Hvitserk entered Ivar's throne room with heavy shoulders. He'd searched the whole of the castle, every crevice of the city and the surrounding forest. Still, Bonnie remained loss to them all. The weight in his chest was nigh unbearable. Upon his entrance into the room Ivar's head jutted up. Expectation manipulated his features. Like him, he hadn't slumbered in two risings time. Not since they'd noticed Bonnie's absence. Hvitserk didn't understand. Where could she have misplaced herself? For there's no way the Saxons would've been able to take her without her consent and by force. So what could've provoked her to take leave of the city?
"Well?" Ivar demanded as he struggled to stand. He leaned forward to rest the brunt of his weight on the great table. "What have you discovered? Was it the Saxons? Have they taken her? I will burn them all!"
"No! I mean-,"
"What do you mean, Hvitserk?!" Ivar roared.
"We can't be sure. Especially, since we're not sure what transpired before she became loss to us." He studied his youngest brother for a moment. From the way Ivar's shifty eyes refused to meet his gaze, Hvitserk sensed his brother wasn't revealing all to him. "Thomas spoke of last sighting her strolling here. Were you not the last to cast your gaze upon her?"
"How can I know such a thing?" Ivar's question left his lips hesitant in its inquiry.
Hvitserk's rage burned under his ever receding restraint. He exhaled to calm the steady build of his anger. "Well what did you speak of? What was her mind when you parted?"
"How am I to know a woman's-,"
"Ivar!" Hvitserk exploded, reaching the end of his patience. The door to the throne room slammed open and his brother's personal warriors rushed in swords drawn. Without casting his glare away from his brother, "Leave us and do not return until summoned." They remained just in the door staring at Ivar for confirmation. Not favoring having his orders questioned, he finally turned a searing eye to them. What they saw in his glare forced them to take several steps backwards. "You'll do as I ordered or I'll make sport of ripping the bones from each of your backs." This was enough to send them scurrying from the room. He whipped around to retrain his scrutiny on his brother. "Now explain to me what occurred between you and Bonnie?"
Ivar resettled on his stool as distress crept over his face. "She discovered me coupling with a slave girl."
"What?!" He stalked across the room to the wooden slab his brother sat behind. "How could you be so foolish? What is wrong with the sons of Ragnar that the Mother of all supernatural things isn't enough to sate their lusts? If Bonnie favored me as she did you all, she'd never know a moment of grief behind such betrayal."
Vengeful mystical energy rippled through the room. Ivar drove the blade of his dagger to the hilt into the slab of solid wood. "Do you believe I willingly gave myself to another? I had no control over my actions. The deities' will at work here was greater than that of my own. I was no more than a slave to my lusts."
"You and every other warrior in this castle. Yet, the difference with them is they don't charge the gods for over indulging their lusty appetites," he slammed his fist down on the make shift table. The wood groaned and shuddered.
Sincerity presented itself in his brother's persistent stare. "You and I both know well, lust has never been a stirring motivator for me. In verity, if not for Bonnie I doubt my prick would rouse at all. Just as it failed to rise afore for the same slave girl who I apparently couldn't stop myself from entering only risings ago." The pigmentation of his face developed a likeness to that of Bonnie's eyes. He turned away and retched. "Even now it sickens me to reflect upon being within that slave's cavernous parasitic sheath."
"Parasitic?" Hvitserk parroted as he plotted a course to follow each of his brother's points.
Ivar's gaze rolled to glare at the far wall. "She infested my crotch with louse. Sheila had to shave my prick and douse me in heated oil to rid me of them."
"If only Sigurd could sight you now," he snickered despite the gravity of the moment.
His brother's mournful eyes returned to him. "You must find her, Hvitserk. I can't slumber, eat, think, or be. Without her I'm truly crippled, brother."
"I will find her." He held his younger brother's gaze. "I swear it upon our love for her."
"We should depart. I'll wager the Northmen aren't far behind," Ethelred said as he left the depths of the forest after relieving himself. He glanced around, and then a frown gathered his brows together. "Where's Bonnie?"
Alfred spared him a glance before returning his attention back to the arranging and storing of their bedding. "She went to wash."
"Again?" He demanded as disbelief soared the pitch of his voice. "She just bathed yestereve! How natural is it for her to want to wash herself every time the thought of filth crosses her mind? Enough is enough!" He spun on his heels to march back into the forest.
"Ethelred!" Alfred hissed after him, but he refused to attend him.
Several moments later he came upon Bonnie floating on her back in the cleanliest lake he'd ever seen. He could see all the way to the bottom. Steam rose from the water, indicating itself as a hot spring. Since traveling with Bonnie they'd discovered quite a few among their journey.
"Intercessor, if we're to stay ahead of your Northmen, then we should depart with haste," he said managing to bar the curtness he felt from his tone.
A smile graced her arresting face. "Not until you allow me to bathe and groom you as well."
"I-I'm afraid that would be improper." He swallowed to relieve the dryness of his mouth.
She arched a brow. "To whom?"
"To god," he said, attempting to falsify his way through outrage.
"Yours or mine?" She questioned as she swam towards the bank.
He was about to answer when she left the waters wearing nothing more than the golden brown skin god had blessed her with. Sweet Mary, she was breathtaking. His gaze swept over her, not knowing which part of her to consider first. His cock swelled without further provocation. She reached out and began to disrobe him. His body loss its desire for air. He only wanted to invade her and inhale her while doing so. Her flowered and mystical scent intoxicated him like no other.
Once she had him as herself, she pressed her full breasts to his chests and angled her face to look up at his. "To whom would it be improper, Prince Ethelred, your god or mine?"
"Ours," he uttered in a broken whisper.
"Come," she said, her smile rather telling.
She led him into the water, then proceeded to bathe and groom him. The decadence of her touch relieved him of his seed twice. He'd never known such pleasure without being buried ball sack deep within a woman's sheath.
"Will you allow me to enter you?" He so wanted to become acquainted with the most intimate inner parts of her.
"No," She shook her head as she palmed his cheek. "My heart is spoken for and in turn so is my body. It isn't my right to offer you what I've already given to another."
"None of the sons of Ragnar can bestow upon you what I will," he said, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.
A hint of a smirk disturbed her beautiful lips. "And what can you bestow upon me, my Prince, that it wouldn't gladden my love to give to me?"
"I'm willing to make you mistress to the King of Kings in England," he said, holding her gaze so she'd understand the gravity of what he truly offered her. "There would be no other woman in all of this land more elevated than you. Not even my wife when time comes for me to take one."
"I'd rather be a loved and cherished wife of a King of Norway than a mistress to the King of Kings in England." She backed out of his embrace. "Many apologies, Prince Ethelred, but I must decline your offer. Yet, I'll make you a counter offer. Allow me to mark you as my trusted and you have my vow that I'll come for you when you've reached your end. You'll not greet the other side alone, whether you decide to join the Ancient of Days or to embrace me and Nirvana."
"You've avoided me since your return, Ubbe," Margrethe's unwelcome voice met his ears as he took his leave of Sigurd's dwelling.
Most reluctantly, he turned to confront his ex-wife. "How have you fared, Margrethe?"
"How have I—Ubbe I haven't fared well at all. Soon after you sailed for England I lost our babe." Tears flooded her eyes to brimming. "Then Lagertha and Torvi have treated me no better than a slave. They've even set Guthrum and Bjorn's babes against me."
"I'm sorry life here hasn't been one of ease for you since I departed to avenge my father," he said, while attempting to step around her.
She thwarted his efforts by stepping into his path. "It's not your apologies I'm in need of, Ubbe!" She glared at Sigurd's keep. "Is this where you've dwelled since you've arrived?"
Agitated by her womanly display of emotions, his temper slipped from his grasp. "Why is my whereabouts your concern?"
Her eyes flared. "Why wouldn't I be concerned? You are my husband, Ubbe!"
Her declaration slitted his eyes. "No, Margrethe. We are wed no more! I broke our matrimonial bonds nigh a solstice cycle ago."
"What?!" Her shriek nearly bled his ears.
"You can't expect me to believe you're ignorant of this. Why, you had to have felt when the bonds-," The rest of his accusation dwindled to nothing as the full realization of Bonnie's sentencing of Margrethe sparked light in his unassuming mind.
Bonnie hadn't only cast her out of their society, she'd bodily removed her from the connection shared among his people. He'd always knew Bonnie's sorcery was great, yet he'd never believed her greater than the gods. Even when the All-Father bowed to and bled for her. He thought Odin suffered from lust as everyone else when they found themselves acquainted with Bonnie.
"This will not stand!" Margrethe cried, her hands clenched at her sides. "You swore an oath to me."
"That was neither ordained nor recognized by our people's Supreme," He invaded her space to tower over her. "You're no longer one with our people or the gods. You didn't even sense the severing of our matrimonial bonds."
"It matters not! You made me one with your people once more when you entered matrimony with me, and you'll honor your vow to me." She pointed her finger in his face as she hissed at him through the slits of her teeth and glared at him from slitted lids. "Our people and queen will see to it."
Hvitserk kneeled next to the clear waters of the lake. He placed his hand just beneath the surface of the faultless depths. Hmm, still warm. He was close. He'd be upon them in a half rising's time. For the last two risings since he'd come across Bonnie's trail he'd hunted her steps. From the tracks she'd left in her wake, he'd discovered she didn't travel alone. Two other males journeyed with her.
Hvitserk wasn't certain of his Hjarta's intent for seeking her leave of York with two unknown males. Yet he was certain she didn't mean to remain loss to them. For if she didn't want to be discovered she would've never left the lakes in such a state nor littered her abandoned camp sites with the little flowers she favored which only grew in his homeland. Flowers he'd often left among her offerings. He never believed she knew, however, the brazen display of her leavings spoke over much of her awareness of him. He pondered just how much she really knew of his devotion for her.
"Hvitserk, we discovered this near the water," Thomas said, holding up what appeared to be a cape embroidered with the royal crest of Wessex near the breast. "Does this mean the Saxons have taken her?"
Hvitserk snatched the heavy woolen material from the warrior and attempted to set the garb afire by visual means. "Inform the party we'll be riding on from here. We shall be upon them soon."
Thomas nodded before turning to relay his orders. Why'd the Prince of Wessex take Bonnie? Even still, why'd she allow him to take her? Was this yet another plot exacted by the beginner of her line? He wouldn't be taken unawares to discover her manipulations at work. At work in the same way they'd been when she'd visited him at Bonnie's keep the eve before they set sail for England. That eve she'd confirmed he and Bonnie's fate lay upon interwoven paths. Yet she'd implored him to step aside so she and Ivar would grow closer. She assured him Bonnie's continued existence depended on she and his brother forming an unbreakable bond. So to keep her safe he feigned indifference to her charms and watched as her affections grew for his youngest brother.
Yet he never believed he'd have to witness the breaking of her heart as well. Had he understood this to be a part of the witch's schemes his agreement wouldn't have been so forthcoming. Though to be just, he believed Ivar's betrayal of Bonnie wasn't betrayal at all. He believed the entire occurrence to be nothing more than divine intervention. For Ivar's love for Bonnie rivaled his own.
Ivar's gaze never strayed far from Bonnie when she was near. When she wasn't about he studied the door of wherever he dwelled until her presence enchanted the entrance and she lingered at his side once more. Ivar only had two obsessions in this life, fame and Bonnie. Those two conquests were the only motives which would've provoked his ambitious brother to open such easily parted thighs. Since neither could be found in the uninspiring muff of the slave girl his blamelessness in the matter wasn't difficult to sight.
The cloak crumpled in Hvitserk's fist as he stalked over to his horse. He mounted the beast in one swift move. Soon he'd have his Hjarta within his arms, while the blood of an English prince dripped from the point of his blade. There'd be no rest for any of them until both of those things came to past.
"What is it about the Northmen that seduces God's most sacred?" Prince Alfred asked without removing his gaze from the path which lie ahead.
Agitated for having to travel on horseback and only half listening, the skin between Bonnie's brows rippled. "Excuse me?"
"You are aware King Aethelwulf isn't my natural father. That Athelstan, Ragnar's most beloved friend was," this time he did spare her a glance. "For a time he too thought himself capable of abandoning all he knew for the pagan Gods. Yet in the end he embraced what he knew to be right and just, or so I've heard it spoken."
"Why're you comparing me to Athelstan, Prince Alfred?" She questioned as she permitted her stare to linger on Ethelred's back.
The elder prince had chosen to ride ahead of them and sulk. Something he'd taken to doing since she'd dodged his shot earlier that afternoon. Which was more than fine. If pouting eased his pride she more than welcomed him to do so. As long as he was safe from spiritual manipulation, he could have him an entire one man pity parade if he were so inclined. He'd accepted her mark. Allowed himself to be bathed and groom. Her supernatural covering would protect him from Inadu's possession and influence. Their involvement with each other had reached its conclusion. At least until he passed from this life to the next.
"Like my true father, you too, are a vessel of god. And like him, you allow yourself to be used by the Northmen," Alfred said without anger or venom compromising his tone.
Alfred's declaration snatched her attention from Ethelred and dropped the full weight of her regard on him. "If you're to be king one day you should learn well not to speak on subjects in which you lack knowledge."
"And you'd do well to learn Wessex's line of succession. For it is likely I shall never be king," he said giving her an amused look which sparked from his eyes without disturbing his mouth.
"Again, he proudly spouts ignorance though he dwells in the land of unawareness," she said cutting an eye at him.
He laughed and this time allowed his lips to settle in a genuine smile. "Then perhaps you should invite me into your land of all knowing, Intercessor. I'm certain it'll prevent me from committing such blunders in the future."
"The people of the North are sons and daughters under my dominion. They don't scheme and take advantage of what I've so willingly bestowed upon them." She returned her gaze to the path.
"Will you forsake us because you favor them?" Alfred questioned. His tone ever gentle and lacking accusation.
She exhaled as she turned his words over in her mind. Though the English kingdoms held its share of supernaturals within its lands, most didn't belong to her. They departed from her oversight when they chose to create a covenant with the Ancient of Days. So it wasn't she who'd forsaken them, it was them who chose to turn a blind eye to the Goddess of All.
"I haven't forsaken anyone," she shifted on her horse to relieve the ache in her ass.
"Yet you fight for their cause under their banner against my kingdom." He tugged on his reigns and urged his horse closer to hers.
"My anger with England died with Ecbert. Between you and me, we aren't much longer for these shores. My betrothed grows restless and will soon set his sights on another conquest," she said. "You'll have your country back soon enough, Prince Alfred."
Alfred's features drooped a bit. "Then it's true, you do fancy yourself in love with Ragnar's youngest son Ivar."
"I'm afraid my heart or energy doesn't know how to do anything but love Ivar," she revealed with a candidness which made them both uncomfortable. Yet down the rabbit hole they continued to go.
"Then I've condemned myself," he said, casting his gaze away from hers.
She turned to look at him full on. "Condemned yourself how?"
"It's nothing of import. Come, I believe Ethelred may want us to make camp here." With that said, he urged his horse ahead.
"This is senseless!" Ubbe growled through the clench of his teeth as he glared up at Lagertha who perched upon her throne. "It is my right as a man to divorce Margrethe if I discover her to be unsatisfactory as a bride. Asides, our marriage wasn't recognized by the Supreme of our people, so our matrimonial bonds weren't truly bound."
Margrethe whimpered next to him, before sobbing louder into her hands. His eyes rolled at her act. He still couldn't grasp her boldness. She a former slave, having the audacity to request a judgement against him, a former prince! After the lie she'd spoken to trick him into matrimony with her, she should consider herself fortunate it wasn't him seeking judgement against her.
Glee polished Lagertha's eyes as she moved her gaze from he to Margrethe. "That may be so, but Margrethe has lived among us as one of us since your departure for England. It would be unjust if not unkind to not at least hear her complaint." Her brows and shoulders rose. "And you did free her without my consent. What man would risk the displeasure of his queen if not a man in love?"
Ubbe scoffed. "A man who mourned the death of his mother and wanted nothing more than to spite her murderer." Torvi glared down at him, while Lagertha still appeared amused. "Admit it, you only insist on this hearing to humiliate me. You care not for the severing of Margrethe's and my matrimonial bonds."
"I am queen here, Ubbe. My feelings are of no note. This in verity is why I must hear Margrethe's dispute and make a judgment," she said straightening on her throne and extending a hand to Margrethe. "For even though I do not favor her, she's still counted among the citizens of Kattegat and as such my subject. This is part of my responsibility as queen."
Margrethe's sobbing halted enough to cut him a glare inspired by undiluted evil. "Thank you, Queen Lagertha."
His eyes rolled. Oh now she was grateful to the queen. Yet, only last rising she disparaged both Lagertha and Torvi.
"Speak to me of the offense you believe Ubbe has committed against you," Lagertha said, casting her unwavering gaze upon his ex-wife.
Margrethe sniffled as she dried her tears with the backs of her hands. "He's broken his vow to me and the gods." Her voice fractured with emotion he sensed wasn't quite genuine. "He's divorced me without cause and set me adrift without the means to look after myself."
Lagertha's gaze swept to him. "Do you deny this-,"
"He cannot!" Margrethe shrieked.
Lagertha's glare snapped back to his ex-wife. "You've had your turn to speak. You will now be silent, or I will have you removed, and your fate will be decided without the benefit of your presence. Do you understand?" Margrethe lifted her chin and nodded once. "Do you understand?" Lagertha seethed once more.
"Y-Yes, I understand," Margrethe stammered, her feet shuffling in place.
"Do you deny her claims, Ubbe?" Lagertha demanded, turning every gaze in the hall upon him with her inquiry.
"Yes, I deny her claim," he snapped, swinging his glare from Lagertha to Margrethe. "We were never legitimately married."
"He lies!" His ex-wife shrieked between sobs. "Many here were present at our matrimonial ceremony. Torvi daughter-in-law to the queen witnessed my marriage to Ubbe," she said, waving a hand at Torvi before swinging it to gesture at an older woman who donned ceremonial garb from head to ankles. "Even Kattegat's high priestess officiated."
"I'm not disputing the marriage occurred, I'm disputing its legitimacy," he corrected clasping his hands behind his back. "For if our marriage were recognized by the Gods and the Most High of our religion, our bonds wouldn't have been easily cast off. Not with just a mere declaration on my part."
"Yet you extended your vow to Margrethe even after our Supreme made you aware of her displeasure over the union, Ubbe?" Lagertha settled back into her throne. "So to cast her aside based upon your marital bonds lack of legitimacy…a lack of legitimacy you question after years of matrimony appears more as an excuse than an actual grievance."
"I didn't rescind my vow over the validity of my marriage," his voice soared over the mutters and utterance that assailed the hall. "I rescinded my vow because she," he jabbed his thumb at his ex-wife who lingered at his side, "beseeched it from me by way of fraudulent means."
"Lies!" Margrethe gasped as her bluish-gray pigmented gaze nearly swallowed her face. "I would never!"
Ignoring her, he continued. "Question anyone here who attended my marriage ceremony. I attempted to flee. Yet she deceived me into believing she carried my son."
"Did she now?" Torvi asked with wide eyes and a gloat which lit her entire face.
"I did carry your babe, and the grief of you abandoning us forced me to miscarry him." Once again Margrethe began to sob.
"Woman, will your tongue ever deign to speak the truth?" He turned to hiss at her.
Tears flooded her filthy face until it resembled a mud drenched mess. "Ubbe, I've never spoken false-,"
"And yet she dares to speak even more lies," he cast his gaze back to Lagertha as disbelief colored his tone. "For did she not poison my brothers and I with her foul womanly blood, and then attempt to place her deceitful act at the door of Bonnie's keep?"
"Yes, in verity she spewed her falsehoods to our Supreme's face without shame. I never understood why Prince Ubbe would join the once witch and slave in matrimony after such an occurrence," he recognized Asta's voice, but couldn't discern her from the faceless horde who'd gathered in the great hall.
"Yet, he did!" Margrethe snapped, forsaking her public display of distress. "He gave me his vow. A vow he must honor as a son of Ragnar!"
Lagertha clucked her tongue. "Why must everyone insist on holding Ragnar's sons to a level of honor he himself in life never reached?" She muttered to herself before settling her cool pale glare on his ex-wife. "Were you with child when you entered matrimony with Ubbe, Margrethe?"
"Yes, my queen," Margrethe simpered as she dipped her head in a mock bow. "As I spoke afore, I miscarried our babe due to inconsolable grief."
"Can anyone else aside you attest to this?" Lagertha questioned.
"Well," Margrethe's gaze began to shift. "It was the winter months, and as you know I spent them alone in Ubbe's keep." A few male snickers rose from the crowd.
"Why not ask the seer?" A deep voice resonated a little out of view, just behind Torvi. Moments later Guthrum appeared at his mother's side. "He sees all and knows half as much. I believe he'll know the right side of this dispute before you today, Queen Lagertha."
Torvi and Lagertha beamed at him. "As always, Guthrum, you've proven yourself wise beyond your years." The queen cast her gaze to one of her personal warriors. "Go, send for the Seer. Tell him his presence is required to settle a dispute."
"P-Perhaps Ubbe and I should attempt to solve this-," Margrethe began.
"Perhaps, you shall hold your tongue and pray your queen doesn't discover you've gathered us all here this rising under false pretenses," Torvi snapped, placing her hand on the hilt of her sword.
Margrethe side stepped closer to him and he wanted nothing more than to feel the length of her neck trapped in his iron grasp.
Alfred lay with his eyes closed, feigning slumber. Though, they'd traveled throughout the day and his aching muscles could confirm the strenuous vigor of their ride, the unease and tension of being so near to Bonnie wouldn't allow his mind to surrender itself to rest. From her scent which wafted about her, to the warmth of her skin, and the soft sounds of her breathing, everything about her enchanted him. What he felt, could the feelings which besieged him day and night be love?
"Prince Alfred."
The sultry softness of her voice invaded his inner turmoil. He had to pray for strength to overcome his urges or Satan would surely use such weaknesses as a foot hole into his soul. Even now he heard her voice where there should have only been silence.
"Alfred!"
His eyes snapped open to find her face hovering over his. "Bonnie? Is there something wron-,"
"Shh," she placed a finger over his lips as she peeked over her shoulder to Ethelred who still lay within the throes of a peaceful slumber. "Come, my Beautiful Berserker will be upon us soon and I have yet to complete the task for which the Ancient of Days summoned me. Now get up and follow me to the river."
Her face disappeared from his view. Slowly, he sat up and glanced once more at Ethelred. He attempted to move soundlessly, so not to disturb his brother who could no doubt exchange pleasantries while asleep. Ethelred had never been known to indulge in weighted slumber. In truth the felling of a bushel of feathers would rouse him. Yet, somehow, there whispering and scurrying about didn't so much as provoke him to stir.
By the time he arrived at the river Bonnie stood in the center naked beneath the glow of the moon. Wisps of steam rose from the surface of the water. Without being told, he undressed and joined her. She floated on her back, her dark tipped peaks pointed towards the heavens. His mind misplaced all sense of propriety as he pursued her. When she drifted within his grasp, she turned and began to run her hands all over him. Spumes of white overran his body, fell from his hair, while the scent of oak and floral invaded his nostrils.
"What-," he began, but she shoved him beneath the surface of the water before he could question her further.
Under the water brilliant blue lights arrested his notice. Curious by the cavorting display, he swam towards the aquatic radiance. Soon as he swam near enough to reach out to it, he was drawn in by a force he'd never experienced afore. For an endless amount of time he tumbled until his back collided with a hard and ungiving surface. Seconds after something firm yet soft landed on top of him.
"Have you lost your damn mind along with your self-preservation?!" Bonnie screeched. The flat of her hand met his chest twice in rapid successions. "Why the hell would you willingly swim in to a glowing hole?"
Her jewel pigmented eyes glinted at him as her bare breasts heaved against his chest. The moist heat of her naked sex rested on his lower abdomen just above his engorged groin. A buzzing filled his head, making her words impossible to discern. Especially, since her plump lips lingered only a breath away from his. Unable to bear the incessant pounding of his need of her any longer, he lifted his head and closed the distance between their mouths. Their tongues collided in a forbidden entanglement. His eyes rolled closed as her fingers entwined themselves in his hair.
Moved to explore every piece and part of her, his hands drifted to cradle the slight weight of her breasts in his palms. In soft kneading strokes he wrenched moan after moan from her and swallowed each one. She tasted of nothing he'd ever savored afore. A blended confection of flavors he'd never knew to crave. He tweaked the peaks of her breasts once more. The soft flesh tightened and pebbled between the pads of his fingers. Her breathing hitched as a whimper vibrated at the base of her throat. The dampened heat on his belly puddled.
Bonnie began to rock back and forth smearing more of the intoxicating slickness over him. His hands slid down her sides to grip the swell of her hips and guide her movements. When he managed to work the length of his manhood in her feminine folds he almost misplaced his seed. A gasp tumbled from his lips. Gads she must be what heaven felt like. She reached down between them and took hold of his cock. The throbbing head of his manhood slipped to her damp opening of her sacred entrance.
"I-I've never lain with a woman before," he whispered between their fevered pecks. "I'm not certain I know what is expected of me. I'm not even certain of my emotions. What I know is, I've never felt for anyone what I feel for-,"
"Oh my Goddess! What the hell am I doing? We can't do this!" She lifted herself free of him and scooted away. "What was I thinking! I shouldn't have done this!"
Confusion snatched him upright. For the first time since they'd fallen into their hidden place, he allowed his gaze to assess their surroundings. They appeared to have been displaced within a cavern of sorts. Blue radiant lights sparkled from the jeweled stones which embedded the walls of the cave. The iridescent stones lit a pool of clear steaming water several paces away. A crisp freshness perfumed the air and lulled him into a relaxed state. The rigid set of his muscles loosened as a sense of ease descended upon him. Then clarity struck him. In that moment he knew they were exactly where they were meant to be. Together.
He retrained his gaze on her. "You're wrong, Intercessor. Nothing is by chance. You and I have found our way to this place because we were meant to do so."
"No we're here because you couldn't keep your nose on your face!" She hissed back at him, while dragging her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. He frowned. She'd quite effectively concealed her body from him. "I'm not sure if I can even get us out of here. Hell, I don't even know where here is!"
He scooted closer to her and swept her wet tangled hair around to her shoulder. He then dipped his head and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. "It matters not where here is as long as here is where you are, my sweet Deliverer."
"Alfred," she groan as he trailed kisses around to the side of her neck. "I'm s-spoken for and the Ancient of Days abhors premarital sex." His hand worked its way between her knees and her chest. "You have to control your horm-mones." She moaned as he twisted her nipple between his thumb and first finger.
"I'm well learned, and I've never heard such a word spoken. So how can you expect me to control something I'm ignorant of?" He punctuated his inquiry by suckling the delicate but delicious skin at her neck.
Her moans turned to pants. "How have you never done this before?"
"I have a very curious mind that will not stop in its studies until the subject in question has been thoroughly acquired. Now lay back so that I may explore you." Without any resistance on her part, he reclined her on the stone ground. "By the time I've concluded with you, your scent will forever dwell in my nose, the sight of your beautiful, bronzed body will remain in my memory even as I enter the gates of my father's kingdom, the sound of your moans will carry me into slumber each night I lay myself to rest, and the taste of you will linger on my tongue when I'm doddering, old and my palate no longer distinguishes flavors. I will be the leading expert in the matter of you. No one will know more in the ways of how to please you than I. Not even your Viking Warlord." She opened her mouth to speak, and her words were loss within his overzealous kiss.
Tears of guilt ran unchecked down Bonnie cheeks as she gave herself over to another mind twisting orgasm. The silken strands of Alfred's hair slipped through her fingers. Frantically, she searched for any piece or part of him to grasp. For the fifty-eleventh time that eve her world threatened to shake apart. The pulsing swell that licked at her lower belly warned of her impending demise. Alfred who must've sensed his end too, gripped the nape of her neck in one hand while the other tore savagely at her hip to drag her closer as he deepened his thrusts. Oh Goddess he'd deconstruct her and leave her in a state she didn't recognize if she weren't vigilant.
"Oh God I love you," he groaned into her hair as he released into her once more, filling her to the brim with his seed. "Of course I love you. How could I not?"
He peppered kisses all over her tear drenched face as he collapsed on top of her. "I can't love you, Alfred. Not in this way. No good can come from me loving you. I can't make an enemy of your god."
"Shh." He rested his cheek at the cradle of her breasts. "This is our place. No errors or sins can be committed here. Here I'm not a prince and you're not the Intercessor. Here we can love and belong to each other."
He reached up to rub the pad of his thumb over her nipple. A ripple of pleasure tore down her spine and bottomed out at her center.
"Only in this place will I ever admit that I wish you were mine, Alfred." Her eyes drifted closed as her grip around the would be king tightened. "Only in our place."
"Seer, thank you for joining us," Lagertha said as she eyed the blind relic with a grave expression.
"Yes," The Seer spat as unrestrained distaste twisted his features. "What do you want, Lagertha, then shieldmaiden, once earl, and now queen of Kattegat?"
"Ubbe's ex-wife has raised a dispute against him for breaking his vow when he-,"
"Set her adrift," The Seer finished for her as his head cocked in her direction. "I'm aware of the unraveling of Ubbe's matrimonial bonds. What I'm not mindful of is my purpose here this rising. What could I add to this spectacle?"
"We're here to determine if Ubbe has indeed broken his vow to Margrethe or if he was truly deceived by false means into offering her his sacred oath," Lagertha explained.
"Ack!" The Seer tossed his hands up and dust plumed from his tattered robes. "Of course the impotent witch deceived him. Yet deceiving a man whose brain is addled with lust is not such an extraordinary fete. She could've claimed she'd bare him a litter of piglets and he would've hastened her into matrimony." He turned his head in Ubbe's direction and bestowed upon him an annoyed expression. "And even a litter of pigs would be beyond her capabilities, for the once witch is as baren as a land deprived of rain and water. And well she knows!" His eyeless gaze discovered Margrethe. "That's the price you pay when you allow evil spirits to take possession of your body." He then turned back to Lagertha. "Now am I done here?!"
"Yes, you may seek out your leave, Seer," Lagertha said, before bringing the full weight of her glare down on Margrethe. His ex-wife shrank closer into his side and whimpered a bit. "And you, what shall we do with you now we finally have the right of it?" Her gaze swept to him. "We've all been inconvenienced by the ploys of this agitator enough for one rising. Yet, it's you, Ubbe, whose been disrupted most of all. She's called into question your honor and has place slander upon your name. So it is you who should decide what shall become of her."
"Thank you, Queen Lagertha." He raised his chin as relief buckled and then swelled his chest. For a moment, he'd thought he'd be made to remain married to the deceptive shrew. "Though I'd want nothing more than for you to cast her out, she'd never survive the winter in the forest as a Skogarmaor." His gaze dropped to a now visibly shaking Margrethe. A sneer disguised as a smile crept across his lips. "So with this in mind, I have something a bit more fitting plotted for my conspiring ex."
The rumbling of the ground stirred Bonnie to consciousness. Blades of grass stabbed at her cheek, while muddy soil saturated the entire front of her bare body. Dead weight lay upon her back. The leaden frame made it impossible for her to move. Her eyes fluttered open, but the burning brilliance of the sun forced them closed again. The hell?
"Damn it, Klaus! This is the last time we play Big Bad and Little Red," She mumbled annoyed he'd allowed them to pass out in the bayou once again after one of their more intense role plays.
"Scour the forest, raze it to the ground if you must. The Saxons have our Supreme here. I can sense her."
Bonnie snatched her face from a patch of grass. Unholy hell! She wasn't in Louisiana and that damn sure wasn't Elijah pretending to be Van Helsing! Her eyes popped open. She swung her head about as if it had been placed on a swivel. She'd heard her Berserker's voice as if he'd whispered in her ear.
"Hvits?" She tested, half expecting him to jump out of a nearby bush
"Hmm," Soft lips pressed open mouthed kisses into the side of her neck. "Will you allow me to enter heaven once more?"
"Alfred, no." She tried to wiggle from underneath him, but the more she struggled the more grass, dirt, and goddess knows what else dug into her good-good. "Hvitserk is here! If we don't make it back to camp before he finds it, he'll kill Ethelred or worse!"
The weight pinning her to the ground rolled away. "What fate could be worse than death?"
"There are many things in life worse than death, Alfred," she hissed, while climbing to her feet and slapping sand from the front of her body. "Now hurry and dress so your brother won't have to learn them first hand." Articles of his clothing materialized in her hand and she tossed them to him.
As he caught his clothes, Alfred glanced about. "How did you liberate us from the cavern?"
"I didn't," she murmured as she shimmied back into her battle leather. Her hands paused in lacing up her boots. "What happened between us last-,"
"Nothing of note transpired between you and I last eve. You bathed and groomed me," he said, while fastening his cloak in place. Once done he closed the distance which divided them. "Everything else was nothing more than a dream of a young foolish prince."
They stared at each other for a moment. Memories of the night before simmered in their minds. She could still feel his hands all over her. His lips on the most sensitive parts of her body. The salty sweetness of his skin still lingered on her tongue. Recollections of sexing him over and over again until exhaustion took them both down reignited her craving for him. Goddess if she could just get him out of her system then she'd be able to continue on the path fate had laid out for her.
"We should go," she said, before spinning away from him to head back towards the camp.
She hurried back through the woods on the path which led to their camp. The rustling of overbrush and the crunch of leaves on the ground alerted her time had ran out. Hvitserk had arrived and bore down on top of them. What she heard next confirmed her fears.
"If you've harmed her I'll pull your entrails from your hindquarters and ensure you live while I do," Hvitserk's bellow reached them just before they entered the clearing where they'd made camp.
"Yes, perhaps I would prefer death over such a fate," Alfred whispered at her back.
Bonnie exhaled. "Child's play. If we don't intercede, by the time Hvits is done with your brother, having the entrails pulled from his ass will be a fond memory compared to what would come next."
"Burn in hell Pagan Dog!"
Ethelred's malnourished clapback forced Bonnie forward into the clearing. The sacking of their camp came to a standstill. Sons and daughters under her dominion offered her a warrior's bow, but she ran them no attention. Her wide stricken stare was trained on Hvitserk who stood over Ethelred with his foot on his neck and the point of his sword leveled between his eyes. She attempted to use her sorcery to move Hvits away from the elder prince, but like Ivar her magic refused to be wielded against him.
"Hvits," she called out to him.
"Hjarta?" His head snatched in her direction. When his glare crash landed on her the severe tension which locked the muscles in his face relaxed. "Are you well?"
She nodded. "I've not been harmed. The princes have been nothing but kind to me."
She attempted to take a step in his direction, but Alfred grabbed her hand. "Bonnie?"
The plea in his voice and undiluted infatuation in his eyes halted her steps. A flurry of movement at her back drove her attention back to Hvitserk in time to see rage darken is expression and an ultra-sapphire mass of potent supernatural energy light his eyes. Withdrawing his foot from Ethelred's neck, he stalked over towards she and Alfred. Ethelred now liberated, jumped to his feet, while snatching his sword from its sheathe. At full speed he ran with the blade aimed at Hvitserk's back. She tore her hand from Alfred's to throw up a barrier spell to protect Hvits as she also allowed her sorcery to displace the sword from the elder Prince's grasp.
Mystical energy thundered all throughout her as she leveled Ethelred with a hell bred glare. "You will not harm my mate, Ethelred! Never under any circumstances will I ever allow you to do so. Do you understand me?!"
Ethelred's eyes slitted as he stared at something just over her shoulder. "What of Alfred? Will you stand by while your mate harms my brother?"
She turned to find Hvitserk damn near strangling the life out of Alfred. "Hvits, no! Oh Goddess please no!" She attempted to push him off, but he wouldn't budge, and her magic was useless against him. Tears of frustration blurred her vision. "Hvitserk, this hurts me!"
Immediately, his hands left the young prince's throat. Alfred fell to the ground drooling and gasping for air. Afraid Hvits may have compromised his breathing, she snatched the dagger from her thigh holster and moved to slit her wrist.
"You will not!" Hvitserk's roar echoed throughout the forest and came damn close to scaring the sacred shit out of her. "If he's to live, he'll do so by the will of his god and by no means of you. Now gather your things, before I change my mind and slaughter them both." With that said he rose and stalked away from her.
Once they were alone she grabbed Alfred and inspected his neck. It wasn't as bad as it could've been, but she still wanted nothing more than to heal him altogether. "I'm sorry, Alfred. Yet, you'll be fine and so will your kingdom I swear it."
She moved to stand, and he grabbed her hand. Ethelred now free, squatted at his other side. "Bonnie, please…don't go…marry me."
"I can't stay, and you know well that I cannot marry you, I've done what the Ancient of Days required of me. You and your brother have been prepared for what's to come." He attempted to look away, but she grabbed his chin and urged him to look at her. "A day will present itself when I'll need your assistance, Prince Alfred. I pray you remain true to heart and still have a care to give me your favor." Her gaze drifted between the two princes. "Though many will attempt to come between you two, in the end you'll always stand for the other." She leaned forward and kissed them both on the cheeks and stood to walk away.
"What of yestereve, My Deliverer?" Alfred asked in a near broken whisper.
A flame of shame incinerated her conscience. Remorse and regret came for her self-decency. Alfred deserved better, but she just couldn't help herself. She prayed the Goddess would forgive her and one day so would he. Without turning, she said, "Nothing more than a dream of an older woman who should've known better."