"Bonsie, Wilbur spilt the other jar of honey," Guthrum said, pointing his finger at the piglet who was scarfing down as much honey as he could before someone ruined his fun by cleaning up the mess.
Bonnie stomped over to Wilbur who didn't appear the least bit intimidated. Reaching down she attempted to snatch the ladle from his mouth. "Give me that honey stick you little son of a-,"
In a sharp turn the piglet managed to yank the ladle out of her grasp and leave her grasping and begging thin air for a save. Which by the way never came. She fell smack on her ass in a puddle of honey, while Wilbur trotted away. Yes trotted, not ran, trotted away with the honey ladle sticking out of his mouth like a damn Cuban cigar. Hali, Blida, and Hilda nearly burst a spleen laughing at her.
Guthrum, ever her hero, came over and threw his arms around her neck. "Worry not, Bonsie. I'll teach Wilbur how to behave towards my favored girl." With that said, he shot off after the piglet.
When he disappeared into the crowd, she nearly gave birth to her heart. Not wasting anytime, she jumped up and chased after him. A couple minutes later, she found him crouched down scolding a disinterested Wilbur who was too busy chewing the hell out of the honey comb on the ladle to care about anything Guthrum was on about.
"Jedi, you can't just run off like that, you almost gave me-," A tsunami of potent mystical energy engulfed her. It wrapped around her so firmly and adoringly her own magic exploded from every orifice on her body to track the source. Ragnar! Damn near intoxicated by the exchange, she looked to Guthrum, "Go back to the trading table. Tell Blida I said find your father right now and tell him I need him down at the market place as fast as he can get here." He stared at her for a second with huge eyes, before nodding once and running back in the direction of her trading table.
Once he was out of sight, she turned to search out the whipping storm of sorcery. Drawn like a ton of metal to a super deluxe space magnet, her legs began to move on their own accord. As always the crowd parted, but she had the feeling this time it wasn't just for her benefit. When the final body moved, and the path cleared, she caught her first glimpse of him. Confusion rendered her dumb as hell. The sight before her was not the Ragnar who came stumbling back in town years after the Paris raid. No, this appeared to be season one Ragnar.
"By the gods," someone to her left whispered. "Ragnar's but an old doddering man now. Had I not known him before, I'd never believe it to be him."
The hell! Which one of these blind bastards needed bifocals? Ragnar looked good enough to lick clean…twice! As he drew closer, the nattering of the crowd faded to deafening silence. People blended into the scenery until they eventually cease to exist at all, leaving one person to dominate her reality. Ragnar Lothbrok. Someone who should be looking like how death would if it had just climbed out of the grave. Yet, he appeared just as mouthwatering as his sons. And his eyes, the dormant magic in him was so potent it illuminated his already brilliant blues. They burned so bright, one would've thought he was in the middle of a hellified spell.
Soon he stood before her. Towering over her staring into her eyes, but actually seeing into the depths of her. Invading every inch of her space as if the very thought of distance between them offended him. He lowered his mouth next to her ear.
"I've discovered new lands searching for you." He whispered. "Where have you been?"
Before she could even think to question him, they heard a small disturbance behind them. "Let us pass! Move!"
Once again the crowd parted, and the Lothbrok brothers appeared. When they were near, Sigurd tugged her behind him and stood toe to toe with his father. Ubbe gave her a reassuring look, and then did the same as Sigurd. Ivar slithered into place next to him and Hvitserk on the other side of Ivar. A blend of annoyance and frustration moved over Ragnar's face before indifference masked his features.
"Hello, Ivar," Ragnar said, barely glancing down at his youngest son. His focus still remained on her. "There's no mistaking you." Sigurd shifted a little to the left and effectively blocked his sight of her. "It appears the people of Kattegat didn't come out to wish there king well. Let me guess. You've all heard conflicting tales and wonder which story is true. Well allow me to aid you in your ponderings. Yes, I'm sure everything you heard is true!" He sized Sigurd up. "So, now I've admitted my guilt, who's going to pass judgement and carry out my sentence? Which one of my sons will do the honors?"
He stared Sigurd in the eyes for a moment. Then he moved on down the line doing the same spiel he did from the show. Screaming at the top of his lungs for them to kill him. Nearly, making Hvitserk and a poor looky-loo tea sipper piss their pants when he unpacked the bass in his voice. At this point no one knew what to think. Hell, she was still beyond confused by her reaction to him. By the time he pulled out his sword and started waving it around yelling who wants to be king, she was as transfixed as the others who'd only seen this performance once.
However, when he slapped the shit out Ubbe, twice. She hog tied her inner fangirl, ducked Sigurd's hold and slid to her on again off again side. Her magic flared as she glared at Ragnar daring him to hit him a third time.
"Shh," Ubbe turned to cradle her face in his hands and rest his forehead on hers. Ragnar turned and paced away from them a few steps. "I gave you my word, and I mean not to break it, Valkyrie. We will marry upon your return."
He broke away from her, yanked his sword from his scabbard, and followed his father into the circle of the onlookers. The crowd gasped. Ragnar turned to regard him. It was then Bonnie saw the tears shimmering in his incandescent blues and her heart fragmented into a series of puzzle pieces. Their gazes locked for a moment, before he swung his stare to Ubbe. Determination faded from his face and an air of resolution dropped his shoulders. Without a word he walked to his son and pulled him into a hug. Stunned, Ubbe stood there, appearing not to know what to do next. After seconds of deliberation, the sword in his hand clattered to the ground as he returned his father's embrace.
Another disturbance to her left provoked the masses to once again split. This time Bjorn stepped from the crowd. She exhaled a sigh fueled by sheer relief alone. Her body sagged as Sigurd tugged her under the protection of his arm.
"Why have you returned?" Bjorn demanded, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded his father with an unshakable chill she'd come to rely on for her stability.
"I've come for you," Ragnar's iridescent irises rolled from Bjorn to her. "And your brothers."
Bjorn's eyes narrowed as his scrutiny switched between she and Ragnar. "Bonnie, will you ensure Guthrum's and Hali's safe return to my keep, while I speak with my father?"
"Of course," her head dipped.
Before turning to leave she took one last look at Ragnar. The promise in his stare snatched her brain. Somehow she knew, this wasn't the last she'd see of him.
A couple of days had passed since Ragnar's return. Everyone in Kattegat was up in arms. From the relatives of the Wessex settlers to the people in the kingdom he'd abandoned. All wanted blood yet no one had the balls to make the first strike. Emotions didn't somewhat settle until Ragnar ventured out of Kattegat to take a journey through his past. Even her sorcery became somewhat less turbulent than it had been since his arrival. She'd even managed to barricade herself in her keep and snatch a few winks of sleep. Though for an unknown reason, she'd fought her way out of slumber. Almost as if she meant to escape a nightmare, but the ache in her chest and tears on her face didn't seem prompted by fear.
"You called out Ragnar's name while you slumbered," Ivar's voice floated from the pillow next to her. "In a way I've heard the slave girl call out to Hvitserk and Ubbe in the midst of their coupling."
"You're mistaken." She fell back on the feathered pillow. "And how do you know what Margrethe calls out when she throuples with Hvitserk and Ubbe?"
"I've seen them together, I've seen her with all of them," Ivar said with a side of saltiness in his tone.
Bonnie's brows scrunched together. She turned her head to study his profile. "You sound upset she's had all of them. Why?"
"She denies me because I'm different," he said, keeping his gaze trained on the ceiling. "And that is intolerable."
"Margrethe is an artless girl who was probably raised believing, the only treasure worth claiming is the treasure which glitters." She reached over and used her fingers to comb his hair away from his forehead. "You shouldn't hold it against her because her eyes aren't refined enough to perceive a true fortune when its within her reach."
He grabbed her wrist and pressed a kiss into her palm. "I want to have her. Just as my brothers have before me."
"Then may the gods aid you in having her. I hope she's everything you've desired and more." Bonnie snatched her hand out of his grasp. She turned away from him to lay on her side.
"Bonnie, why were you dreaming of my father?" Ivar questioned.
She closed her eyes. "Have a good eve, Ivar. I trust you can let yourself out the same way you came in."
Two risings before Bjorn received word King Harald's ships were spotted three risings time away from Kattegat. Since the revelation, Floki had his newly commissioned fleet moved into Kattegat's harbor. Bjorn ordered the ships to be loaded. He wanted to be able to depart a mere day are so after Harald's arrival. For several hours a day, he had her at his side overseeing every minute detail that went into the packing and organizing of the fleet. Which she normally wouldn't have minded, but since Ragnar's arrival she hadn't been sleeping well at all.
"Are you well, Mystical One?" Bjorn asked, pulling his attention away from the loading of the ship they'd be sailing. "You appear unrested and distracted."
A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I am unrested and a little distracted because of it. I've not been sleeping well lately. You know how Wilbur gets if he manages to get into the honey before its time for slumber."
"Ack," Bjorn scoffed, and returned his gaze to the ship. "Why won't you just allow me to slaughter that pig? He's far more of a burden than the meat he'll provide."
"Leave Wilbur be," she yawned into her hand, "You and your brothers aren't any better. All of you stay trampling about on my nerves, yet do you see me attempting to hand any of you over to the butcher?" Bjorn gave her a cursory side glance but remained silent. "How's Torvi? I've not seen her or Asa as of late. Is everything okay with them?"
"She, and the babe are well," he assured as he gestured to one of the men loading a boat further down the harbor. "In fact, they visited Lagertha at Hedeby a fortnight ago. They've only just returned the night before."
Something about Bjorn's admission plucked at her common senses. Torvi kicking back with Lagertha sounded off all types of alarms. She and the queen needed to have a conversation and soon. Her expiration date was on the horizon. If she wanted to avoid it, then she needed to put together a damn exit strategy and she did mean ASAP!
She forced a smile. "My best friend caught hell when she first had her twins. She could barely even spare a moment for herself. I'm glad Torvi was able to take some time."
Bjorn shrugged his shoulders in a, he could care less manner. "King Harald will be arriving on the morrow. I expect you will be here with Torvi, Hvitserk, and I to greet him."
"I'll do my best," she said, purposefully not saying one way or the other. She couldn't stand King Harald when she watched him on the show. He was a jealous, whiney, crybaby who was never appreciative about all he had, because he was too busy counting everything he didn't.
Bjorn turned to give her a get your shit in line glare which would've probably buckled men who ate steel for breakfast but did nothing for her. "King Harald is an honored guess who alliance has allowed us to make this journey. Greeting his ships upon arrival is not a request."
"Did I not say, I'd do my best?" Thunder shook the heavens and lightening sliced through the perfect shade of blue sky.
Bjorn glanced upwards, then back at her with slitted eyes. He whirled to face her full on. "As long as your best has you here standing next to me when King Harald arrives, your best will serve you well."
Unable to stomach anymore of him for the day, she spun around and took her leave without another word.
"The thunder and lightning, either the giants have once again angered Thor or-," Floki claimed the spot Bonnie had vacated only moments before.
"Bonnie's a bit ill-tempered this rising," Bjorn said sparing the boat builder a glance. "She's not been herself since Ragnar's return. Of course, she believes me unsuspecting. Yet, I'm very much in tune with the natural shifts of her disposition."
"Well, perhaps when we sail she'll settle back into herself," Floki said, while peering over his shoulder in the direction Bonnie marched off in.
His head bowed in a nod as he clasped his hands behind his back and stared out at the horizon he longed to meet. "The rising Ragnar returned, he appeared…familiar with Bonnie. Did he mention her when he visited you and Helga?"
"Mention Bonnie?" Floki feigned surprise, which was all the more telling to him. "No, he only spoke of his forthcoming journey to England, and to ask if I wanted to accompany him." He halfway turned to consider Bjorn. "Nevertheless, you said he appeared to be familiar with Bonnie. In what way?"
Bjorn's head tilted a little to the side as he recalled the way his father gazed at Bonnie. The longing in his eyes likened him to a man who'd been denied water even as his throat sizzled with flames. "He looked upon her as if he'd known her in a way no other has." He gave Floki a pointed stare, refusing to say more.
"Well, you know this to be untrue. Bonnie is all but a girl of sixteen summers." Floki tsked, waving off his insinuation of his father ever plowing Bonnie. "There's no logic which would support such thinking."
Bjorn scoffed. "Yet, when has logic and Bonnie ever been known to be faithful bed companions?"
"Come, Bjorn! One of The Goddess' shieldmaidens has loosed a pig on the ship! Now the beast is trapped in the tar kiln," A ship hand yelled from one of the boats further down.
"Ack, Floki-," Bjorn began as he started to back away toward the commotion.
Floki waved him off with one of his elvish giggles. "Go and be careful with the swine. She'll castrate us all if one bristled strand of hair is harmed on his spotted oversized head."
Bonnie sat at her dinette table flipping through her ancestral grimoire. She was searching for any spell which would make traveling with fifty-eleven people on a single structure long boat easier. So far all she found was spells for sea sickness and scurvy. This would not be like the two weeks she and Klaus spent drifting aimlessly on a yacht in the South of France. This would probably be a closer description to the Christian hell than even Dante's Inferno could convey.
A knock sounded on the door. Her eyes damn near spun donuts in her head. Bjorn! He more than likely wanted to apologize for his dictating attitude at the harbor. Which was just as well. He acted a complete ass on the behalf of a jackass. She rose as pleasure blossomed in her chest. Bjorn Lothbrok sorry? Ha! This she couldn't wait to see.
With the corners of her mouth nearly touching her ears, she opened the door. Her chin came close to smacking the ground. Instead of Bjorn holding down the welcome insignia on her mat Ragnar Lothbrok stood in his place. The mystical energy swirling about him slapped her in the face in case her eyes wasn't on their job.
"King Ragnar," She studied his face before glimpsing to see who moved about her area. When no one seemed to be performing a slow walk-by she returned her gaze to his. "Why have you come here?"
Eyes so much like his sons remained fixed on her. "May I come in?"
"Of course," she said, trying not to sound too reluctant. Opening the door wider, she stepped back and gestured for him to come inside.
He nodded his gratitude as he entered. Once inside, his inquisitive stare darted all about her place. "This is Rollo's former keep, correct?"
"Yes, Bjorn gifted it to me when I first arrived last summer," she said, while having a seat in her favorite wing chair. "Please, sit down. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"
"No, thank you," he waved off her offer as he sat across from her on the sectional. "You've done well with the repairs for this structure. This keep was a little better than a hovel when Rollo dwelled here. Now it rivals the great hall in comfort."
"I'm sure you didn't come here to praise me on my jazzy taste on interior design, King Ragnar. So why have you come? Is it about what you said to me in the market place?" She crossed her legs. Her night shirt rode a smidge higher on her thighs. She couldn't help but notice how his bright irises follow the material of the shirt north. "How you've discovered new lands while in search of me."
For a long moment he didn't say anything. His iridescent gaze moved over every inch of her face as if he were looking for something. Once he concluded his mental deliberation, he spoke. "You remind me of someone I knew long ago. When I saw you in the market place I became confused. It must be because of the many summers I've seen that my mind sometimes becomes addled."
"Oh, I doubt that. Your eyes betray your words," Bonnie gaze roamed over the Viking who became the definition of his race of people. "I'll wager there's not one thought or idea that's ever been misplaced in that multifaceted mind of yours. I believe you honestly think you know me, but it's okay. Have your secrets and I'll have mine."
A smirk flirted with his lips as his eyes rolled. "Everywhere in Kattegat people speak of you. Many believe you to be a Goddess. Floki and Helga are taken with you. Even my ex-wife Lagertha respects you. Yet, when I inquire why you're held in such high regard, they speak no further. Perhaps we should agree to an exchange of secrets."
"I'd like to bathe and groom you," Bonnie said, running an assessing stare over the hills of hard sinewy, but dirt stained muscles.
His legs parted, while his hips shifted slightly in his seat. "I'd like to allow you to bathe and groom me."
"Where'd you go when you left Kattegat?" She always been curious over his whereabouts during his years away, and the show never addressed his absence. Which felt like one unfulfilled storyline to her.
"I searched," he simply stated. His glowing penetrative stare bore into hers.
She uncrossed her legs and recrossed them. "For?"
"Everything…a meaning," he answered, once more trailing his gaze over her legs. "I very much want to touch you."
A hint of a smile relaxed her mouth. "Wanting things build character. Did you find what you were looking for?"
"I discovered…answers," he said, raising his stare to meet hers.
She tilted her head a bit. "But not a meaning."
"I'm still attempting to discover meaning in my answers." He leaned forward and picked up her copy of The Art of War by Sun Tzu. It was a book she'd begun with Ivar to help perfect and sustain his interest in reading. He turned the book in odd angles, before flipping through the pages. "So, why Ubbe and not Bjorn?"
She laughed. "Bjorn's married, and as for Ubbe, he's not where my fate lies. Do you imagine there's meaning to be found in England?"
"I'm but a simple farmer whose only intent in England is to sow seeds that one day soon my sons will reap. For me, there's no longer anything left to be discovered within that land. Perhaps only in death will the meaning I seek be found." He held the leather bound volume up to her. "No pictures," he said, before placing the book back on her tea table. "Since Bjorn nor Ubbe holds your heart, then either Sigurd or Hvitserk must have a claim to it. So, which of my boys do you prefer?"
She uncrossed her legs and moved to the edge of her seat to have a closer consideration. "You've asked all but one of your sons to sail with you to England. Why haven't you asked Ivar?"
Ragnar's eyes rolled. "Ivar couldn't make the journey, his ailment wouldn't allow him to."
"May I show you something?" She moved to sit next to him on the sectional. He shrugged his consent. She raised her hands to cradle his head but paused before making contact. "Can I touch you?"
"Please do," his whisper left his lips hoarse and broken.
Bonnie filled her mind with an Ivar the Boneless / Don't Be Afraid YouTube edit by Zurik 23M, then placed her palms on the sides of Ragnar's head and let it rip. It was the first edit she remembered humanizing him and showcasing his growth throughout the series. By the time the reel finished, there were tears in both of their eyes.
"And there's one of my secrets on good faith," she said, moving to remove her hands from his head. He grabbed her wrists and held them in a firm but gentle grasp. "I know you don't mean to return from England. That your death is not only meant to cause a chain reaction, but to also prove you control your own fate."
"I knew it," Confirmation of being proven right lit him up as if he stood only inches from a raging forest fire. "You're one of them too. Like Odin…like Floki. You're an immortal."
"Yes, however, I wasn't always one," she nodded, and gave her hands a little shake to get him to focus. "In truth, I've been many things, but that's a long story I've neither the time nor really the inclination to tell. Just know if you wanna succeed in getting vengeance for your people you'll need Ivar to do so. This trip to England with you will be a defining moment for him. It will birth him into the eternal leader and warrior I'll need him to be when the time comes." She swallowed the bitter distaste of fear. "And he'll never choose me if he doesn't consider himself man enough or worthy."
Ragnar's gaze flared. Understanding brimmed the lids of his eyes. "He's the son."
"What?" She blinked.
"Ivar holds your heart." Pain shimmered in the depths of those vibrant electric blues. "You love him."
She closed her eyes to safeguard her remaining focus. "Will you ask him?"
"Why do you ask when you already know that I will?" Ragnar's thumb grazed the hollow of her cheek.
She laughed even as a tear trickled down her cheek. "Because you, Ragnar Lothbrok, have truly become a man in control of your own fate. You've done nothing the same as before. The fact you're even here can attest to just how far off script you really are."
"I'll ask him to come with me to England." He let go of her, and then stood.
She stood as well and followed him to the door. "Goodbye, King Ragnar. How I wish I could've known you when fantasies and dreams of distant lands still filled your eyes."
"Then you would've been queen of Kattegat, and the mother of my sons," He said, giving her a smirk paired with a sly look over his shoulder.
She returned his smirk with a wicked one of her own. "Nah, I was always partial to Rollo. I do believe you would've come to call me sister."
"What if," Ragnar paused with his hand on the doorknob, semi-turning to face her, "I became your leader…you warrior?"
"You'd choose me?" She took a step towards him. "Renounce your claim to Valhalla to fight at my side?"
His hand slipped from the door knob so he could turn and face her full on. "I'd renounce my claim to Valhalla. I'd choose you if you did the same."
"What do you mean?"
"Choose me, instead of Ivar. Renounce my son's claim to the place at your side. Give me your eternity and in turn I'll give you victory over the enemy who stalks you from the shadows." He closed the distance between them to tower over her.
Was that even possible? Did she really have the power to reassign someone's destiny, their fate? And why would Ragnar volunteer to place himself at her side as her eternal mate when he didn't love her. Hell, he barely knew her. This was crazy, but he was celebrated as the strongest Viking in history. Could she really deny what was best for the supernatural world in favor of what was best for her heart? No! Even as she thought things through, her sorcery yearned to break free and be one with Ragnar Lothbrok.
As she'd done before she did once more. She chose honor over self. Slowly she nodded. "If you choose me at your time of death Ragnar Lothbrok, then I in turn will choose you. The place at my side will be reserved only for you." A pleased expression compromised his features as he cradled her face in his hands. "There'll have to be an exchange of blood. Something a little more in depth than a simple offering and favoring if a mate bond is to be born of the interchange. We'll meet to figure out the particulars. Now go and speak with Ivar. We may have hijacked his destiny, but I refuse to steal away his greatness."
Before she could discern his mind, he leaned down and captured her mouth with his. That's when an energy band guarding a forbidden memory in her mind snapped. The feel of his lips on hers reintroduced her to an emotion so vast it nearly tore her to pieces. No wonder why Hvitserk's kiss was so familiar, he had the lips and taste of his father. And Ragnar Lothbrok had the lips and taste of no other. His mouth was not new to her. The feel of his hands on her face was not new to her. Yet why couldn't she remember him?
When he pulled away, it felt as if someone had kicked her over the coo-coo's nest. "We'll meet again soon, My Treasured."
Bonnie watched him slip from her keep as she attempted to figure out exactly when the floor became the ceiling. She pressed her fingers to her lips. Her and Floki definitely needed to have a conversation.