Dripping water met Guthrum's ears from somewhere in the distance. English soldiers forced he and his family through a narrow corridor buried underneath the castle. Since reaching the shores of England two risings pass, they'd all been bound in chains. Now they were to be imprisoned until the king of Wessex decided their fate. Heahmund led their procession into confinement. Every so often he glanced over his shoulder and offered them looks of reassurance. More or less he attempted to convey his loyalty. If not to them, then to Lagertha whom still appeared to have faith in his allegiance.
Not long after they'd entered the bowels of the kingdom, the soldiers concluded their trek at a locked door at the end of the passageway. The inside of the large room consisted of four walls made of stone. Loose hay lay strewn over the dirt ground. The stench of piss and dung tainted the air. When his stepfather cast his gaze about their surroundings, his face took on the hue of fresh blood. His veins nigh burst from his forehead and neck. Lagertha settled a pleading eye upon him. The muscle in his jaw twitched, but he held his tongue.
Once the soldiers liberated them of their chains they sought their leave. After Heahmund said a final goodbye to Lagertha he moved to follow the soldiers out, but Guthrum stepped in his path. The Bishop's nose nigh scraped the ceiling of the keep as he tried to stare down the length of it at him.
Unmoved by Heahmund's annoyance he stared back as he drifted closer. "When you seek your leave of this place do you believe you'll attend King Alfred?"
"Yes, it is likely I shall have an audience with the king," Heahmund narrowed his stare upon him. "Why do you ask?"
"When you speak with King Alfred please tell him I have a message from the one you refer to as the Intercessor?" He said, refusing to reveal anymore.
Heahmund's eyes narrowed to nigh closing as he scrutinized him. After a moment of consideration the Bishop inclined his head once, and then spun on his heel to search out his leave. Upon the slamming of the plank door Bjorn gave himself over to his anger. The room on a whole descended into madness. Everyone spoke at once. Well, everyone except Sigurd who'd begun to slam his fists into the cement walls. Guthrum left the rest of his family to ponder the right of their situation and joined Sigurd in the corner.
Without acknowledging his presence the Enforcer/Confessor began to unburden his mind. "What if Bonnie is not safe with Boneless? Ivar is a murdering bastard on any given rising and unfathomable when provoked. Though I know she can't be killed, the same can't be said for her babe." He slammed his clenched hand into the stone once more. The wall shuddered. "I never should've heeded any of your counsel. I should've went back for her."
"That was not Bonnie's will," he insisted in a quiet voice.
Snake in the Eye spun on him. "How can you be so minded? You've only just become one with her!"
"I think it best if she speaks for herself." He tugged one of the letters from his tunic and held it out to his uncle by marriage. "This is for you."
Sigurd took the letter and eyed it with crumpled brows. "What is this?"
"It is her will in her written word." Guthrum turned to give his uncle privacy. A hand on the arm, however, halted his departure.
Sigurd shook his head. "I cannot read this," he uttered.
"She spelled the letter so it would translate to our hand," he assured.
Sigurd's head swung from side to side once more. "I cannot read at all." He held the letter out to him. "Will you read it to me?"
Guthrum nodded before taking the parchment from his grasp and reciting Bonnie's words to him.
My Devoted Savage,
Thank you for deciding to love me, protect me, and become one with me. I've never had anyone choose me first, over all else, and consistently the way you've done since I've arrived upon your shores. No matter my wrongs you always remain ever faithful at my side prepared to eat my sins and slay my demons. So I know my request to be left behind is especially hard on you. You must, however, understand I don't blame you, Sigurd. None of this is your fault. It's no one's fault. This is simply a path I must travel alone for now. Though it tears me apart even as I write this, there's one final thing I need to share. I sense it'll be many solstice cycles until we're reunited.
You have a purpose in England which must be completed. Many of Inadu's followers still infects that land. As my One you are an extension of me. My inferred will that should be enforced by any means necessary when it comes to ridding Midgard of her tainted influence. If we're to claim victory during the last battle, it's imperative you succeed in this endeavor. As much as this pains you, please know it breaks me to lose you when I've only just reclaimed you. Yet I'll carry on because I know each rising I do it'll bring me closer to being back at your side. Until we meet again know my love is with you even when I'm not.
Forever Your One,
Valkyrie
Ivar cast his sight over the great hall. Almost out of wont his gaze swept towards the doors every time they opened and someone entered. He told himself this was because he'd meant to remain aware in all instances. Yet something forbidden within disregarded this reasoning. Instead its uttered response claimed he waited. It claimed he waited for…her! Hmm, how wrong this forbidden thing was in its notions. For he'd never wait for her again.
Ivar's stare moved to the beautiful English rose at his side. She'd make a fine queen of Kattegat. Though Freydis held not one attribute over Bonnie, and she often overreached in her ambitions, he'd discovered steadiness in her consistency. After the constant unsureness of loving his Betrayer he now appreciated such things.
His soon to be wife offered him a smile when she noticed he watched her. He returned her smile, and then moved his gaze to Hvitserk who sat drinking with Harald. His brother appeared more engaged with his tankard of ale than his companion, while his ever lingering ally looked to be distracted or perhaps deep in thought.
Before Ivar could consider Harald further the door opened. Soldiers entered. They were his personal warriors whom he'd sent in pursuit of Lagertha's party with the locus Rollo provided. Without delay they marched to him. The people who moved about the hall parted to offer them a path to his throne.
When they reached him, Gram stepped forward to speak. "By the time we arrived the keep was abandoned. Only one remained and she'd been slain by the absconders."
His head tilted as a hint of a smirk dallied with his lips. "She?"
Gram glanced to the warrior to his right and nodded. The soldier turned to seek his leave of the hall and another followed. Confusion buckled his brows as a calloused palm covered his. He glanced over to his betrothed and she offered him a smile. An icy burn flamed his chest. Though the feeling chilled him to his depths, it wasn't altogether displeasing. In verity, it mystified him. It filled him with a dark yearning. He covered her hand with his other. Moments later Gram and the other warrior returned carrying the now dead. The woman appeared to have once been a slave. Not the former usurper queen of Kattegat. They discarded the tattered clad body on the floor before him. An ax protruded from her chest even as her eyes remained wide, fixed, and accusing. Utterances, hisses, and several caught breaths filled the hall.
"Isn't this the woman who spoke to us before the last battle?" Harald rasped, rising from his seat at the long table to gain a closer inspection of the woman.
"Margrethe," Hvitserk slurred without tearing his gaze from the tankard. "I could've loved her once. If a bitch had not bewitched my eyes, heart, and mind."
Ivar's face crumpled. The stench of the wench harried him more in death as it did throughout her meaningless life. He waved a hand and Gram saw to Margrethe's final removal from the halls of Kattegat. After they carried the slave girl out, his scrutiny returned to Harald. The King of Vestfold once more appeared preoccupied with his thoughts.
"King Harald, I'm told by my warriors you've visited with our former Supreme rather often as of late," he said, lifting Freydis' hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.
"Yes," Harald lifted his chin to regard him, "she is my sister by marriage and carries my brother's babe in her womb. Of course I visit with her. Why is this concerning to you?" He demanded as his glare pointedly strayed to Freydis and back to him.
"Hmm." A shell of a smile crested upon his mouth, while frost bit his eyes. "This does not concern me. I only mention this to learn of her present state. Last time I cast my gaze upon her she didn't appear to be well."
"Bonnie is quite well!" Harald barked.
"Bonnie?" A single brow rose to greet his hairline. When had they become so familiar? Harald held his ground, glaring back. Not quite leveling a challenge, yet neither shying away from one. "Hmm, well it pleases me to hear this news. Now I may proceed with my plans." He moved to the edge of his throne and struggled to stand. Once he discovered his footing, he began, "People of Kattegat, it seems you shall have your queen in three eve's time. For Freydis and I shall enter into matrimony upon Frigg's rising."
Reluctant cheers met his news and their perfunctory skols burned his pride. He moved to retake his seat, and Freydis beamed at him. Though she would never claim his heart or desire, she may always rely upon his loyalty. The honor he'd bestow upon her would fill the absence of his love.
For the next few turns of the hour glass he rained his attention upon her. To his surprise he discovered himself thoroughly engaged by her until Gram alerted him to Hvitserk's drunken form stretched out across the long table. His eyes rolled as he pressed a kiss to Freydis' wrist and pulled away. He waved at Gram to wake the drunkard.
Gram stirred Hvitserk with a gentle hand. The slight movement startled his brother so he rolled off the table onto the planked floor. Freydis snickered, but she was the only one who dared to laugh. Hvitserk climbed to his feet, staggering a bit afore discovering a steady footing. Once up he glared at Gram who in turn backed away with his hands raised in a yielding gesture. When Hvitserk reached for his ax, Ivar decided to intercede.
"Leave him and attend me, Hvitserk!" He bellowed effectively pilfering his brothers regard.
Hvitserk whirled in his direction. His eyes flared and narrowed as he attempted to focus on Ivar. "You'd do well to keep your personal warriors away from me, Ivar. For it'd be a pity if I begin to look to them to hold my amusement."
"As of late, it does not take much to hold your amusement, brother." He shrugged as he taunted Hvitserk with a cutting tone and a spite inspired smirk. "A filthy whore, chipped cup, and a tankard of sour ale will keep you engaged well into the next rising."
Hvitserk's laughter swayed his staggering frame from side to side. "While the illusion of power and the pandering of a former slave whose sheath has known the plunge of many pricks appears to yield you the same level of distraction. So if we're aware of the other's amusements, why must we pilfer away grains of sand in the hour glass on the discernable?"
"Bastard!" Freydis hissed.
Hvitserk's shoulders rose and dropped. "Whore."
His betrothed's breath caught as suspicious clearing of throats and coughs moved about the hall. The casting away of knowing gazes around the room wrenched Ivar to the edge of his seat to level his degenerate brother with the full girth of his displeasure. "Hvitserk!"
"Many apologies, Boneless," his brother offered him a bow which held more scorn than contrition. "I believed we were still stating the observable."
"Hvitserk, you think these acts you commit each rising misleads me? No." He goaded, waving a hand at the slovenly mess which had become his brother. "For I know the true reasons for your actions. You're not as indifferent to our betrayer as you would have us all here believe."
A bit of the Berserker flickered in his brother's gaze. "I care not what you believe, Ivar. Just as I have no care you've chosen to enter into matrimony with a once Saxon whore that most here has known many times before better than you…myself included."
Hvitserk's words narrowed his glare further. "You go too far."
"No, this is a course you've set, Brother. I'm merely offering my opinion on the sight." He waved a hand at them. "You've set your heart upon marrying this whore because you believe our former mate still has a care. That seeing you give your vow to another will rip her heart asunder, but you do this all for naught. For she no longer holds any affections for either of us. Unlike you I'm beyond the site of finding this revelation concerning." With that said, he stumbled about, before finally managing to seek his leave of the hall.
"Ivar, I did not offer myself to any of them will-,"
"Freydis, have we not spoken of this before? There'll be no deceptions between you and I." He tore his gaze from the doors of the hall to regard her. "I know of your plight in York before my ships met those shores. There is no cause for you to attempt to place a well fashioned saga in the place of the truth. I'm more than aware of with whom I've chosen to enter into matrimony."
A gleam polished the azure hue of her eyes. "Oh how I want you, King Ivar," she purred.
"And yet you know well that I can't." Annoyance rolled his gaze from hers.
Moments later his finger sunk into an ocean of warm wetness. His gaze darted back to his betrothed. She offered him a smile filled with secret wonders. "Your prick isn't the only thing which pleases me." She began to grind on his hand. "You have a great many other devices at your ready, My Pagan Viking."
"Hmm!" A smirk took possession of his mouth as he stroked the pad of his thumb over the fleshy nub between her netherlips.
Bonnie stood at the harbor next to Rollo. They both watched as his soldiers loaded the last of his things onto the ships. When it appeared their time together drew to an end they turned to consider the other. After several long silent moments, he spoke first.
"Had Ragnar brought you down from the mountains, I would've stolen you from him," he murmured, all while straight facing the hell out of her. "You would've called me husband and him brother."
A grin tore through her stunned expression as a memory of her telling Ragnar something along those lines flickered in her head. On impulse she threw herself in his arms, wrapping him in a snug hug. "It would've happened nothing like that, yet you would've still been one of my favorite people," she whispered next to his ear.
"And you mine," he whispered back.
After a minute longer of holding him, she released him, and then backed away. "Thank you for delivering those letters for me. It meant more than you'll ever know."
"Doing so was an honor," he said, then his expression turned hesitant.
She grabbed his hands. "What is it?"
"When I married Gisela, I exchanged my faith for hers. Yet I never truly released our gods." His grip on her hands tightened. "When I pass from this life to the next. It's not her heaven I mean to enter, but the gates of Valhalla I long to see. I know you and the All-Father-,"
She placed a finger over his lips. "Say no more, Rollo. I'm sure Odin would love to see another one of his direct descendants enter the gates of Valhalla. And even if he refuses you, there's always a place for you in Nirvana."
"Why aren't you angry at me as Bjorn and Lagertha? You've lost as much as anyone due to this defeat."
She shook her head as she reached up to stroke his cheek. "We all take turns being the bad guy in someone else's saga. This is something we'll never be able to control. Though what we can ensure is the next time our tale is told we don't commit acts which will cast ourselves as the villain in our own story."
He hugged her once more. "Have a care for yourself and the babe, Supreme."
"Until we meet again, Rollo," she said, stepping out of his embrace a final time.
He dipped his head in a bow, then turned to allow one of his soldiers to assist him on his personal boat. Bonnie stood on the dock staring out at the horizon even after Rollo's ships disappeared from sight. She cradled her baby bump in her palm and damn near pissed her pants when she felt the slightest of flutters in her belly.
"Wait," she murmured as her heart beat a drumline solo against her rib cage, "was that you little girl?"
"So the traitor has finally departed from our-," Harald's words ran the hell out when he looked at her, "What has happened?"
"I think…I th-think I just felt the b-baby move," she managed to sputter between stunned bursts of laughter.
"What?" He rasped in his thirty pack a day smoker's voice. "Let me feel her!" He demanded, pushing her hands away to gently take her small bump in his palms.
"Harald!" she growled, a little annoyed by his bogarding and all around pushiness.
A slight ruffle disturbed the skin between his brows as he glared at her like she'd lied. "I don't feel anything."
"That's because at this stage she's only big enough for me to feel," she said, trying not to take offense of him on general purpose. His stare darted back to her belly. "Don't worry. In a fortnight or so, you'll feel her move too."
He tore his gaze from her stomach once more to stare into her eyes. "Truly?"
"Truly," she said, softening a bit towards him.
They stared at each other for a moment before he spoke again. "Now that you're well Ivar intends to proceed into matrimony with the Saxon. He's set the ritual for this Frigg's rising."
"Then I'll be there in bells and whistles to wish them well," she said, keeping the cement blocks firmly in place around her heart.
His gaze narrowed as his scrutiny crept over her face. "So you have not a care he's choosing to enter into matrimony with another?"
"How can I begrudge him over the very thing I've done?" She questioned.
Yet his marrying Freydis did worry her. His leap over the broom concerned her on fifty-eleven levels. Levels that two stepped far beyond the dull burn of jealousy which flamed her pride. No, the former slave's association with the Hollow offered a shit ton of complications to Bonnie's already rigged to hell plans. What would Ivar's entering into a covenant with Evil's proxy mean for the fate of all supernaturals?
Harald drew her thoughts back to him by stroking circles into the sides of her stomach. Almost as if he sought to make himself her focus. "I've been pondering-,"
"Oh what a sight you two present." Hvitserk slurred as he stumbled pass them toward the dwellings further down the harbor. "I would've never suspected she entered into matrimony with your brother by the way you both carry on. Though this shouldn't take me unawares. She always did enjoy her share of brothers." He threw his head back, laughed and nearly tumbled into the sea. "You should have her take you to the back of her throat, Harald. The first time she swallowed me, I did not leave my bed furs for nigh two risings," he said before literally falling into a dwelling of a harbor woman.
Instead of rage supercharging her, tears flooded her eyes. This proof of weakness further blurred her sight. She felt like a fucking emotional disaster, dropping a tear every time someone dared to prick her feelings. Would her entire pregnancy consist of her drowning in the depths of an ocean of pain on the daily? If so, Hvits and Ivar had made out like escape convicts in a whore house. Bastards!
Ashamed of the sight she knew she presented, Bonnie lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, Harald."
"Sail with me to England!" He barked at her in that demanding smoker's rasp of his.
Stunned and afraid she might be losing her hearing, her questioning stare shot up to recapture his. "What?"
"I've no desire to return to Vestfold and if I remain here Kattegat will soon find herself in yet another war." He swept his glare back towards the long house, before looking to her once more. "You and this babe are the only two people upon Midgard I have a care for. Though your presence often offends me, I fear it would harry my mind more to misplace you from my sight. So you see, you must join me. For whom is more deserving of a peaceable mind than I?" He gave her a little shake when she took too long to answer. "No one that's who!"
Bonnie didn't know if her desire to escape was due to her overabundance of hormones or the fact the love of her existence planned to put a ring on her sworn enemy's emissary. Yet in that moment she wanted nothing more than to greet the tide and meet the horizon. To be off on another adventure with Harald of all Vikings. She needed a change and above all peace to give birth to her daughter. Her brother in law's proposition offered those things gift wrapped with a floppy bow attached. Being with him—to her pearls clutching surprise—gave her good vibes. It made her feel closer to Halfdan.
"If Ivar allows me to do so, then yes. I'll sail with you to England, Harald," her voice shook as the words parted from her lips.
Harald threw his head back and released a battle cry. He snatched her up in his arms and swung her around. As she opened her mouth to protest being jostled, the contents of her stomach came quicker in its clapback than her words. Mid swing into his impromptu celebration he and the dock hands became acquainted with what she'd had for second meal.
Another moan attempted to free itself from the seams of Freydis' and Ivar's pressed together lips. They lay upon the bed furs bare. He'd managed to climb upon her and deliver tongue plunging mouth caresses, all while thrusting four fingers in her sheath. He stroked the pleasure nub in her netherlands with such agile familiarity her thighs juddered and quaked for a girthy conclusion. Unable to continue lying there with him and still not have him drove her into madness. With strength she didn't know she possessed, she flipped him off of her and attempted to mount him. Before she knew what was about, the ceiling and the floor swapped places several times until a sharp pain shot up her hind quarters, along her back and into her neck.
"Freydis, you know my prick is of no use to you!" Ivar glared down at her from the side of the bed. "Why must you insist upon placing us both at unease?"
With a great struggle she climbed to her feet and rejoined him on the mattress. The anger and ache from being tossed from the bed loosened her tongue. "How dare ye…ye…ye shaky bag of bits?! Don't ya know ye could've hobbled me?" Her chastisement snatched his head sideways and yanked his mouth wide. Since she had his attention she continued. "I'm your Supreme, eh! If I say tis so then ye should have faith in me word and have your knob at the ready for a mountin!"
"F-Freydis," Ivar said, while clutching for the handle of his dagger. "Are you well, did the fall somehow addle you?"
Her gaze remained locked on his palm now wrapped around his blade. She'd become too liberated in her speech and set him at odds. Releasing a bit of air, she attempted to once more don her demure guise. "Of course. Why do you ponder such things, my king?"
His scrutiny swept the whole of her. Creases appeared between his brows. "You did not sound as you should afore."
"I merely meant to say," she forced a smile, while cautiously taking the hand that clutched the handle of his dagger. "It has always been my fate to be named Supreme. Since discovering my rightful position with you and your people, I've come to know my true place in this supernatural procession." He scoffed and attempted to look away, but she placed a hand to his cheek to keep his gaze trained on hers. "And yours as well. Ivar you're meant to be far greater than a king. You are meant to be a god and as the Supreme I can give you this."
"I'm meant to be a god?" He questioned, while doubt threaded itself throughout his tone and gaze.
A smile slithered across her lips for she knew she'd roused his ambitions, and the only thing left for her to do was slam the door shut on the trap. "Yes, Ivar. You're meant to be a god, but only if you choose the correct path. Only through me will this ever be a possibility for you."
"Hmm." He chortled to himself as he regarded her from his recline upon a mountain of pillows. "Really, and what must I do for this to come to pass."
"You must forsake your once affections for the dark witch and love me completely." She slid closer to him and placed her hand over the handle of his blade. "And you must also give me a child."
He moved to push her away. "Freydis-,"
"Coupling is not the only way to begat a child, My King." She leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.
He glared at her from the cut of his eye. "What do you mean?"
"Are we not divine, you and I?" She reached over and took the chalice filled with ale from the table next to the bed. "Here drink, I'm in need of the chalice."
He rolled his gaze but did as she bade. Once he drained the chalice, he handed it to her. "Now, the only thing you need to do is bleed for me, My Gracious, God." When she moved to pull the dagger free of his trousers he snatched the blade out of her reach. She raised her hands in a yield. "If you do not yet trust me make the cut yourself."
Ivar tottered a bit as the dagger drooped in his grasp. He still, however, managed to drag the blade across his palm before the potion in the ale took effect. She positioned his hand over the chalice and allowed it to fill the tumbler. Once full, she wrapped the wounded appendage and sat the cup on the nightstand. A smirk tooted her lips as she pulled back the bed furs. The sight which met her gaze nigh snatched her eyes from their sockets. His spindle had burrowed back into his body. He appeared to have an extra navel. Confusion tattered her mind. How could a prick of that size manage such a hideaway?
"Gram!"
Moments later Ivar's personal warrior entered the room. "Have you yet managed to gain entry into the dark witch's keep?" She took her time wrapping her robe about her form, enjoying the way his eyes lit upon every bared inch of her.
"No, her witchery is still quite formidable and Thomas remains ever suspicious of anyone who approaches her lodgings." He drew closer to the bed as his gaze flicked every so often to Ivar. "What of you, Emissary? Have you been able to commune with our Goddess as of late?"
"No! The dark witch's sorcery has somehow threaded itself within this land. Her mystical energy bars the presence of our Hollowed Goddess in this miserable place!" Freydis squeezed her eyes shut, while digging her nails into her palms. Taking a few soothing breaths, she attempted to wave off her mounting anger. "Yet it matters not. Soon Thomas will be of no consequence and the dark which will rest in pieces all about Midgard!" She gestured to the blood filled chalice on the table. "For I've managed to finally pilfer some of Ivar's essence. If what you believe holds true of mystical mates, then the witch's sorcery will welcome you into her hovel without delay." He reached for the chalice and she knocked his hand away. "What are you doing?"
"Only your bidding, Emissary," he lowered his head until his face leveled itself with the floor.
"And what have I bade you?" She tilted her head to consider him. He opened his mouth to speak, she raised a hand. "I've bade you nothing that is what! What would you be minded to do with the blood in such a state and without instruct, hmm? Were you gonna slather it all about you and your men? Hope for the best, hmm?"
"I'm sorry-,"
"Of course you're sorry, Gram…you're also witless and spent!" She held him in the prison of a glare for moment longer before rolling her gaze away and exhaling a weary sigh. "Yet due to the utter uselessness of my betrothed, I still have need of you. Now undress, I wish for you to service me."
"Here?! What of King Ivar?" Gram questioned while turning a fearful eye upon the one they referred to as Boneless for more reasons than one.
"Have not a care for King Ivar, for he has not a pissing ponder for you. He's harried with plots of betrayal at present." She slapped her betrothed in his extra navel and ball sack. "This one wouldn't stir even if the former queen of Kattegat came and perched upon his face. Now, remove your clothes, and this time be sure to get me with child."
Guthrum and his family followed Heahmund into King Alfred's great hall. When they entered the King of Wessex rose from his throne. He moved with haste to the edge of the elevated dais he lingered upon. His gaze darted over each of their faces in a swift assessment. Once his inspection of them met its end disappointment shadowed the brilliance of hope which lit his features.
"I see Bonnie is not among you, then." King Alfred sniffed as he reclaimed his seat.
"What do you know of Bonnie?" His stepfather demanded, challenging the king with his gaze alone.
The king's unwavering stare fell upon Bjorn and remained.
Bishop Heahmund's eyes fluttered at a rapid pace as he inserted himself in the exchange in attempts to halt any further discontent. "Well, you see the Intercessor fought with bravery. Yet in the end Ivar the Boneless was able-,"
"Her betrothed?" King Alfred's gaze hurtled from Bjorn to regard Heahmund. He lifted a hand, "Bonnie went to war against her betrothed with…you lot?"
"Why wouldn't she and who are you to speak her name with such awareness?" Bjorn demanded.
Heahmund stepped to the side and effectively obstructed the King's sight of Bjorn. "The Intercessor swore Bjorn Ironside an oath which entails she always remain at his side."
"Yes, this is true," Lagertha answered. "And Ivar was no longer her betrothed when she fought at our side against him. In verity, she'd entered into matrimony with another who fell during the final battle."
"So where is Bonnie now?" A fair haired warrior questioned from the right of the king. It was the same warrior who'd placed them in chains upon their arrival on England's shores.
"The Intercessor was injured after battle by a mad slave. She demanded we leave her, Prince Ethelred," Heahmund answered, clasping his hands firmly together behind his back. "The Sacred One knew Ivar would not halt in his pursuit of our party if we were to have sought our leave with her in tow." His head dipped a bit to the side as his gaze grew distant. "And since she'd become heavy with child-,"
"How heavy with child?!" King Alfred shot from his throne. His eyes bulged from his head, while his hue could be likened to that of a wraith.
The Bishop not understanding what resided within the kings mind only stared.
"Only four new moons heavy, King Alfred," Guthrum offered to add clarity and lessen the girth within the moment.
The elder dark haired woman to the king's left released the white beaded neck ring about her throat in favor of flapping a hand before her face. Her chest rose and fell in swift cycles as she sucked in gasps of air through flared nostrils.
Pigment returned to King Alfred's cheeks with a vengeance. "This state of affairs is unacceptable! You left behind a woman who is our Lord's sacred spirit upon this land. A sacred spirit who is also with child. Is this what you're attempting to express to me?" The whole of the room remained quiet. The muscle in King Alfred's jaw twitched. "Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls spared the life of my father, brother, and also mine when she rustled us out of York during our first battle against King Ivar and Lord Hvitserk. She then went on to spare my life twice more after that occasion."
"King Aethelwulf never mention-,"
"My father was uninterested in drawing your ridicule and even more so your suspicions," Ethelred sneered at the Bishop.
"I cannot in sound conscience offer you my protection when you have abandoned one such as Bonnie." He lifted his hand, and the guards moved to lead them out.
Guthrum withdrew Bonnie's letter to King Alfred from his tunic and held the parchment out to him. "Before you commit your mind to your decision. I have a letter from an older woman who should've known better." Once again the color drained from the king's face as he raised a commanding hand to halt his soldiers. Slowly, he descended the steps with his gaze fixed upon the envelope as if Bonnie's written word were the only thing which held meaning for him in the hall. Before Alfred retrieved the letter from his grasp, Guthrum added, "All she asks is you read the missive before arriving at any conclusions."
The blade flashed as it entered Ivar's chest. His breath caught. Everyone and thing spun about him. Once again the dream from the eve before flickered in his mind. He could still see Bonnie's dark hollow stare as she ran him through. Even in his awakened moments the unsettling sight insisted upon tormenting him. The smile which twisted her lips provoked foreboding to place shackles upon his heart. He'd never known such fear. Not since she'd broken him to rebuild him.
Attempting to regain a likeness of calm he shook away the vision as he entered the hall. He cut an eye at his beloved and squeezed her hand. Freydis offered him a divine smile. Her nearness brought him comfort in his time of distress. The joyful news she'd given him that rising upon awakening somewhat soothed his unease.
Ivar lifted the back of her hand to his lips and pressed several kisses to the roughened skin there. He then helped her unto her throne, before claiming his. Soon as he sat, however, apprehension took him well in hand once more. For he saw the dark witch who'd plagued his thoughts. Who'd plagued his dreams. Bonnie sat at the great table with Harald. She appeared to be more beautiful than when he first cast his gaze upon her. Hmph, which was more proof of the witchery she'd wrought upon his mind so long ago in the very hall in which they now dwelled. Upon closer inspection, she even looked to have bewitched Harald. For he appeared as besotted as he and his brothers once were when they first beheld her. Unable to witness another fall prey to the serpent of a woman, he signaled for Gram. When his personal warrior leaned in he whispered his order.
"Have King Harald attend me." He then settled into his seat and watched as Gram carried out his bidding.
Moments later Gram informed Harald of his summons and to Ivar's displeasure when Harald stood so did Bonnie. She crossed the hall with his arm wrapped about her waist and his palm resting upon her now even more notable belly. Though Hvitserk feigned indifference, he saw that his brother also watched the pair from the cut of his eye. Furrows burrowed deeper into Ivar's forehead as the corners of his mouth traveled even further south. When they reached him resentment incited him so he didn't even allow them a moment to speak.
He leveled King Harald with the full girth of his glare, while altogether ignoring Bonnie. "Why are you still here, hmm?"
"I've actually made plans to depart these shores after your marriage ritual," Harald barked as pleasure burst from the foolish king's eyes and dared to mock him.
"Hmm." The which swelled within him deflated enough for him to settle back on his throne. "If this is truly so then this pleases me."
"And it would please me if you would allow me to take my sister and brother's babe with me." Harald unwound his arm from around her waist to entwine his hand with hers.
Rage mounted absolute pressure in his head and nigh blew the makings of his mind from his ears. The way Bonnie stared at Harald as if he were the gods' given comfort to her agitated a possessive place within him which still coveted her above all else. Not long ago she'd once regarded him in such a way. Then she'd plunged a blade in his back…or was it his chest?
"Not even if you vow to abandon her to the most blazing fires in the Christian Hell!" he growled as he clenched the arms of his throne. "This betrayer and agitator will remain upon these shores until she births your brother's spawn into Midgard. Only then may you take the babe and depart, but she will remain so she may be met with a judgement for the treachery she committed against my mother, brothers, and myself!" He lifted a hand to jab a finger at Harald. "And if you attempt to thwart my decision I'll see you reunited with your worthless brother who no doubt languishes away in the most iciest vat in Helheim."
Harald reached for his sword, but Bonnie stilled his hand with her own. "It's okay Harald." She then turned her verdant gaze upon him and he nigh melted under the heat of such all-consuming comeliness. "I only wanted to see England once more…To show ou—my baby the place I once called home."
"You are no longer my betrothed and England is no longer your home. No one here has any concerns or regards for your wants!" He nigh came out of his seat to bellow down to her.
Freydis placed a hand to his back and calmness overwhelmed him. "Perhaps, you should cast out this moment of unpleasantness with our joyous news, My King."
"Yes," he settled Bonnie and Harald with a final glare before removing his focus from things which no longer held any import to him. Instead, he turned to attend the hall. "People of Kattegat. I have wonderous news. Freydis carries my son. Soon not only will you gain a queen, but you will also welcome a prince."
As everyone in attendance offered them uninspiring skols, he watched Harald lead Bonnie from the hall. He leaned in to speak with Gram once again. "Have more men follow her. And warn them not to herald to her they're about."
As he pulled away to rejoin the half-hearted cheer of his surroundings his gaze clashed with his brother's across the hall. Hvitserk watched him with an unflinching barren gaze. As if he knew of the battle he waged with himself in regards to Bonnie. As if he knew how much of his heart their betrayer still claimed. Which was impossible. How could he?
A sneering smirk curved Hvitserk's mouth as if he'd pilfered every thought from his head. He lifted his chalice to Ivar. "Skol!"