Qetsiyah's sorcery blew open a set of granite double doors. She marched into the halls of Eternity with tunnel vision. Her heels struck the marble in a methodical clack, heralding her arrival better than sparking pistols ever could. She sensed the agitation and the disapproval of her line. Strife and contention were not allowed beyond the doors due to the power which resided within those walls. Introducing such emotions into that environment would be the equivalent of detonating TNT in a nuclear power plant.
Usually she observed the rules. Hell, she usually enforced the damn things to show the daughters of her line, she'd changed and now walked in solidarity with them. Not then, though. No, for once she ran her side-eyeing descendants no attention. Her gaze remained locked on their blinder than a damn mole-rat resident seer. Whose blindness had blindsided her! How could she not know of Bonnie's impending two-step into motherhood? She felt like a fucking fool to have heard something she should've already known from Silas of all insignificant assholes.
Aslaug reclined with Emily on a semi-circular sectional under the domed sky light. They both appeared to be enjoying the attentions of a powerful empathic musician who'd taken his life at the height of his career and a prophetic poet who was still hailed by the modern world at large as the greatest rapper of all time. For whatever reason the emo musician believed himself to have inspired the name of their now home. Go fucking figure. It was just like a man to steal credit from a woman, and then attempt to apply the praise to himself. Not everything smelled like teen spirit. (Bonnie so did rip him off. Lmfao!)
"Gentlemen, Emily," she greeted through the tight clench of her teeth, trying her damn best to remain civil.
The men gave her a nod, while Emily assessed her with a stare which appeared one part curious and all remaining parts shade. "Qetsiyah," she finally acknowledged.
Qetsiyah's barely tolerating glance shifted to Aslaug. "It's imperative you and I have a conversation."
"Fellas," Emily said without removing her assessing stare from Qetsiyah. "Will you excuse us for a moment?" The men's head bobbed before they rose from the sofa. "And try not to wander too far, there's still the matter of your reincarnations to discuss."
When the men departed, her gaze flicked to Emily, "You can follow suit."
"No," she settled in for emphasis, "I believe I'll stay."
"You're troubled, what has happened?" Aslaug questioned.
Her hands clenched as she attempted to wrestle her temper into submission. "I don't know, you tell me, Seer."
"Qetsiyah, please. Passive aggressive doesn't become you. A solution will be more readily forthcoming if you just get to the point," Emily said leaning forward to reach for a crystal champagne flute on the leather ottoman before her.
Aslaug stared at her. The Seer's gaze brimmed with expectation. "Please…"
Her eyes rolled, before taking a seat next to Emily. She snatched the bottle of Glenmorangie Grand from the makeshift tea table and filled a flute. Wasting no time she gulped down the biting citrusy and vanilla goodness. Emily's upper lip curled in a—you can't take this bitch anywhere—sneer. While Aslaug regarded her with concern.
Once thoroughly buzzed, she began. "It would seem our Supreme is preggers." The news snatched Emily's head sideways. "A few hundred years before schedule."
Aslaug's eyes bulged from their sockets. "Preggers?"
"With child!" She exploded, while refilling her flute. "She's with child!"
"How?" Emily demanded. "Bonnie hasn't grown enough in her role or powers to alter the path you've laid before her."
"I know," she growled before taking another swig from her glass. "I'd hoped someone here could tell me what the hell is amidst." Her pointed glare impaled Aslaug.
Shock flared the Seer's gaze. Her mouth flapped open and closed as she struggled her way through speechlessness. "And you believe me to be aware?"
"You are the Seer, right? How the hell didn't you see this one coming," Qetsiyah snapped, slamming her flute back down on the ottoman. She was too damned piss to sustain a buzz.
Emily turned completely in her seat to scrutinize her. "Are you certain? Because we would've sensed a new addition to our line."
Qetsiyah snatched her glare from Aslaug and leveled Emily with a fully loaded hatemaker. "Yeah, and when's the last time you've even thought to try?"
They glared at each other for a moment before her descended daughter turned away. She rolled her eyes back to Aslaug who appeared to be even more confused than the last time she happened to cast her gaze upon her.
The seer began. "I don't understan-," The colored drained from her face until she appeared to be Japan's next not Geisha.
"What?" Qetsiyah's stare narrowed. "What do you know?"
"It's him," Aslaug whispered.
"Oh my goddess! There is another to be born of our line!" Emily damn near rotated in her seat to regard her with a wide stricken gaze.
Qetsiyah didn't bother to mock her descendent with a—get your shit together—glare. She continued to study their resident Seer. Mentally, she shook her head. Bonnie and her subliminal demands. Didn't she realize Aslaug's third eye needed bifocals?! Markos would've never let a premonition like this get pass him. Damn Silas!
"We didn't see this coming because the path of a god cannot be ordered or altered," she uttered as her trembling hand reached for a champagne flute.
Emily smacked her hand away. "No, Aslaug. You know you're in recovery!"
Not there for Aslaug's twelve step journey, Qetsiyah waved Emily off. "Yes, but Bonnie hasn't fully embraced her divinity-,"
"Our Supreme is not the one to whom I refer," Aslaug said with a shake of the head as her distant gaze lingered only the good Goddess knew where. "It's Hvitserk I mean."
Sigurd stumbled from a shieldmaiden's tent. The taint of sex and bitter ale wafted about him in an odorous tell all. Speaking his sins better than a tongue with a mind for confessions ever could.
"There's discourse between you and I, Sigurd," Bonnie said from a darkened enclosure near a covering across the way. She moved from the shadows into the light. His eyes flared as his mouth flopped open. "And this is not an accusation. For I'm more than aware that I'm the one who placed it there."
She spun on her heel and began to walk away from him. Without telling him to, he followed her. They needed a resolution and they'd need space in order to discover one.
"You're with babe," the ache in his words resonated in her chest.
As she led them into the forest, her head bobbed. "Yes."
"It's not Halfdan's," this statement met her ears in a near whisper.
Her eyes stung. She shook her head. "No, the baby isn't Halfdan's."
"Why would you save me only to turn away from me?" He hurled at her back. She sensed he'd stopped walking so she turned around to face him. Instead of being met with anger, he appeared broken. He sank to his knees. "You should've allowed me to greet my end at the edge of Ivar's ax. The pain would've been nothing compared to your loss of confidence and the agony of your indifference." Bonnie fell to her knees in front of him as she near exhausted herself spelling the area around them for privacy. She swayed a bit. Sigurd grabbed her arms to steady her. "Valkyrie?"
"Although you left with Bjorn, I thought when you discovered me missing you'd come back for me." She whispered though there was no longer a need to. "I thought you'd both come back for me, but neither of you ever did." She raised her gaze to meet his. "Six years Sigurd. For six years you didn't need me, so I find it really hard to believe you're dying without me now."
He let go of her arms to clasp her hands in his. "I nearly met my end at the bottom of the ocean twice attempting to get back to you before I finally gave over and allowed fate to have the right of it. Believe me not, see for yourself." He placed each of her palms to the sides of his head.
She didn't have to access his memories to know he spoke the truth. For whatever reason, her, Hvitserk's, and Ivar's path were meant to intertwine uninterrupted for that moment in time. "I'm sorry, Sigurd. There's been many people in my life who's sworn to be there for me, and when shit is falling like rain they're nowhere to be found. I just thought…,"
"Do not ever liken me to those faithless deceivers from your past. We are one you and I, so if shit ever does begin falling from the heavens I'll be right there at your side braving the muck." A genuine smile stole her lips unawares as she threw herself in his arms. "And also searching for Margrethe. Something tells me if that should ever come to pass she'd be the one to have a hand in it."
She snickered. "And a foot."
"Or whatever limb she could manage," he said, while smirking down at her. After a moment, the levity between them doubled in girth as his scrutiny crept over her face. Unease flared to life in his cool sapphire blues. "You appear unwell, Valkyrie. Shall we give unto each other now?"
Her smile fled her lips. "I'm unable to accept offerings, Sigurd. The baby won't allow me to."
"What?" He pulled her away to search her face. "But you've been making use of your sorcery."
She lowered her gaze. "I know, but nothing major. Only a few simple barrier and protection spells, here and there. I haven't displaced anything through time in weeks."
"That matters not!" Sigurd growled as anxiety made a mockery of his features. "Ayanna said any sorcery expelled required sufficient recompense. If you don't compensate the use of your energy with sorcery then it shall draw it from you until-,"
"I desiccate." She finished for him with a wave of the hand. "Sigurd I'm more than aware what happens to an immortal who refuses offerings. But I don't know what to tell you! She's not feeling the blood. Every time I even think of ingesting it my stomach attempts to leap out of my body by way of my throat." Sigurd stared at her belly with wide eyes. Her brows bunched. "Sigurd?"
His flared stare flicked back to hers. "It's a girl babe?"
"My sorcery believes so," she said with a bob of her head. "All we Bennetts ever have are girls. Can't recall when there's ever been a boy born into our line. Except in that vision I saw of me and-,"
He placed a palm to her stomach and leaned down. "Hear me and hear me well, Little Valkyrie. I'm about to make your mother an offering so she may maintain her strength and see you into Midgard. You will be brave and allow this to happen. For you are your mother's daughter and it is impossible for you to be anything less." He then straightened, withdrew a dagger from his trousers and tore open his wrist.
"Sigurd, that was cute but-," he pressed the wrist to her mouth effectively shutting her up.
She waited for the first drop of him to trigger her gag reflex, but the unique tang of his blood slid down her throat without any issues or resistance. Her sorcery which swirled about her in listless movements, sparked to life and hurtled through her veins to greet Sigurd's blood head on. A tightening in the bottom of her stomach let her know she'd had enough. She tore her mouth away and heeled his still oozing wrist. While doing so she leaned forward, placed her lips over his and gave back what he so selflessly gave to her. His hands roamed over her back as she wrapped herself about him. She pressed against him, wanting to be close to him. Needing to be one with him. It had been so long.
Bjorn gaze moved over Bonnie. She appeared to have regained her gilded glow in his absence. The dark circles which ringed her eyes had faded and she had the look of someone well rested. In verity, just gazing upon her pilfered the air from his body. It always had. Halfdan seemed just as besotted. He clasped her hands in both of his and doted upon her as if she were a crippled babe. Bonnie even seemed pleased by his witless attentions. Ack! He tore his stare from Bonnie and Halfdan to regard his mother who'd just entered the strategy tent with the Christian priest.
When she took her place at the table her stare moved to him. "What is the news from Vestfold? Will they agree to an accord?"
"No." He allowed his gaze to travel over each of the warriors in the tent. "They are in a position of strength and it's a truth they are more than aware of. Harald says when next we meet it shall be in battle."
Halfdan scoffed.
"And what of Rollo?" His mother demanded. "Did he explain his purpose for getting involved?"
"He wasn't there," he answered.
This time it was his mother who scoffed. She then turned her heaven pigmented gaze to Bonnie. "Worry not, Supreme. In this we shall triumph."
Bonnie inclined her head in a nod. "There is no other choice. We no longer have time to entertain such notions as accords and peace talks." She rose from her seat and began to round the table. "Now every available moment will have to be in preparation of battle and learning our adversary. And in order to truly know our enemy we have to become them."
"In what way?" Halfdan questioned as he lingered on the edge of his seat. His gaze shackled to Bonnie as if his sight had been bound by chains.
"By likening your thoughts to his so you can predict what strategies he'll be minded to enact," Bjorn answered Halfdan even as his gaze held Bonnie's.
"And who would know the Boneless one better than you, Intercessor?" Heahmund pandered.
Bonnie held his gaze. "Bjorn and Sigurd. They can tell you better than me what Ivar will do next and that is what we'll build our strategy upon."
For the next couple of new moons they prepared. Bonnie, Sigurd, Halfdan and Bjorn came together to plot strategies based on what they each knew of Ivar, Hvitserk and Harald. To Bjorn's displeasure Bonnie placed contingency plans in the event the opposing army triumphed over them. Yet if she'd learned anything from Elena's slippery when on the run doppelgänger it was how to work the hell out of the alphabet in regards to a backup plan.
Over those risings, she and Sigurd's bond strengthened. They'd once again found the accord they'd misplaced during their six years of separation. She also discovered herself gravitating more to Halfdan. On the training field her gaze searched him out without conscious thought. Whenever they dwelled within the same space, be it while strategizing or simply when she happened to stand too close to him, she always searched for an excuse to touch him. Though they still didn't share a tent, they'd taken to spending many long hours in each other coverings. Halfdan would tell her tales of the Mediterranean and she'd tell him stories of her past. Stories she'd never told anyone other than Sigurd. He even talked to her belly when he thought she slept. Out of all the things he'd done to make her emotions sit up and take note, that one act secured her affections.
As well as things were going among her husband and her Enforcer/Confessor that's how bad her relationship had deteriorated with Bjorn. He barely spoke to her outside strategizing meetings. Which she believed to be for the best. For being the center of his focus never boded well for her and she had no natural or learned defenses when it came to him. So she counted on the indifference he bestowed upon her to keep the longing which smoldered for him in a fading ember state rather than having it returned to its resting state of raging flames. An when his indifference wasn't enough she relied on the pain. The pain of knowing there was someone out there better for him than her. The pain from witnessing him love another the way he claimed he could only love her. And the overall pain of seeing his life move on without her.
"It pleases me to say I believe you to already be carrying," Bonnie overheard Bjorn whisper to the right of her.
A low wisp of feminine laughter greeted her ears. "There is no way you can be sure of this. Though your efforts last eve were indeed worthy of such an outcome, husband."
A scorching heat pierced her chest. Not unlike the dagger she'd drove into her heart to save Klaus. Her vision blurred. Damn her pregnant hormones. It seemed any little thing as of late threatened to turn her tear ducts into fucking Niagara Falls!
"What do you think, Bonnie?" Lagertha's voice sounded as if it came to her from a great distance. "Do you believe our efforts will prove us victorious?"
She blinked. Her breath and words alluded her.
"Intercessor?" Heahmund's voice hurtled towards her.
None of this would work.
Torvi leaned forward and reached out to her from across the table. "Bonnie?"
She locked eyes with the pale blonde for a moment, and then tore her gaze away to regard her Enforcer/Confessor. They stared at each other until she felt a warm calloused palm slip in hers. She turned to gaze up at her husband, before turning back to regard Lagertha.
"No," She said, allowing the word to fall flat from her lips. "Our efforts are not enough to prove us victorious. I must bleed."
"Bonnie-," Halfdan began.
She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it as she held his gaze. His protest halted.
"So you will bleed for your trusted?" Lagertha questioned, hope cavorting just at the edge of her tone.
"No," Bonnie shook her head as she slowly returned her gaze to Lagertha. "I'll bleed for them all. Just as they shed blood in my name, I shall shed mine in there's." The room went from cathedral silent to def con nuclear. Everyone except Halfdan and Sigurd began yelling at once, Bjorn and Ubbe being the loudest of them all. She raised her hands. "Ready our warriors. The ritual will take place this eve after second meal." When she turned to leave, they attempted to protest once more. "I've spoken and my decision is final." With that said, she exited the tent.
"We cannot allow her to do this," Lagertha said, rising from her place at the table to pace the tent. "Doing so could harm the babe." She halted and swung her head from side to side. "And that's a burden no mother should have placed upon their heart." Her gaze moved to Bjorn. "You must speak with her."
"I intend-,"
"Bonnie's mind is set," Halfdan said, not having a care for Bjorn's interference in his wife's decision. "As our Supreme we can do no more than accept and obey her will."
"The Black has the right of it," Sigurd agreed, settling Lagertha and Bjorn with his glare. "If this is what Bonnie is minded to do then no one here shall attempt to sway her from her intent."
"Ack!" Bjorn scoffed as he waved a dismissive hand at Sigurd.
He leaped from his seat over turning it as he went, and then stormed from the covering. His wife abandoned her place at the table to harry his steps.
Lagertha nodded her approval even as concern darkened her gaze. "The safety of her babe is what is best for our Supreme. Losing a child is guilt a mother never pardons herself of and this is the grief I mean to spare her."
"And how will you spare her the grief of the many sons and daughters under her dominion who lives will be loss if she doesn't favor them?" Sigurd questioned settling an unflinching stare upon her. "Soon she shall also go to war with those of whom she's fought, killed, and bled. So save your well-meaning counsel, Lagertha. For there is no end which Bonnie shall greet that won't provoke her sorrow."
Halfdan stood unable to remain any longer. Bonnie needed him and he'd offer her all of him until Fate tore his path from hers. "I'm going to see to my wife."
When Bonnie entered her tent she released the breath she'd held since making her announcement. She placed a palm over the slight bulge at the bottom of her stomach. She'd not only offer her eternal life to keep her baby safe, but she'd do the same to secure the safety of all the children under her dominion. For what kind of mother could barter one babe's life over another? Not her! Her heart wasn't built to prioritize or compartmentalize. It only new how to love indiscriminately without conditions or restraints.
"Why are you so invested in this battle, Bennett?" Silas' voice met her ears before his form solidified before her sight. "We've our own war to plot. This one has already been fought and loss."
A snort flared her nostrils as a disbelieving sneer tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Look around, Silas! My very presence has upset the tapestry of these people's future. Or did you not notice the increase of warriors who entered the gates of Valhalla this time around?"
"Attempting to fix what's already broken will only upset the balance even more." He turned to track her with his gaze as she began to pace. "Come on, Bonnie. You know better than anyone fate can't be altered. What is meant to be will find a way to occur no matter the route it has to take to reach its final destination." He waved a hand at her. "All this you're doing is, well…cute but ultimately for the birds, because it'll be them who'll feast well on the bodies of those poor bastards tomorrow."
She spun to regard him with a flared gaze. "Tomorrow?"
"Shit," Silas hissed to himself.
"Ivar, Hvitserk, and Harald are gonna attack tomorrow?" Her heart began to ram her sternum as she subtracted the distance between them.
He attempted to back away, but she placed a palm to his chest, while visually pleading with him to remain. A sigh crept from his lips as he reached up to cradle her neck in his hands. "Please don't bleed yourself to desiccation for this lost cause, Bonnie." The intensity in his stare nearly moved her to reconsider, but nearly had never once moved a mountain or changed her mind for that matter. When only resolve on her part met his plea, the muscle in his jaw twitched. "Invoke the Infinitude incantation to spell the vessel which will store your eternal essence."
Bonnie's gaze flared. Why the hell didn't she think to do that spell? Her mouth parted to thank him and he faded from existence. Before she could further consider all he revealed the slit of her tent flapped open. Bjorn blew in. He stomped his way across the distance which separated them. Anger shadowed the distressed furrows and creases in his face as he gripped her by the arms and snatched her to his chest. "I'll not allow you to bring harm to yourself, or…the babe you carry." He placed a tentative hand over the one which already covered her belly.
She lifted a searching gaze to his face. What she glimpsed there snatched her breath. "Bjorn…"
"Bjorn?" Snaefrid called from just beyond her tent.
The sound of his wife's voice reminded her why they could never be. She tugged herself from his hold and turned away from him. "Go to her."
"Mystical One-,"
"You heard her, Ironside," The Halfdan's pleasant lilt forced her to make an about face. "See to your wife, so that I may see to my own."
Bjorn looked as if he planned to argue his right to remain at her side, but then appeared to think better of his position. "If you're truly minded to bleed for every warrior within our army then you'll do so without my protection." A weight tied to her divinity snapped. The sacred arm ring he gifted her with so long ago slipped from her wrist. For a moment they both stared down at the symbol of their vow, neither forsaking the significance of what had just taken place. Stooping down, he picked up the arm ring and placed it on his wrist. "I'll not attend the ritual this night." With a curt nod, he turned and stalked from her tent.
Once alone, Halfdan closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. "Are you certain favoring the whole of our army is an endeavor you wish to undertake?"
"How can I ask them to bleed for me and in turn not be prepared to do the same?" She uttered as she rested her head on his chest. Tears trickled down her face as she rejoiced in what she'd gained, but even more so mourned what she'd just lost. A sigh crept from her mouth long in its leaving, "So yes, my husband. I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."
Bonnie stood before the entire army of sons and daughters under her dominion. Zillions of twinkling stars embedded in a sea of deep purple velvet copulated with fifty eleven flaming torches to birth into existence a blazing brightness which rivaled the burgeoning dawn in brilliance. Every face glowed before her in strict detail, etching each of themselves on the walls of her mind. She'd prepared well for that moment. Or as well as she could in her condition. Sigurd had made her a modest offering. Enough to sustain her, but for the sake of her baby not enough to strengthen her magic.
Lagertha approached her garbed in a sheer white sheath that reached her ankles. She cupped a gilded chalice in her hands. The High priestess trailed the queen with raised out stretched palms. A jewel studded dagger rested on the flats of her hands. A rhythmic pound began to sound somewhere in the distance. Moments later the two stood before her. Both women greeted her with a formal bow. Torvi stepped from the assembly of her trusted who stood just to the left of them. The pale blonde moved behind her and removed her cloak. A collective of gasps, awes, and murmurs sounded among the gathering. Bonnie wore a gold diaphanous gown that displayed the best of her Saint Laurent unmentionables.
Lagertha studied her for a moment, before she turned to remove the dagger from the high priestess' palms. She then turned back to Bonnie. "Supreme, is it still your mind to bleed for all of the sons and daughters under your dominion?"
"All except one," Bonnie answered, meeting the queen's gaze with an unflinching stare.
Shock caused Lagertha to fumble the dagger. "Many apologies, Supreme. Did you just utter you'll bleed for all except one?"
"Yes."
"Which one of our warriors have fallen from favor within your sight?" Lagertha demanded.
She shook her head. "None of the warriors here have fallen from favor within my sight."
"Who is the warrior you speak of, Supreme?" The high priestess questioned in a deferential tone.
Bonnie's gaze strayed from Lagertha to where her trusted gathered. "I'm sorry, Jedi."
A ripple of pain disturbed Guthrum's indifferent expression.
"Bonnie, no!" Torvi cried.
She turned to regard her friend…her family. "Forgive me, Torvi, I can't. Allowing him to take my blood would be inappropriate. It'll change-,"
"I have not a care for the idiotic reasons which provoke your unwillingness to bleed for my son! I only care that you do." Torvi growled as if she'd ingested a throat full of crushed stones.
"Torvi, Guthrum is like a son-," She attempted to grab the tiny blonde's hands only to have her snatch them away.
"Yet you're not his mother, Bonnie! I am!" Torvi screamed, leaping way out of character. "And if you don't favor him he'll die. I've seen it! Hvitserk will kill him! I've seen it!"
"Torvi, I swear to you I'll keep him safe. But I can't offer him my bloo-," Torvi slapped the rest of the protest from her mouth. Warriors rushed forward to grab Torvi.
Ubbe hurtled towards them in defense of his wife with his sword drawn as Halfdan and Sigurd slid to a stop in front of her weapons in hands.
"Leave her!" Bonnie's bellow shook the ground.
Ubbe pulled Torvi into his arms all while launching visual hatemakers at Halfdan who in turn watched him with an unmoved eye.
Guthrum eased up to place a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Worry not, Mother. If I'm to meet my end in battle know I do so for my family, home," his sapphire stare moved to ensnare Bonnie's "and for my Supreme. I'm not afraid. For I know in what eternity I shall dwell."
His words only served to wrench more sobs and tears from Torvi. Bonnie wanted more than anything to give into her friend and the only woman she'd ever loved enough to dedicate a piece of her heart to. Yet not even for Torvi could she offer Guthrum her blood. To do so, would unmake every beautiful moment they'd ever shared and turn it into something repulsive…something ugly. And she wouldn't do that to those memories! She refused to!
Almost as if he heard her silent objections Guthrum turned to her. "My faith in you is sightless and without conditions, Bonnie. It matters not what fate greets me on the battlefield. For I'm prepared to follow the steps the Goddess has ordered in your name."
"Jedi, hear me and hear me well," She touched Halfdan's wrist as she moved pass him to cup Guthrum's cheek in her palm. "Because the only fate I'll ordain for you…the only steps in my name ordered for you I'm willing to cosign are the ones which keeps you breathing and hot stepping right here in Midgard. Any other steps telling you different is fake news!" She pulled him in her arms and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "You're not dying tomorrow, Guthrum. Even if I have to rip a hole in reality to snatch your soul back from the other side, then so be it. You're not dying. Do you hear me?"
He wrapped his arms about her in a snug hold. "Yes, Bonsie."
"Supreme," Lagertha called. Her tone gentle, but a firm reminder of what still lay ahead for the eve.
Bonnie gave Guthrum one more squeeze before breaking free of his embrace. When she turned about she met her husband's gaze. "You'll not drink from this cup either, Halfdan the Black."
He studied her for a moment before nodding his assent. A hint of a smile disturbed the complacent set of her lips as she placed a palm to his cheek. Their gazes held. For the briefest of pauses she misplaced herself in his whiskey browns. Love without condition swelled inside of her. In that instance something sparked within her battered heart. She'd been so fucking foolish. She'd wasted four months mourning what she no longer had, instead of thanking the Goddess for the salvation she'd saw fit to return. Bonnie didn't give a damn in which body this beautiful soul now happened to dwell. She loved him and she'd spend the rest of his days showing him so. Balancing herself on the tips of her toes, she pressed her lips to his.
When she moved to pull away, he pressed a hand to the back of her head to hold her in place. He slipped an arm around her waist and lifted her to gain better access to her mouth. Then he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her lips in pursuit of hers. For several seconds they indulged the other until the clearing of fifty-eleven throats forced them apart. Once back on her feet, she settled upon him one final look of longing.
She then turned back to Lagertha and the high priestess. "Continue."
"Your wrist," Lagertha said as the high priestess lifted the gilded ceremonial chalice in preparation of catching her blood.
Bonnie raised her arm palm out. In a swift move, Lagertha pierced the top of her wrist with the point of the dagger and dragged the blade downwards until she reached the middle of her forearm. The searing burn the steel left in its wake snatched her breath. Halfdan placed a palm to her lower back as her metallic red and gold blood filled the chalice. When it almost reached the brim she healed her wound.
Lagertha's eyes flared. "Bonnie this will not be enough for every warrior here. In verity, this won't even be enough for your trusted."
Ignoring Lagertha's protests, Bonnie spelled the chalice with the Infinitude incantation. The incandescent swirl of red and gold bubbled for mere seconds. The magical lifeforce stilled, signaling the completion of the invocation. Weakened from such a consuming spell when she barely functioned on fumes, she swayed. Halfdan's hand at her back steadied her. The ceremonial vessel would remain full until every last one of their warriors received her favor. It took almost all of her sorcery's energy to sustain, but the sons and daughters under her dominion were more than worthy of such a sacrifice.
She gazed at the queen from the cut of her eye. "This will be more than enough."
Halfdan trudged to his tent confused as to where his wife had taken herself. He'd assumed after her show of affections earlier she'd begun to turn to him. Yet sometime during the eve he'd misplaced sight of her and hadn't cast his gaze upon her since. A sigh escaped him. He'd hoped she'd been minded to lie with him this eve before they went into battle on the morrow. Perhaps it wasn't Fate's will.
Once he entered his tent shock nigh laid him low. Bonnie stood within his covering next to a barrel filled with heated water. The look of innocence which adorned her face rivaled that of the tempting sight her well put together form offered. Once more his heart recommitted itself to loving only her.
"Bonnie, what is this?" He questioned waving a hand at the barrel of water, the ale, food, and the many candles which lit his tent.
"Me attempting to be a wife…your wife," she said, moving to close the distance between them. "Will you allow me to bathe and groom you, Halfdan the Black?"
"After," he uttered as his flame of longing became nigh unbearable.
"After?" Her beautiful face tilted just so as her brow climbed a bit higher. "After what?"
The corners of his mouth travelled north in response to her naïve question. After what indeed. He'd waited longer to have her than any other woman he'd ever desired. Now his patience would be rewarded with an end. His lecherous nature liberated itself of the hold he'd bound it in since having his heart ensnared by her. He placed a hand over the slight bump forming at the lower part of her belly. Deliberately, his hand roamed up her stomach over the full hills of her breasts to grasp her throat in a light grip. A gasp swooned from the split of her lips.
The beastly need in him roared to have her. "How do you want to be taken, My Forever Life? With care or abandon."
"B-Both, if you can manage," she said her voice barely cresting above a whisper.
He ripped the front of her ceremonial gown in half to boldly feast upon what lie beneath. "Then allow me to have you without restraint first, and then at some crux during the eve we revisit my attempt to make an accord between the two."