not have dreamed of her, something within me recognize her the moment I saw her."
Bjorn studied Hvitserk. He was not prepared for such revelations of Bonnie coming from his most ill-defined brother. From the expression from the others, he wasn't alone in his judgment. The only one who appeared unsurprised by Hvitserk's declarations was Aslaug. In verity, she looked pleased with herself and discerning. Almost as if she knew something they'd all failed to comprehend.
"Your insight on Bonnie is thorough and accurate, but since you're not the one seeking to marry Bonnie, it's not called for," His gaze darted to Ubbe, "You'll be expected to honor the standard contract of our people, with an additional decree."
"What?" Ubbe's frown was in place before the word was spoken.
"You'll not couple with Bonnie until your wedding ritual is performed and your marriage legalized. You will swear this upon your sacred arm ring and your right to call yourself Ragnar's son. To dishonor this vow is to shame the gods and forfeit your birth right," Bjorn said leveling him with a glare. "Will you agree?"
Ubbe swallowed, and then glanced to Aslaug who gave a shrug of indifference. "Yes, I agree and swear it."
When they reached Kattegat, Sigurd guided her away from the gates and veered her toward the forest. She didn't ask him any questions, she just followed him through the woods to a lake she'd only ever seen on the show. Across from the lake loomed a small cabin. If she had to guess, it would be the one in which Ivar didn't lose his virginity to Margrethe. After they crossed the water on a wooden raft, he steered her into the house.
Once inside, Sigurd didn't give her a chance to look around. He spun her to face him. "Tell me all as you swore to do so."
Bonnie nodded. She'd given Sigurd her word, so this conversation would happen. Relief flooded her even as dread tormented her with doubts. Yet, there was nothing to answer either, but the truth. Taking Sigurd by the hand, she guided him to the bed. They both sat on the edge of the mattress. For a moment they sat in silence as she gathered herself. When she'd ordered her thoughts, she exhaled and began.
"If I must start then it's best to start from the beginning," she said, staring ahead remembering the years which led up to the moment she'd plunged a dagger in her chest for love. "At first none of this will make sense, but by the end you'll understand. So, please no questions. At least not until I'm done."
Sigurd nodded. "Alright."
"When I was twenty-one, I lost the love of my life-," she began.
Confusion came for Sigurd's features. "Twenty-one? But you're not a day over sixteen summers."
"I am eighteen and you promised to let me finish!" Bonnie snapped, slightly disturbed by everyone assuming her to be sixteen and still wanting an invitation into the candy shop.
"Alright, my apologies. Continue, please," he said, feigning contrition.
"As I was saying," she paused to give him a try me glare, before resuming, "when I was twenty-one, I lost the love of my life. Someone I considered a friend killed him. It took me a while to move on from the loss, but I don't think I ever fully recovered. Sometimes I doubt I ever will." She remembered how the picture of she and Enzo in Paris came close to taking her apart. Sigurd gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "But I made him a promise before he died. I promised to live my life to the fullest. So, I traveled, and that's how I ended up running into one of my greatest enemy…"
"Deux s 'il vous plait," Bonnie requested from the baker as she eyed the buttery croissant behind the display.
"Bonnie?" A familiar voice blasted its way from her past and into her present. Her sorcery swirled from dormant and shot to ten ready to spark some shit. "Bonnie Bennett?"
She glanced over her shoulder, hoping to find the accented voice attached to some other less threatening British man. Unfortunately, nope! Because there in front of her stood the original hybrid in all of his evil entitlement.
"Hello, Klaus," she said, attempting to assess if their meeting was by chance or design. "And no Caroline is not with me." The baker passed her the two packaged croissants and she paid. "Merci." Her head dipped in gratitude as she turned to leave the bakery.
"What a surprise happening upon you here, Bonnie Bennett," Klaus said as he followed her from the shop and sidled up next to her on the sidewalk. "Last I heard you were somewhere in Africa. Senegal I believe."
"Is it a surprise, Klaus?" She questioned, while nearly trotting down the walkway in attempts to allude the hybrid, which was dumb as hell because of his original speed, but when was flight or fight ever logical. When he continued to match her step for step, frustration slammed brakes on her flight option. Fight it is! She whirled on him. "And why the hell are you checking up on me? What do you want?"
"Why do you assume I want something? Perhaps I just want to reminisce with an old friend on days gone by," His shoulders rose and dropped as he mocked her with the smirk which never seemed far from his blush red lips.
"Because you and I aren't friends," she snapped, her magic so close to the surface the mystical energy pricked at her fingertips for release. "We do threats not small talk. So, here's one for you, come near me again and I'll seal you in a room, set it on fire, and make sure you spend the rest of your eternity burning."
With that she walked away and hoped it would be the last time she saw him. It wasn't…
Over the next few weeks, she managed to run into Klaus at every turn. There was nowhere in Paris she could go without catching a glimpse of him. He was everywhere she wanted or thought to be. The first couple of run ins she confronted him and nearly kicked his ass down memory lane just like he wanted, but after while she decided not to feed his nonsense and ignore him. She believed in time he'd grow bored and either move on or tell her what the hell he really wanted.
The time came during a date she'd been on which was headed nowhere at a break your ass speed. Her date had just excused himself to the restroom. As she waited, she debated on whether to excuse herself from the date altogether. In fact, that's what she was going back and forth about when Klaus slid into the booth seat across from her. One brow quirked as his ever-present smirk perched upon his lips. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it in favor of giving her a better luck next time smile and shrug.
Her eyes narrowed, while turning her head just so to scrutinize him. "What did you do to my date?"
"Julien concluded you two lacked the…chemistry he'd anticipated. So, he decided to utilize the lavatory back at his flat in favor of the facilities here, Love," Klaus raised a hand to signal the waiter. "And I'm determined to provide you with a gold standard to hold future suitors."
That over-stuffed shitbag! Not only did the bastard have the nerve to run out on their date, but he also had even bigger balls to stick her with the bill. She began to gather her things. The last thing she wanted was a fucking pity date from Klaus. Of all fucking supernaturals! She'd rather set her damn self on fire.
"Come now, Little Witch." He used original speed to sit on her side of the booth, effectively cutting off her escape. "One evening of companionship is all I request. After which, I'll leave you to your wanderlust and you'll never have to be troubled with my company again if you so choose."
She studied him for a moment and exhaled. "What the hell?"
What the hell, indeed. That night opened a door to an unlikely friendship of sorts. For the next month they killed all of their time together. By day, Klaus took her to the Louvre. He introduced her to the understated beauty of oil and canvas. They went for long walks in the gardens of Versailles and cruised the Seine River. At night, he corrupted her with the underground club scene. Seduced her with burlesque and cabaret.
Yet, the most engaging moments of their situation was the quiet times she spent with him. When they would just be, and he allowed himself to be seen. She loved to watch him admiring…anything. Those were instances, she caught glimpses of Niklaus. The man who searched for broken pieces in complicated effects. Never to fix, no. He did so, if only to discover he wasn't alone. She believed that's why he even entertained their friendship at all. For whom else was more broken than she?
Three months in, their friendship changed. She'd like to say it was unexpected, but by the second month of their situationship she saw the ground rising to meet her face in slow motion. No matter the speed of the fall, she was helpless to do anything but let it happen. She still remembered the night which changed everything between them forever. They were drinking and confessing weird facts about their Mystic Falls show downs.
"Oh, Little Witch," Klaus scoffed, before taking another swig from a fifty-year-old bottle of Yamazaki whiskey. "Kol? You really should have higher standards for yourself."
Her eyes rolled as she took a sip from her tumbler. "What can I say? I was young and he was crazy hot."
"The functioning word being crazy," he said, repositioning her legs in his lap. "There's a reason the vainglorious lunatic spent the better part of a thousand years in a box. He's why Mikael nearly captured us in London. The bloody idiot left behind a trail of prostitute bodies which led straight to our doors."
"I Do believe I said I was smitten with his beauty, not his intelligence." Her lips quirked in a half grin.
"Just as well he never discovered your affections." He began to massage her feet. "Not even the threat of the dagger would've kept him from your door. He stalked you for months after you liberated him from his coffin. The bloody fool craved witches to be sure, but Bennett Witches were a bit of an obsession for him. He theorized one of your line was destined to be the eternal witch and would thereby have the power to restore his magic." His hands released her feet to stroke their way up her legs.
Her heart pounded her chest in rapid successions as her legs slightly parted in invitation. "And what do you think?"
"Kol's an idiot and I'll be just as witless as him if I squander this opportunity before me in favor of pondering another one of his fanciful prophecies." His mouth descended on hers, as his fingers stroked and caressed their way between her down under lips.
From that night forward she was his and he knew it. Over the next five years they traveled Europe together, deliriously happy and recklessly in love. Somewhere in between they even managed to get engaged. Those years were bliss, but everyone knows happiness is only for a season. A week before their wedding Klaus was called back to New Orleans because Haley had gone missing. From there, shit went downhill damn near faster than the speed of sound.
"When Klaus told me his plan to sacrifice himself for his daughter…I don't know," she shook her head still attempting to connect with the emotions that drove her to do something so foolish, "guess it was one loss too many, because I recited the spell and stabbed myself in the heart. Not long after I awakened on Bjorn's boat."
Sigurd exhaled as he stared at her with stretched wide eyes. "Do you think you'll ever get back to your land, your time?"
"Yes," she nodded, shifting on the bed to look at him full on, "I'll just have to take the long way around."
"Is it still your mind that this Niklaus is the other half of the prophecy?" He questioned, while his gaze scoured her face.
She shrugged. "I don't know anymore, Sigurd. Only time and fate will tell."
Sigurd stood and pulled his sword from his scabbard. He drove the blade in to the wood plank floor and kneeled in front of her. "I pledge my sword, loyalty, and allegiance to you. I renounce my-,"
"Sigurd," she placed a hand over his mouth, "You should think about this before you make a decision you can't come back from."
He pressed a kiss into the palm of her hand. "Your path is mine, and with you is the only place I long to be. So, yes, I renounce my right to Valhalla."
An ancient edict wedged itself into the walls of her mind. The decree hummed and swelled until instinct guided her movements. And age-old wisdom ordered her words. Prehistoric sorcery ripped through her with the delicacy of a freight train. The four walls of the cabin shook. Weapons and animal antlers rattled against the wood paneling. Sigurd watched her with a calm resolve that resonated. He'd accepted his fate and wasn't afraid of what came next. She snatched his dagger from his trousers and handed it to him.
"Offer to me the life which flows through your veins," she said in a voice that sounded slightly off pitch from hers.
Sigurd used the blade to slice open his wrist and placed it to her mouth. Without brain wrestling over the many nasty diseases found in blood, she ran her tongue over the open wound. After she'd drunk her fill, she placed a hand over his wrist. The mystical energy pooling in her palms sealed the laceration. Once healed she took the blade from him, and then pressed the point into the center of her chest. Fear crept into his face.
"Don't be afraid," she said as she visually drowned in his sapphire stare. "For I must die for you so you may live for me." With that said she plunged the blade into her chest and yanked it out. Her gold threaded ruby red blood reflected back at her from Sigurd's wide eyes. Her knees buckled. She fell back on the bed. "You must drink from me, Sigurd."
Wasting no time, he climbed on the mattress and cradled her in his arms. Once he had her situated he began to take huge gulps from the wound. As he drunk of her, supernatural threads bound them together. Creating a bond that would join them as one throughout the ages.
As her life, began to fade she rasped, "I give unto you all that I am, Sigurd."
He lifted his mouth from the gash at her chest. Golden ruby red blood stained his lips and teeth. His irises glowed solid gold. "Valkyrie, you also have my all. My heart, love, loyalty and my devotion. From this moment on everything I do will be for you."
For the first time ever, Bonnie died at peace.