"Is it true?!" Bonnie yelled as she burst into Ivar's throne room.
He, Hvitserk, and multiple other warriors stood gathered around the great table huddled over a map that spanned the entire structure.
"Is what true, My Love?" He questioned without looking up from the map.
"Did you instruct Thomas and the rest of your personal warriors to sack the castle?" She stalked to the other end of the table shoving warriors out of their places to stand directly in Ivar's and Hvits' sight line. "To burn things in my sun room!" She growled through the slits of her teeth.
She'd invested too much time and magic to transform that hovel of a castle into a palace that made the Alhambra look like a quaint Airbnb in comparison. Hell, the state of the art kitchen and a few of the rooms even had indoor plumbing. Indoor plumbing centuries before running faucets and flushing toilets were a home appraisal given. So she'd fuck Ivar's boneless ass all the way up before she allowed him to turn their home into the equivalent of a Middle Age crack house.
"Yes, yes," he said with a furrowed brow still not sparing her a glance. "It's all a part of my strategy. Now please seek out your leave so we may continue without further interruption."
Her head snapped back as if she'd had her bell rung by Adonis Creed himself. Her glare shifted to Hvitserk who remained true to character and shrugged his response. Oh that was it! Ever since she'd revealed to Ivar she'd strayed, he'd ignored her and reordered her to dead last on his priority list. They hadn't made love since before she left almost four weeks prior, but she understood that aspect of their relationship would take time.
To be honest, she wasn't all the way feeling him like that yet either. Especially, since Sheila put it in her ear of the special parting gifts Freydis had left behind for Ivar. They also still slept apart and not once had he approached her to rectify the situation. Not to mention she was also crazy, stupid in love with Hvits. Maybe everything he said about them getting passed her transgressions was just a pretty lie to make her feel better. Well he could save his consolation falsities for Katya because she definitely was not her.
Pissed beyond belief she leaped on the table in a single jump. Then preceded to strut down the wooden structure as if it was a Milan catwalk. Finally, Ivar's glare left the map to sweep to her. His sockets nearly gave birth to his eyeballs upon discovering her on the great table strolling towards him.
"My Love, what is your purpose for this?" He waved a hand at the track marks her heels left on the map in their wake.
"For the past two fortnights you have ignored me, and I've given you your space. Now you've gone and ordered the sacking and burning of our home." When she reached him she copped a squat in front of him. "Do you know what this tells me, Lover?"
His eyes drifted down to the crotch of her mink lined leggings and lingered. "What does it tell you, My Love?"
"It tells me you no longer want space, you want my attention." She placed a finger under his chin and lifted until their eyes met. "In fact it tells me you want all of my attention, so attend you I shall! Tell your warriors they have one turn of the hour glass to have everything in my sunroom back in order or the next thing that will catch fire will be their asses. Are we of one accord?" His eyes slitted, but he nodded. She narrowed her eyes as well as she nodded along with him. "I'm sorry I didn't quite hear you. Are we of one accord, Boneless?"
"Yes, My Love, we are of one accord," he said, while heat leaped from his gaze that wasn't altogether inspired by anger.
"Good, this pleases me." She hopped off the table and strolled towards the throne room door. Before leaving, she paused to look back at him. The entire room of warriors watched with varying expressions of shock, disbelief, and lust on their faces. Yet, Hvitserk's and Ivar's faces were the only ones that nearly sparked a blaze in the crotch of her undie's. "The next time you want to deceive the Saxons, come to me. Flames and dead bodies are nothing in the grand scheme of what I'm capable of." With that, she dropped the proverbial mic and walked out.
For the rest of the rising she supervised Ivar's personal warriors as they put her sunroom and the rest of the castle back to rights. By the time eve fell, she decided to forego second meal in favor of getting laid with her bed. However, when she moved to excuse herself, Thomas told her Ivar wanted to see her in his private quarters. Though she knew what was coming, she decided to attend him anyway. If she allowed herself to be real with herself for only a moment, she'd admit she missed him. Even the little time she'd saw him and Hvits earlier that day was enough to hype her for the rest of the rising.
So while faking agitation she made her way to Ivar's room. There, she discovered the door slightly ajar. The glow from the candle lights drifted into the hallway. She approached the opening, and lightly tapped.
"Come in, My Love," his voice floated to her from the depths of the room. "There's no cause for you to announce yourself before entering."
She walked into the room stunned to discover a bath drawn in the clawfoot bathtub. Second meal prepared and waited for them in his private dining area in the far corner, while the furs on his large bed was turned down in anticipation of them turning in. He'd even placed her body scrubs and oils next to the tub for her.
"What's this?" She asked waving her hand at the room in general.
With his cane firmly in hand, he limped over to her. "My apology for neglecting you. It is never my intent for you to feel disregarded. Especially, when you're the only one I hold in the most highest regard. Will you forgive me for my ignorance and shortsightedness, My Love?"
"When have I ever been able to not forgive you anything, Babe?" She questioned as she rested her forehead on his.
He pressed his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. "It is just as well. Now I don't have to spend half the eve persuading you to return your favor." He palmed her breast, before massaging the pad of his thumb into her nipple. "My spies in the Saxons' camp have told me they have a mind to attack at first light next rising. So we all must be in the sewers long before they arrive."
"What?!" She growled, pissed he hadn't spoken to her of this sooner.
"Shh," he whispered as he somehow managed to slip a finger inside of her. A whimper tumbled from her lips as if obligated by currency. "No worries, My Love. There shall be ample time for me to reacquaint myself with your beautiful form long before we must quit the castle for the sewers."
Alfred stole back into the tent he shared with his brother. Confused as to where the Pagans had gone. He'd entered the city of York through the pathway his spies had told him of to see Bonnie. He wanted to warn her of their impending attack in an hours' time. Even plot with her a place she could take refuge until it was safe for him to come for her. Yet, when he entered the city it was sacked, abandoned and overran with rodents. Had Bishop Heahmund's plan to starve them out functioned too well? Had they taken their leave of England and finally sailed back to their homelands when faced with defeat?
"Well?" Ethelred hissed at him in the darkness from his place upon his bedroll. "What shall she do? Will she forsake the Pagans and accept refuge from you?"
He shook his head as if his brother could sight him. "I don't know, she wasn't there. None of them were, they've all fled the city."
"All of them?" An outline of his brother sat upright and blotted out the sliver of light from the fading moon.
"Yes," he said, unlatching his sword from his waist tossing it down next his bedroll. "The castle is abandoned and in ruins. The stench of burning flesh still clings to the air. Rodents must have taken to devouring whatever remains were left behind, for York is overran with them."
"Though I'm disappointed that I won't have the opportunity to slack my blade with Pagan's blood, I must admit I'm overjoyed to see the back of them." He felt his brother grip his shoulder. "Yet, I am sorry about Bonnie. I know you believe yourself in love with her."
At that moment, the entrance of their tent flapped open, and a lantern lit the interior. "Rise and don-," his father's words came to a halt when he saw him already attired. "Alfred you've readied yourself for battle." Pleasure lit his face and resonated within his tone. "Have a look at your brother Ethelred. You should aspire to be more like him. After all, it is you who shall be king when I am no more."
His brother's eyes rolled. "Of course, father." Satisfied with Ethelred's contrition, their father nodded once before disappearing from the tent. "Wake me just before we're to ride out. There's no cause for over preparation when the war is already won," his brother said, laying back down and giving him his back.
"And you're certain it was him creeping away from the city?" Ivar asked never taking his eyes from Bonnie who paced the length of the sewer.
Thomas inclined his head once. "Yes, I'm certain. He quit the city by the means the spy I planted gave him. Why would King Aethelwulf risk sending Prince Alfred ahead as a scout of sorts?"
"Aethelwulf didn't send Alfred. He came under his own volition," he said, clenching his iron crutch tighter than need be.
Confusion scrunched Thomas' face. "Why would he do something so foolish?"
"Because men in love are fools." He spat as he continued to watch his love through slitted eyes. "Send for Thorin the Beast. There's a task I need him to undertake."
Thomas nodded before scurrying away to do his bidding as Bonnie and Hvitserk moved to join him.
"Where's Thomas going?" Bonnie questioned as her narrowed verdant stare tracked Thomas until she could no longer see him.
He slipped an arm around her waist. "Only to see to a few final details, My Love."
"What detai-," A loud cheer thundered from above, cutting her off.
He gave her a gentle squeeze before guiding her towards their designated opening. "Come, we must seek out our positions."
At the opening, he observed the Saxons continuing to carry on unawares of the nature of their true predicament. Once satisfied their position still held the element of surprise, he waved his hand for them to raise the ladders. In their excitement, the warriors began to mutter a few praises to Odin and battle cries. He pressed his finger to his lips to remind them, their victory still remained contingent upon silence. At the first scream of terror from the Saxons, he bellowed the order for attack.
Thorin the Beast appeared at his side, he bowed to Bonnie, then turned to address him. "Thomas says you have a task for me to complete."
Bonnie's gaze snapped from Thorin to him.
"Yes," he tapped his arm and Thorin leaned in. "Find Prince Alfred and bring about his end. This is the only task which takes priority with you. Are we of the same mind, you and I?"
Thorin leaned back and nodded once, then hurried away to complete the Prince's assassination. Bonnie's glare snapped to him. "What did you ask him to do, Ivar?"
He opened his mouth, but his personal warriors lifted him up through the opening. Moments later, Bonnie stood next to him. She skewered him with a glower he found enchanting upon her face, so he returned it with a smile. "Charge!" He roared as he hurled a dagger at a Saxon several paces ahead of them. When his love attempted to separate from him, to protect her lover no doubt, he grasped her arm. "You're with me, My Love."
"What about, Hvits?" She asked as she stumbled along after him.
"He'll persevere. Yet, I…well," He shrugged as he limped through the battle surrounded by his personal warriors. "Am I not the cripple and the one most in need of your protection after all?"
Alfred sighted Bonnie being led toward the front of the city by Ivar. He moved to pursue them and a man the size of the castle's gates stepped in his path with the biggest mallet he'd ever seen. Without even a hint of provocation the beast of a man swung the hammer at his head. When he utilized the sense god gifted him with and evaded the swing, the beast plowed through the corner of a stone structure at his back. Before he could even think to parry the Pagan beast attacked again, leaving him with only time to raise his shield. Which he proceeded to hammer to shards, fragments, and bits.
"Alfred!" His mother's cousin, bless him, appeared at the most opportune time and plunged his sword in the beasts back.
That action diverted the Pagan from the task of reuniting him with his natural father. For the Beast turned and began swinging his oversized hammer at his cousin. Not wasting time, Alfred snatched an abandoned sword from the mud, and then pierced the beasts midsection. This time blessed be the lord the Pagan did fall with the assistance of a small shove from his cousin of course.
Bonnie stood on the bridge positioned over the city's gates next to York. The battle below raged. Yet, since they'd positioned themselves there she hadn't caught sight of Hvitserk. Though, she knew he'd be fine, she still couldn't help but worry. Since she'd fell through time, more than a few things hadn't exactly gone to script. The last thing she wanted was for one of her mates to get caught up in a rewrite.
"I haven't seen, Hvits. Have you?" She questioned Ivar without sparing him a glance.
She heard his long drawn out exhale but chose to ignore him. "Be at ease, I'm sure Hvitserk is well. He's practically untouchable on the battlefield and well you know. In verity, there's only one other I know of who can best him, and it's been Solstice cycles since your so called protector has graced the shores of England with his ships."
She cut him with a glare. "Why are we together again?"
"Well, I could say it's the witticism that our conversations tend to inspire. Yet in the end we'd both know," he placed his hand on her ass cheek, and then squeezed, "that's not exactly the truth now is it, My Love. Hmm?"
"Ivar!" She scolded as his personal warriors seemed to fall victim to coughing fits at the same time.
"Bare not your sword in vain!" Bishop Heahmund bellowed from his perch upon his horse.
Bonnie's glare swung to the Bishop she couldn't wait to put on his back. She squared her shoulders as she waited for her moment. "And you will not interfere, Lover!" She hissed to Ivar, knowing she didn't have to explain. His boy crush was freaking palpable.
Ivar pointed his sword to the warriors and shieldmaidens to the left of them. "Spears!" Following orders their warriors released their spears in to the line of English soldiers, effectively taking out the entire frontline. He laughed and gave her the smile she'd long since claimed as her own. "Perhaps this is why we're together as well." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck.
Pissed from Ivar out maneuvering him, Heahmund trotted his horse over to a downed Sheila and attempted to stomp her to death with his horse. If not for her barrier spell, Sheila would've been just another bloody smear on the muddy path. "That is it! He's mine!" She growled through the clench of her teeth.
At that moment, their warriors retaliated by shooting arrows into the horse that thought to stomp to death one of their beloved shieldmaidens. The horse went down and so did Heahmund. Right under the cursed animal. Wasn't poetic justice a lovely bitch?
"Stop fighting! Stop fighting!" Ivar demanded and Bonnie's eyes rolled. She didn't give a damn what he said. There wasn't any way the good Bishop wasn't going to catch her hands with his eyes, mouth, nose, and wherever else she thought to put them. "Give him my horse! Give him my horse. He's to great of a warrior to fight on foot."
"Yeah, we'll see about that!" She said, before flipping off the bridge and landing a few paces in front of Heahmund. "Give him five or six horses and it won't matter, because I'm still about to bust his ass like he's fresh meat on a Super Max cell block."
"My Love!" Ivar roared from the bridge.
"My God, you're her. Satan's concubine, the Pagan's witch!" Heahmund hissed at her.
"And you're the one who did that to Ubbe's face after he came to you in peace," she said, glaring into his eyes searching out the very spark which made him apart of her despite his chosen path. "All of the lives loss since then, even the ones who met there ends this day. I, mother of all supernatural beings, charge you Bishop Heahmund with their deaths. Had you only taken Ubbe at his word and given him the land Ecbert promised the sons of Ragnar then all of this," she waved a hand over the destruction of their once great city, "could've been avoided. Now you will be made to answer for this charge."
"I do not fear you, Pagan Whore," Heahmund said as he stood and snatched his sword from the dirt. "With God at my side, fear will never thrive in my heart!"
"Don't attempt to bring the Ancient of Days into this. Who do you think gave me leave to deal with you?" Bonnie questioned tilting her head to the side.
He lunged at her, his sword aimed at her chest. She spun away and called for a weapon. A chain materialized in her grip. She'd promised not to kill the good Bishop, but that was all she promised. Before Heahmund even noticed she wasn't dangling from the point of his sword, she flung the chain out and it wrapped around the wrist which held the sword. With a tug of the chain, the weapon flew from his hand and landed at Ivar's feet on the bridge.
Heahmund yanked at the chain still bound around his wrist in an attempt to throw her off balance. Instead, she somersaulted into a handstand and kicked him in the chin for her trouble. Flipping herself back upright, she wrapped her end of the chain around her knuckles, and then proceeded to give him two jabs to the nose. The crunching sound which echoed throughout the courtyard was unmistakable.
Punch drunk, Heahmund staggered. He then managed to produce a dagger from his trousers, with a jerk of the chain and another flick of her wrist she managed to bind his free wrist to his already shackled one. As a hail Mary, the Bishop thought to rush her, she delivered a powerful kick to his knee with the heel of her Timbs. The Blow drove him to his good knee, she took the opportunity to give him a round house to the face. He landed flat on his back in the mud. Not done, the same dagger he thought to stab her with, she snatched from the ground.
Two brilliant aquamarine lights glowed bright within the bloody mess that was now Heahmund's face. "Intercessor." He wheezed.
Her eyes rolled before she slammed the handle of the dagger down in the same place he hit Ubbe. The blow took him out before the referee could even count him down. "He's all yours, Lover. Your great warrior!" She spun around and gave him a mocking bow.
With that said she stalked away. As she rounded the corner of the stone tower, something yanked her into the entrance. When she opened her mouth to protest, a set of familiar lips covered her own as an equally recognizable tongue moved to entwine with hers. A strong pair of hands lifted her so she could wrap herself about him. After she wound her legs around his waist and her arms about his neck, he began to climb the stairs of the tower.
Between the pecks and the light bounce of the climb, her battle lust began to clear. "Hvits, we can't do this again. I was so scared earlier. I thought Ivar had found out about what happened between us and tasked Thorin with killing you during the battle."
"Thorin?" Hvitserk questioned, taking a right halfway up the stairs. "Hjarta, Thorin couldn't kill me even if I remained unmoving and allotted him an endless amount of swings with his hammer. Why do you believe Ivar has set Thorin upon me?" He asked as he slammed the door shut behind her and began ripping away her leather pants.
"He's been behaving strange all rising. Every time I turn around he's sneaking off taking private meetings with Thomas, and just before he gave the charge order I caught him whispering something to Thorin about a task which took priority," she said, loosening his trousers. "He even made me stand with him throughout the battle. I honestly didn't know what to think."
"Try not to ponder overmuch about Ivar. He rarely is ever of the same mind as everyone else." He withdrew a dagger from his shirt and nicked his neck. "Drink, Hjarta."
"Only if you do the same," she said, allowing her magic to open her jugular vein.
"You want me to receive favor from your neck?" He questioned, his gaze fixed on the blood pooling at her throat.
She nodded as she dipped her head to take his throat. "It's the way of mates."
Without further urging, he took her throat. As they simultaneously drunk from each other, Hvitserk thrust inside of her. An explosion of orgasmic pleasure lit her ass up like the time square Christmas Tree. Damn, if she'd only known the blissful side of wrong way back when. Maybe she would've been cheering Elena on from the sidelines like the top flight cheer leader she'd once been. Whoo hoo! Make my lovers brothers! Yasss girl yasss! Go Lena go!
"Now I know why Bonnie and her kin are of a darker hue. Their homeland sun nigh bakes you to overdone," Sigurd grumbled as he utilized the robes of his garb to pad at the sweat pouring from his face.
"Ack!" Bjorn bobbed his own drenched head in agreement. It amazed him they all hadn't burst into flames. There wasn't one part of him which wasn't scorched red and Sigurd appeared as if he'd been roasted on a spit.
"I think it a wonder to behold," Halfdan said while staring at his witch, barely sparing their surroundings a glance.
She gave him a coy smile as she gazed at him from the cut of her eye. "As are you, my King."
Disgust would've twisted his face if layers of skin hadn't already been seared from its surface.
"I've told you before, my beautiful Seer. I'm no king and neither do I want to be," He said, glancing from her to squint at the sun.
"And I've told you, your kingdom lies within my heart. Therefore you'll always be a king to me…my King." She angled her lumpy beast closer to him, and then leaned over to caress her mouth with his.
Halfdan's pigment reddened even more in hue as he dipped his head to shield his face. "And yet it is I who discovers endless pleasure in serving you." Bjorn heard his friend mutter.
Despite his strong loathe for the woman, it gladdened him to know his friend was content in his affections for her. Perhaps the All-Father would bestow upon him the kind of union his father shared with his mother before Aslaug bewitched him from his family. He'd once believed Bonnie to be the answer to all he wanted. That fate and time itself had sent her to him. Now he knew the right of it. For fate had taken her away and time had changed his heart. If two paths are truly entwined, then their walk will never asunder, and their affections will never refashion or fade. This is what he believed!
"There is a great distance between us and the sea. When do you think we'll arrive at Emir Ziyadat Allah's trade center, Sinric?" Sigurd asked with his gaze fixed on Euphemius and Kassia.
"It is unclear, these sorts of trade centers often changes locus. The sands of Alkebulan are ever shifting. One must shift with them or be buried, Emir Ziyadat Allah will know this well." Sinric shrugged as he returned his gaze to the sandy path ahead. "He could be a moments time from here or several new moons away."
"Well it's my belief, it'll be foolish to trust the false nun," Halfdan's witch added in a lowered voice. "Should we make this grave error, Euphemius' fate will be ours as well."
Halfdan turned a concerned eye to her. "You've seen this, my beautiful vision?"
"He sealed his fate the moment he agreed to come here," the witch nodded her head in Kassia's directions, "And she knew this all too well."
"I refuse to perish in these gods forsaken lands without casting my gaze on Bonnie once more," Sigurd growled through the clench of his teeth.
Halfdan flinched at the sound of Bonnie's name as his witch fixed her empty stare on a distant point. Sinric appeared more than a little interested. He actually looked to be engaged.
Bjorn released a long suffering sigh. "No one will perish. Am I not the only one here who realizes Halfdan's witch is sightless in her third eye? She's sees nothing of our fate and knows even less!"
"I am nigh sightless in my third eye, Ironside! Such a distinction should be observed rather than overlooked," she corrected as she pointed her nose towards the heavens. "For I see well enough to know your heart misleads itself from one moment to the other. You believe yourself unmoved, that the love which once filled you to nigh bursting is no more." She laughed as her narrowed stare fell back to him. "You're a fool to deem such musings to be true. You'll know it as well when you and her eyes meet next."
Sigurd snorted and he scoffed as disgust snatched his face away. The woman grated on him. She knew nothing of his heart or of the forthrightness in which it guided itself.
Sinric chortled, while his gaze swept from the witch to him. "I think I shall favor meeting this woman who inspires such spirited discussions even as an entire sea maintains her absence."
"Sinric, you must know Bonnie's no mere woman," Sigurd said with a witless grin ripping at his face, while Halfdan once again appeared over effected by just the sound of Bonnie's name.
"Yes, yes," Sinric waved him off. "I've heard it told, during my travels in Frankia and even along the Silk Road. A new goddess amongst our people has been born. A goddess even greater and more powerful than the All-Father. She's been named the most high of our religion. The Supreme to our people."
Sinric's declaration of Bonnie captured his attention. He understood talk of her being spoken in Frankia. For the power she displayed in Rollo's throne room would appear astonishing to those who didn't know of what she was capable. Yet, the Silk Road?
"She's not Supreme to only your people!" The witch hissed at Sinric. "She's my Supreme as well. In verity, she's Supreme to all super natural beings and affairs."
Ignoring her, Sinric leaned forward on his lumpy beast. "Is there any truth in the Sagas of her bestowing great power upon Odin during the first battle in the Great Heathen War?"
Bjorn groaned and his eyes rolled. The All-Father is struck by lightning of his own making and now everyone believes Bonnie imbued him with great magic.
"The sagas has the right of it. I was fighting at Odin's side when Bonnie filled him with the mystical energy which allowed us to defeat our hollowed enemies," Sigurd boasted as his grin did the impossible and doubled in size.
Disbelief and excitement stretched Sinric's eyes wide. "What of the sagas which speaks of her using her great power to make the youngest cripple son of Ragnar, Ivar the Boneless, walk?"
"What?" His face scrunched despite the excruciating pain.
A scoff motivated by sheer doubt burst from Halfdan's mouth. "That's impossible!"
"Not impossible…it's Bonnie," Sigurd said, fixing his troubled gaze ahead.
"My friend who just joined our caravan two rising past wintered in York." Confusion angled his head slightly to the side. Sinric lifted a brow and slowed his speech as he offered an explanation. "It is the capitol of Ivar's kingdom. He established it as such early on in his pursuit and conquering of England."
He and Sigurd exchanged glances. "Ivar's kingdom?"
Sinric began to laugh, but abruptly stopped when he realized no one had joined in. "Well surely you must know, Ivar has conquered nigh all of England. Only a small rebellion once part of the Wessex kingdom still holds out."
"And what of Ubbe and Hvitserk? They just allowed your younger brother to assume command?" Halfdan demanded as he swung his glare to him.
Still wide eyed, Sinric shifted his gaze between the two of them. "I'm uncertain of what has become of Ubbe, but Hvitserk the Berserker is high commander of Ivar's army. He implements the battle strategies Ivar fashions. It has been spoken, there is no warrior who's ever stood against him on the battlefield and remained on Midgard to sang the Saga."
"Ack!" He waved off such nonsense as his younger brother being a warrior possessed by the gods. Hvitserk, of all his brothers! The one who was too timid to exist outside of Ubbe's shadow.
"What word does your friend bring of the news in Ivar's city of York?" The witch questioned, appearing all too intrigued with the line of conversation.
"Well," Sinric leaned even further off of his beast and he was undone the little man had not yet tumbled into the sand. "Einar said Ivar was readying for the final battle against the Wessex King. Almost a Solstice cycle before he sailed Hvitserk managed to recover Ivar's betrothed from the Saxon Princes who'd absconded with her. Yet it's been spoken, she may have sought her leave quite willingly. Einar spoke of a scandal involving Ivar and a slave-,"
"Ivar's betrothed?" Halfdan asked bringing his beast closer to Sinric's. "To whom?"
Annoyance ruffled Sinric's brow. "To the Supreme of course."
"Bonnie's agreed to enter matrimony with him…Ivar?" Halfdan demanded, his voice slightly climbing in volume. "Why would she do that?" The Black's gaze whipped to him. "Do you believe he in some way forced her to agree to this?"
Sigurd spared him a pitying look they often gave their addled warriors.
Sinric shrugged. "I don't perceive why he would have to, Einar has spoken much of the love, passion, and lust shared between those two. He believes there's no end to it. He says they sometimes go risings without taking leave of their private quarters. And that their cries of pleasure can-,"
"Enough!" He bellowed, sure his ears were but mere moments from bleeding. His beast cavorted a few paces to the side. "I no longer wish to hear of Bonnie and Ivar. We've our own adventure ahead of us. Can we not be minded of this?"
Bonnie lay on her stomach in bed in she and Ivar's personal chambers watching the Last Kingdom on Klaus' displaced sixty-two inch flat screen. It had been several risings since they'd defeated the Saxons and she'd allowed Hvits to beat it up in the Tower, because what they'd done was too nasty to be recognized as anything other than freaking fight night. Now he had her around there backless and feeling even more guiltier than before they crossed the line again. Not to mention he'd also snatched her paranoia level into the fucking stratosphere.
Every cryptic phrase or sly remark out of Ivar's mouth kept her on edge and convinced her that he knew something, if not all. That's when he was around. Ever since she'd captured Bishop Heahmund, he spent all his time in the dungeon with his boy crush. And if he wasn't there, he was locked away in his throne room plotting another victory no doubt. She'd barely seen him since the battle. A sigh crept from her mouth as her gaze inched over Uhtred of Bebbanburg. Why wasn't she dropped in his reality? The hand on her belly began to slide south. Mm, the things she would've loved to have—
"My Love?" The sound of Ivar's voice snatched her from the edge of an Uhtred assisted suicide. "Has my neglect been so unbearable that it has forced you to imagine being touched by the misguided Saxon who believes himself Viking?"
She waved her hand and the show paused. Disgusted with herself and even more disgusted he'd caught her, she sat upright. "So you're aware you've been neglectful?"
"It is not my intent to be," He sat on the foot of the mattress and leaned his iron crutch against the edge. "I've been diligent in interrogating our prisoner."
"You mean fan girling," she muttered as her eyes rolled back to the paused screen.
His brows scrunched. "Fan girling?"
"What do you want, Ivar? What's caused you to suddenly remember you have a fiancé?" She snapped, folding her arms across her chest.
He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. His gaze shot to the television and narrowed. "Have you progressed in the saga without me?"
"Was I supposed to wait for you to deem me worthy of your presence?" She waved her hand, and the scene on the screen resumed.
He tapped her thigh, and then gestured towards his booted leg braces. She allowed her sorcery to remove them. "You vowed not to watch the treacherous Saxon without me," he said as he lifted his legs onto the bed and slid closer to her.
"And you vowed to never put me in a position where I'd have to watch it alone," she said without taking her eyes from the screen. "You shouldn't take this time we have for granted, Ivar. For I won't always be at your side to neglect."
He place a palm to her cheek and forced her to meet his gaze. "Where will you be if not at my side, My Love?"
"There's still a vow I must keep and unless Bjorn agrees to release me, there's nothing neither you nor I can do about it," she said meeting his stare head on with an unwavering one of her own.
"But…" Fear crept into his usually fearless expression. "But it's been Solstice Cycles since you've seen him. If the vow still bound you both, would you not be at his side now?"
She shook her head. "Not if he doesn't wish it. For if ever there was a moment within his heart when he truly longed for me to be at his side, then nothing could've kept me bound to these shores. Not Ubbe, Hvitserk, or even you. And that's the true nature and power of our vow. It can only be broken if we're in agreement of doing so."
"And if one of you should perish?" He asked in his soft undisturbed tone as he stared off into the distance at nothing.
She scoffed. "Well that's neither here nor there, seeing as I can't be-," Then understanding folded her up and pile drove her. Her eyes flared. "Ivar, nooo-,"
"Hvitserk, don't linger in the entrance. Come in and close the door in your wake," he said as his gaze went from distant to reproachful.
Her disbelieving eyes shot to the entrance of the room in time to see Hvitserk shutting the door. She almost regurgitated her heart. Hvits stood in the center of their bed chambers gawking at the television. The jig was up! Ivar knew and he was playing them like pawns on a chess board.
"What wonder is this?" Hvitserk asked as he inched towards the TV to poke a finger at the screen.
Ivar smirked at his brother's ignorance. "It's how my love entertains herself when her mind and hands are idle. Come sit, it's quite amusing when you become use to the oddity."
"Ivar, perhaps Hvitserk-," she began.
"Heahmund is demanding to speak-," Hvitserk cut her off.
"I have not a care for what the Bishop is demanding. Did we not win the battle, hmm? Is he not our prisoner?" A muscle flexed in Hvits' jaw as he nodded. "Then his demands are unimportant to me. Come sit and witness as a Saxon feigns at being Viking."
"What?" Hvitserk's face twisted as he moved to sit on the other side of the mattress. "Who would believe such a sight?" Bonnie dipped slightly towards Hvitserk as his weight bore down on the bed. He placed a hand at the small of her back. "Many apologies, Hjarta." She nearly swallowed her tongue when he pressed a kiss to her neck and climbed all the way in bed to watch the show.
"You'd be amazed of the foolishness this saga would have you believe, brother," Ivar replied, while resting his hand on her upper thigh as he too snuggled into her side. The hell? "Recline, My Love."
Ivar tugged her until her back collided with the mattress. Once she lay between them on the bed, they scooched closer until they had her wedged in tight. Then they both proceeded to watch the series as if it were the most normal thing in the world. After the first couple of episodes the novelty of being trapped in a Lothbrok sandwich wore off, especially since they paid more attention to the show than her. Yet, it didn't bother her. Hell, she was right there with them. Aside from Vikings (Of Course!) the Last Kingdom was one of her favorite period pieces.
Halfway through season one however, is when the evening took a turn for the strange. Hvitserk's hands began to roam. Roam in areas which should've been off limits to anyone other than her betrothed. His hands refused to remain out of the no-no squares. No those hands went deep diving exploring as if Ivar wasn't laying on the other side of her. As bold as he pleased, he ran his hand up her inner thigh and started to massage her clit through her thongs. The shock and pleasure of his actions had her at a standstill. She almost didn't notice when Ivar reached inside her nightie to withdraw her breasts.
She inhaled. "H-H-Hold up…w-w-wait…what the hell's happening right now?" She demanded, swinging her head back and forth to peer at the two brothers who stared at her as if she were the crazy one.
Ivar dipped his head and took possession of her mouth. He tongued the hell out of her before pulling away. Hvitserk took advantage of her distraction and stroked her clit until she was close to purring.
"Isn't it obvious, My Love?" He breathed out as he broke the kiss. "Hvitserk and I are going to plow you if you're willing."
Her mind imploded. All thoughts came to a screeching halt upon hearing those words. "B-B-B-But…Th-Th-This is Hv-Hv-Hvits! Your brother! We can't do this with your brother!" To be sure, she lowered her voice and leaned forward. "Can we do this with your brother?" Ivar opened his mouth to answer, and sense returned to her world. "No, no, no! We can't! It'll be wrong…so wrong."
"Who's to tell us what's wrong if everyone here is willing, hmm? Or is he not the brother you wish was lying next to you?" Ivar demanded as he palmed one of her breasts and began to roughly knead it in the way which drove her bat shit. "You know Hvitserk loves you as much as we all do. Can you not feel even a fleeting affection for him, My Love? Can you not offer yourself to him as you do me?"
Her heart quaked to pieces in her chest. Is that what the brothers all assumed? That she favored Hvitserk least of all. It wasn't true! Bonnie knew she'd not been the most kindhearted, receptive, or even attentive when it came to Hvits, but that was only because she never knew how to take her strong feelings for him. Hell, she didn't understand why she had such affections for him in the first place. She feigned indifference because she called herself faking it until she made it, but she'd only managed to turn the favored self-assured brother into a man who was never quite sure of himself. Liquid pain touched the ducts of her eyes.
"Yes," she nodded her head as she whispered.
"Do not tell me, My Love," Ivar pressed a kiss to her lips. "Show him."
She rolled over and climbed on top of Hvitserk. He stared up at her with the same expression he always wore, unassuming expectation. Like he was content to wait to be acknowledged by her. She dipped down and plunged her tongue into his mouth. He moaned into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her.
When she pulled away she stared deep in to his eyes. "You are my heart you, Beautiful Berserker, and I love you with every drop of love I have in it. Tell me you understand that, baby."
"This is something I am now beginning to become aware of, Hjarta," he said, his eyes taking on a suspicious shine as well.
Ivar latched on and tongued one of her nipples before releasing it from his mouth with a resounding plop. "This is something that hasn't gone unnoticed by me either and I must say it gladdens me to know fate has tied our paths as one."
"Well do you know what hasn't gone unnoticed by me?" She asked as she ground her center into the bulge in Hvitserk's trousers.
"What's that, My Love?" Ivar asked in a lust thickened voice as he reached down to massage the erection lengthening down the leg of his pants.
"Neither of you are stripped bare and ready to be mounted," she said, flicking her glare between the two.