Ivar killed her! He pierced Bonnie's heart with a sword! Who were they now? What had they become? Fury hammered the exacting entity lying in wait within the depths of him. The ancient energy's bellowed response reverberated through his being. It demanded retribution for the one it still considered theirs. Hvitserk tore himself from Thora's hold. Snatching the sword from his sheath, he slashed through a sea of soldiers. At the beginning of the confrontation they'd positioned themselves between him and the thrones. A move which effectively severed his access to Ivar and Bonnie.
Hands, arms, and heads, soared through the air. Each offending body part belonged to Kattegat's soldiers. Torrents of blood sprayed the great hall on a whole. Visiting warriors who thought to defend the king against his wrath also fell with ease. Soon his efforts brought him to the one he intended to send straight to the gates of Helheim. Ivar. He lay upon the ground staring at the spot where Bonnie only moments before stood. Silent sobs shook him, while the watery show of his emotions drenched his face. A spatter of crimson and gilded blood stained the wood planked floor. Another bold reminder of his brother's shameful offense. How many more wrongs would Bonnie suffer at their hands? No more!
Hvitserk spun the handle of the sword in his grasp. With a downward thrust the tip of his steel sought out the center of Ivar's chest. Before his blade could meet its aim Thora threw herself over his brother's body. His weapon halted a scraping graze away from puncturing her back.
"Thora, you will remove yourself!" His biting order slithered from the clench of his teeth as the breathtaking desire to kill trembled his hands.
"Husband, please!" She pleaded. Turning her head to rest the side of her face on Ivar's chest, she cut an eye up at him. "If you do this…if you kill your brother, you'll succumb to the regret that will follow. His death is not your path."
A formidable force slammed itself against his chest. Visions assailed his mind's eye of him impaling his wife to in turn slay Ivar. Bloodlust tore a battle cry from the bases of his lungs.
"You know nothing!" He thundered, before tearing the ax from his waste and hurling it at his brother's head.
The hurtling blade changed courses. Instead of implanting in Ivar's skull, the weapon buried itself in the splintered wooden step nigh Freydis' sleeping face.
"You will not!" The first witch flared into existence across from him.
Refusing to be thwarted again, he raised his sword once more. A gust of familiar mystical energy stalled his blade mid-swing. His confounded gawk darted back to the woman's sea inspired glare. Upon further consideration he realized her sorcery didn't feel the same. Not the way it felt the first time he'd sensed her all those summers ago.
The point of his blade met the floor under the growing girth of his suspicions. Somehow the suggestion of her identity tampered his fury. The mere implication filched strength from his body. "Who are you?"
Her slitted aquamarine stare bore into his. "I know you want to make amends to the Supreme, but you're gonna have to find another way. A better way that doesn't compromise my continued or would be existence!" She lowered a loving but pitying stare to Ivar. The tips of her fingers brushed at his hair, before she kneeled before him and placed her hands on his broken legs. A gilded-sea hued mist swathed his limbs. It entered the splintered appendages and lit them from within as it set the fractured bones to right. Once done the sorcery returned to the hands of its wielder. The woman then stood and her gaze moved back to him.
"Thora's right, murdering your brother is not your path." She faded to nothing. Yet her words continued to echo off the walls of the hall in the wake of her leave.
"Hvitserk?" Ivar tore his glowing blue stare from the place where the first witch had crouched over him. "I don't understand! Was she…was that…"
Beyond confused and far from a forgiving mind, Hvitserk snatched his wife from her place next to his brother. With no clear purpose to order his steps he exited the hall and stalked in a direction influenced more by chance than Fate. Everything around him met his mind in a senseless tangle. Yet something deep within him understood the bafflements which swirled about him.
"Hvitserk, please!" Thora tugged free of his grip on her arm to turn and face him. Pain flooded her stare. "You mustn't be angry with me. I only did what the Goddess urged me to do."
"Thora," he exhaled her name. Guilt for the way he'd spoken to her, and the ever changing beat of his heart convicted him. "I'm not angry with you, My Joy. How could I ever be?" Relief overran her unassumingly pleasing features. He cradled her cheeks in his palms as he rested his forehead on hers. "Yet I must leave Kattegat."
"What? Surely, you can't believe fleeing is to be your path!" Tears trickled down his wife's cheeks. He used the pads of his thumbs to wipe them away. For such a precious commodity was wasted upon the likes of him. "Why? Why do you have to go?!"
"I must raise an army large enough to dethrone my brother. Though it may not be my path to usher him to the gates of Valhalla, his rule here in Kattegat cannot stand." His purpose unfolded with every word he spoke. "Ivar's no longer fit to bear the title of king and if it's not Fate's will for me to remove his head, then I shall take his crown."
Bonnie came to awareness with a throbbing ache at the center of her chest. Shock and denial rocked her mind. Though she'd warned her sorcery of Ivar's treachery the confirmation by his hand decimated her soul. He'd stabbed her in the back to protect Freydis…and for what? To save a babe who'd already fallen into stillness. Yet even if the babe still lived did he really believe her capable of taking the life of an innocent child in retribution? When had his opinion of her plunged so low?
A soft wail whimpered from the depths of her. Her sorcery grieved. It fell victim to Ivar's true nature. The experience treaded close to unmaking her essence. Bonnie's mystical energy adored him. The ancient magic loved every piece and part of him and in return he'd spurned it. Hell, he'd spurned them both. They'd built him up, literally! Provided him with the mystical means and strength to stand. Then they proceeded to dismember, maim, and kill those who rallied against to make him king. Yet in the end it hadn't been enough. For he turned from them to invest in a hollow dream, and the irony wasn't lost on her. Freydis promised to make him a god, but had he remained at her side. Embraced the path offered to him by the Goddess of all, his place in the supernatural procession would've been higher than those he called gods.
He's no longer worthy. Her sorcery seethed.
"No, he's not," she agreed as her gaze swept her surroundings.
Though she resided beyond the veil, she stood in a dining room in Ecbert's palace in Winchester. Judith and Aethelred sat at the table about to eat dinner. Her breath caught. Goddess no! Why now? After everything she'd been through. All she'd lost. Why must she be subjected to that scene? The servants left the room as the conversation between Judith and Aethelred deepened. The mother and son conversed over the noblemen's fears of Alfred being able to fulfill his duties as king. Aethelred appeared earnest in his attempts to convince his mother of the Ealdormen's side for wanting Alfred removed from the throne. Although biased in his argument Bonnie sensed no cunning behind his words. Only genuine concern.
Soon after his first bite, his words devolved into gasping wheezes. Judith stood and bandied about a few excuses she could've kept in her pocket. Nothing uttered, muttered, or stuttered by her could explain away her actions for taking the life of her son. Bonnie never understood such an unnatural act. Not even when Esther attempted to try her hand in filicide. And at that time she'd believed Esther's kids to be originally evil. Now in the wake of losing her daughter, witnessing Judith poison Aethelred was a level of perversity too vile for her to stomach.
"What kind of mother are you?" Aethelred managed to rasp from the constricts of his throat just before falling and hitting his head on a wooden bench.
Yes what kind of mother was she indeed. Sobs jarred Bonnie to the marrow of her bones. How was this fare? She'd fought for Faith! She'd fought even after her enemies had broken her down and bled her dry. Yet when the fight met its end all of her efforts still hadn't kept her baby alive and well in her arms. No, her failure had saw her daughter into an early grave. So why? Why did Fate allow women such as Judith to become mothers, while in turn spurning those with the best of intentions? Did the Seamstress of Paths feel away about her? Was there beef between them she'd neglected to acknowledge? What had she done so wrong to tip the Mistress of Tapestry's loom so far out of her favor?
Bonnie witnessed the elder prince breathe his last breath in the arms of his murderer. Upon his final exhale his mystical essence fled his body. The eternal energy crossed the veil. His form materialized before her. He appeared confused, shell shocked, and beyond damaged. The traumatizing effects of his death would resonate well into his next life. She knew this almost better than she knew the exact shade of Faith's eyes.
When his bulging stricken glare collided with hers recognition crept into his gaze. Before a greeting could split her lips Aethelred filled her arms. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and submitted to the emotions fueled by the unspeakable fuckery that fitted together his beyond fucked situation. She followed his lead and together they wept.
"Did you see?" He forced out between a series of gasps and sniffs.
"Yes," she whispered, bobbing her head as she stroked his, "I saw everything."
"Why? Why would she do this? I always knew she favored Alfred over me. Yet I'd never believe her to…Did she think me capable of hurting him?" He pulled away to stare in her eyes. "I'd never harm Alfred. Though we had our differences, I love my brother!"
"I know." Her head dipped a bit as she held his gaze. She reached up and brought his face to hers until their foreheads touched. "Your explanations are of no use to me. I know you love him, I know. It's something I've never doubted."
He searched her face. After a lingering moment of scrutiny he pressed his lips to hers. The press and weight of his mouth on hers felt familiar. Even the flavor of his kiss sparked light in a dark forgotten place in her mind. A sense of comfort, security and safety enveloped her. Recognition even stirred her essence.
"Bonnie, it's time," a gentle voice said.
Bonnie severed their kiss and swung her gaze to the side. Emily stood next to them. Her expression ever patient. She nodded once before turning back to Aethelred. "This is my foremother Emily. She'll be your guide to your next life." Anxiety ripped at his face. She placed a palm to his chest. "Don't worry, I promise to look after you throughout your following journey. No matter what life you settle in. I'll find you."
A sense of ease radiated from him. The tension in his face relaxed. She kissed him once more and stepped from his arms. Emily gestured for him to walk through a set of open double doors. Doors she hadn't noticed before. A peaceful vibe drifted to them from beyond the threshold of the entrance. Aethelred offered Bonnie a final look of longing. He then turned to do as her foremother instructed. Emily presented her with a pensive stare, before turning to follow.
"Emily?" Her foremother paused to hoist a brow at her. "Who will he be next? It's just…after dying like that…"
"Hmm, it surprises me you didn't recognize him." A small artful smile took possession of Emily's lips. "You must've missed the hint of deviltry in his eyes." Her implications snatched Bonnie's mind inside out. No—it couldn't be! "I'll say this, everything you've become thus far all began with him."
With that Emily walked into Nirvana and the double doors shut after her. Before Bonnie had the chance to offer energy to her foremother's thought baiting words a familiar grunting and snuffling came for her auditory senses. Her divinity thrummed. She whirled about to discover Wilbur racing towards her. Yet it wasn't the huge pig he'd grown into. No, his essence had reverted him to piglet form. Even in death he remained insistently nonverbal and as over opinionated as ever. Just the sight of him lightened her heart. She leaned down to scoop him in her arms.
"Look who's still the master of Shaw Shank escapes. You gave Emily the slip didn't you?" She nuzzled the top of his head with her cheek. "Well I'm glad you did, because I wanna apologize for not protecting you." He grunted and snuggled deeper into her embrace. She shook her head as she began to walk. "No, my apologies are more than necessary. Had I cloaked you with the other animals you'd still be safe in the forest. So for this I'm sorry, Wilbur, and I vow to make it up to you."
The scenery faded from the Winchester palace into the private quarters of Kattegat's long house. Freydis slept on her back in bed, while Ivar sat next to her analyzing the merits of thin air. Distress tore at his features. A whimper echoed from the center of her sorcery. The wails reverberated off the walls of her mind. Her heart still bled for him. She rolled her gaze away determined and lifted Wilbur eye level to her. His wide violet stare bore into hers.
"Freydis is going to give you back the life she stole, and when she does I vow to come for you." She cuddled him back to her chest and kissed the top of his head. "So don't be afraid. For you're destined to be a king."
Several thumps from within her midsection awakened Freydis. Shock froze her as hope quickened her heart. For the first time in a fortnight her babe moved. She'd thought her son had met his end. In her heart she believed her baby would enter the world still. Yet the proof of his life came in the form of kicks. Another thud caught her unawares and she laughed, while rubbing at her side. His unrelenting kicks. Her personal handmaidens swept through the hanging beads on the entrance. Brenna carried her first meal on a platter. Stewed onion and broth, the corners of Freydis' mouth travelled south. No surprise there. What, however, did surprise her was the reappearance of her appetite.
"Queen Freydis, please attempt to consume a little of the broth this rising," Ingrid pled in her quiet tone. "After last eve, I fear continuing to-,"
"Yes, please!" She pitched herself in an upright position. "The babe and I are famished. I also wouldn't mind a dollop of honey to go along with it?"
Brenna kept a wary eye upon her as she prepared setting the small dining table in the far corner. Her thoughts more than not still resided with being doused in steaming pot liquor. Yet the woman feared for naught. That rising, hunger gnawed at Freydis' gut. Even a bundle of squirming larvae wouldn't keep her from guzzling down her broth and savoring the many layers of her onion. In verity such a sight would be welcomed. Protein hadn't dwelled upon her trough without the stench of shame in nigh a moon cycle.
After Ingrid assisted her with dressing and her hair, Freydis crossed the room with haste to seat herself before the scant meal. For the next turn of the hour glass she consumed two bowls. Before she could ask for another a shuffling beyond her chambers pilfered her notice.
"What is happening?" Freydis turned to assess the moving shadows that filtered through the beads hanging over the entrance of her chambers. "Why is there such a stirring in the hall this soon in the rising? Has my husband reopened the doors to the revelers?"
"No, My Queen." Brenna offered Ingrid a pointed sideways glance, before her cowering stare returned to her. "When the Supr—former Supreme's faithfuls learned of King Ivar's deeds against their Most High the lot rebelled."
"R-Rebelled!" She sputtered almost choking on the word.
Brenna's head bobbed. "Yes."
"The king sent word to the agitators earlier this rising. He intends to speak with them at the conclusion of first meal," Ingrid cast more light into the obscurity moving about the long house and Kattegat on a whole. "This seemed to somewhat have appeased the rebellion. For there've been no further attacks on the city."
The news set flames to her pride. How dare they? Those faithless savages not only thought to rip their city asunder. They did so in honor and retribution of the false Supreme! Freydis tossed her ladle back into her trough. She struggled to her feet. When she discovered her footing she quit her personal quarters for the great hall. As soon as she entered the room Ivar's impressive form enticed her sight. He stood before his throne leaning heavily on his iron crutch. The pitiable horde before him clung to his every word.
"During my father's time he gave his ear to the people. He allowed their sound counsel to influence his decisions. This form of rule spoke much of his cleverness." He swayed a bit but managed to remain upright. "Yet in the last several summers since my father's reign the city changed. Kattegat has grown into one of the greatest trading centers in Scandinavia."
"Blessed be the Supreme!" Someone shouted from the back of the horde.
More voices added. "All Praises be to the Most High!"
"Yes!" Ivar's jaw locked and the muscles in his face twitched. He glared into the masses and attempted to impale the skull of the naysaying culprits by sight alone. "Blessings be to my wife your Divine Supreme. However, due to the growth which has taken place upon our shores the word of our fellow neighbors can no longer be trusted. Not because I suspect them each to have nefarious intent," he shook his head, "Oh no, of course not. Their ignorance to our ways is what provokes my reluctance to rely upon them for the guidance of my judgements. For they are new to these shores and unfamiliar to our traditions."
The crowd lifted their disgruntled voices in disagreement. Her husband raised his hands to order the throng. "So I've chosen the most faithful among you. They shall remain unidentified…nameless to one and all excluding me. This group of men and women shall be my counsel. They shall keep me informed of everything which stirs unrest within the walls of our city. For they will hear all and see all." The horde quieted. Their gazes took a doubting turn as each hurtled to regard the other. A sneering smirk ensnared her mouth. Well done! For how would two stand together if distrust stood between them? "Now go about your rising citizens of Kattegat and take pride in knowing you are reigned over by a god who sees all and knows more."
As the people departed from the hall, she approached the throne. Ivar hobbled over to his and sat. He greeted her with a glare. She'd expected as much from him. Perhaps, even more. For she'd exacted another offense against his dark obsession without the benefit of his permission. Yet what punishment could she be met with in her condition? Amnesty belonged to her whether he wanted to extend the reprieve or not.
So she brandish the boldness within her possession the way a raiding Northmen wielded about his ax. "Though clever they may be your threats won't be enough. The revolt will resume if you refuse to go further in your intimidations."
"Do you truly believe I'd grant heed to your counsel? Have you not already traveled far enough for the both of us in your many ill-fated endeavors!" He jabbed his iron crutch at her. The spiked point halted but a whispering breath from her eye. She stumbled to a stop. "Endeavors which have cost me much." His blistering glare seared layers from her face. "But no more. For the duration of your confinement you shall remain locked in your personal quarters."
An infuriating blaze incinerated her where she stood. Ignoring the heat of the burn, she settled him with a glare forged in the depths of her rage. "Do what you must with me, My King. However know this, if you allow this contention among the dark witch's faithfuls to proliferate then they will come for our heads and the heads of all whom they believe loyal to us."
"Perhaps they should!" Pain shredded the furious expression which locked the muscles in his face. "What I did to My…to their Supreme was unforgivable. My head is but a small pittance in their pursuit of vengeance for even a single breath squandered from her eternal walk."
She knocked his iron crutch away to close the distance between them. "How can you believe such things to be true? You did what you must to save the lives of your wife and son. Had you failed to act your babe would be dead at the hands of a bitch not worthy enough to utter his name!"
"Yes, this is true!" A pulsing force rippled the air. "Because I failed to act my babe is indeed dead at the hands of a bitch not worthy enough to speak her name, while her mother has since fallen by mine. Guards," He raised a hand and waved it about, "take her!"
Two magnificent doors swung open to allow Bjorn entrance into the dwelling place to some of the greatest warriors to ever lift a blade in Midgard. Valhalla! The brand on his arm pulsed. Beyond the opening a balcony offered him a view of the most vibrant of heavens. Hills of verdant rolled farther than his eyes could sight. In every direction lush fields ran. He'd never witnessed anything of the likes. His breath caught. Though the beauty before him couldn't be denied, the figure standing at the gilded railing pilfered his adoration. Ragnar. Despite the fact of being presented with his back and he appeared younger than when he'd seen him last, Bjorn knew him. With his mind full and his heart nigh bursting, he crossed the balcony to claim the place next to his father.
"No other son has ever made a father prouder than you've made me," Ragnar words held enough girth to buckle Bjorn's knees.
His breath caught as he cast his gaze over the view which lay before him. The liquid heat of his emotions burned his eyes. "All I ever wanted was to be a man of which you and the gods could be proud."
"Then in this you've done well," his father said cutting an eye at him. He then laughed a bit to himself, before fixing his sight out on the rolling verdant hills. "Do you still dream of your Mystical One?"
The scene before Bjorn faded and Bonnie's face filled his field of vision. "Not since the gods and time saw fit to give her to me."
"Does she still have a claim upon your heart or does Fate have the right of it?" Ragnar turned to scrutinize him full on. "Have you turned to the shieldmaiden who now resides at your side?"
Anger churned his bowels. Fate had much to answer where he and Bonnie were concerned. "I care not for Fate's loom or grand tapestry! Bonnie will be my wife and no one else will stand between us ever again. Not Ivar, Fate, or my own foretold path."
His father searched his face with a narrowed stare, before resolve flared his eyes. "When will you sail for Kattegat?"
"Perhaps Spring, after the storms have passed and the ice has melted," he answered once more before returning his gaze to the scenery.
His father gripped his shoulder and engaged him with a stare enriched by a wealth of meaning. "Sail on the first tide of the third rising. Doing so will allow you to avoid the storms and will lead you to the means you seek to overcome your brother." His father then turned to leave but stalled halfway in his departure. "Bjorn…succeed where Ivar and I have failed."
"I will serve the people well." Bjorn brought a fist to his heart. "You have my vow, I shall be a good king to Kattegat."
"Of this I'm aware," Ragnar angled his head over his shoulder not glancing back fully. "Yet it wasn't of Kattegat of which I spoke."
Freydis' foresight on the rebellion came to past. After nigh a fortnight of peace Bonnie's prolonged absence stirred unrest among her trusted and faithfuls. They'd taken torches to all but one of their food stores, raided their larders, and destroyed a great portion of the city's marketplace. He gutted and quartered agitators every rising, but it seemed more rose up to replace those he cut down. Without the one who'd organized them, all his efforts were for naught.
As he rode through the city on his chariot assessing the damages one of his warriors spoke to him about the progression of their search on who led the rebellion. "One of our spies were able to discover the leaders of this uprising."
"Well?" Ivar demanded as he sighted his warriors attempting to smolder the flames of another burning structure in the Marketplace. "Which one of these agitators will succumb to the fires they thought to ignite this eve?"
The man cleared his throat. Discomfort donned him better than his battle armor. "The spy claims your brother's wife Thora and another who has yet to be identified leads the revolt against you."
Surprise turned his head about to regard the warrior. Thora? Why would she do such a foolish thing? She'd been the one to save him when he hadn't enough fight in him to save himself. To involve herself with such treachery she surely had to know with what end she'd be met. Where in Helheim was Bonnie? Why hadn't she returned to bring ease to her trusted and faithfuls? It had been nigh a moon cycle since he'd plunged a sword in her back.
As they rounded the corner to approach the long house the destruction of his erected likeness painted his entire sight line the glaring hue of spurting blood. Someone split the idol of him in half and placed the decapitated head of a pig on top. Fury pounded a litany of battle drums within the depths of his ears. Rage controlled his senses and claimed his tongue.
"Gather them! Gather them all, including the children," the demand shook the bases of his chest. "Gather anyone who's ever left Bonnie an offering since I've become king, whose ever sympathized with her, or whose ever been reticent to accept Freydis as their Supreme." He flicked his wrists to angle his horses around the desecration of his altar. "And bring Thora to me."
"She awaits you in the great hall," the warrior said.
The news somewhat took him unawares, but he nodded his approval. He'd wanted a moment to order his thoughts and think upon her transgressions. Yet such a moment wouldn't be claimed. A blatant action called for a scathing reaction. Foolishness submitted to madness and a stunning retaliation from him would urge rebels to reconsider their reckless deeds. Though he hadn't expected Thora to be the means of his resolution. For how could he settle upon her the same judgment he would another guilty of such an offense. Hvitserk would never forgive him.
As soon as he entered the great hall he sighted Thora. She stood before the thrones with her head high and hands bound. "Remove her bindings, they're unnecessary," he said, while struggling to climb the steps to his throne. Walking had become more difficult since the eve his legs broke. Once he seated himself he stared down at his sister by marriage. Thora glared at him in return.
After a moment of watching each other, he spoke. "Where is Hvitserk, Thora?"
"I don't know," she answered, jutting her chin in emphasis.
"Hmm," he laughed to himself as he settled a bit more in his seat. "So he's unaware of your actions as of late. The things you've done to upset all we've built here since I've become king of Kattegat and my wife Supreme."
"No, he's not aware, but even if he were I doubt he'd have a care for the stability of your kingdom," she spat back at him. "For I trust you've not misremembered your last encounter with my husband."
Incited he pitched forward in his seat to impale her with the piercing pointedness of his glare. "Why do you loathe me so, hmm? What great offense have I committed that moves you to provoke unrest within the walls of our city?"
"You speak offense as if there has been only one wrong you've committed!" she bellowed back at him as amber light blazed within her narrowed stare. "No, Ivar Lothbrok! Your sins against the gods and our Most High are many. And the verity you exact such transgressions while being a son of Ragnar is disgusting." Her glower darted to his personal quarters, before returning to him. "You aid the enemy in her pursuit against the Mother of All, our true Supreme. And no one as reckless as this should hold power. Not even a son of Ragnar."
Ivar forced himself to his feet and managed to hobble back down the stairs to tower before Thora. "Thank you for your honesty, Thora. I shall think on everything you've spoken to me this rising." He waved his hand towards the doors of the great hall. "You're free to go."
Thora watched him for a long moment, and then whirled about to seek her leave of the hall. His personal warrior approached him. "All of the witch's trusted and faithfuls have been gathered…even the children."
"Burn them!" He ordered.
The warrior's head lurched. "B-Burn them…a-alive?"
"Yes!" Ivar glared at the great hall doors. A grimace twisted his mouth as the bitter sound of Thora's words rung loud in his ears. "Burn them all."
"Even Thora?"
He rested all of his weight upon his iron crutch. "Especially Thora!"
Bonnie stepped from the in between attired in full battle armor. From the void she'd watched everything in Kattegat unfold. She'd witnessed the unrest of her trusted and faithfuls due to her absence and Ivar's rapid descent into madness. He'd destroyed her last straw when he demanded to not only have her faithfuls and trusted burned, but their children as well. Now the time had arrived for her to slap loud enough to be heard. With a straight back, her head held high and squared shoulders, she strutted towards the orange-red glow burning bright within the depths of the forest. The silent calls of her children beckoned to her.
"Have you ever seen anything of the likes?" She overheard a warrior say as she entered the forest.
"No," another answered. "Never! What sort walks into flames without as much as an utterance."
"And then just stands about," the other agreed.
"The sort who knows themselves to be protected," she answered.
They spun around, swords drawn at the ready. Little good it did them however, she lifted her hands and the points of their blades plunged into the others' throats. The warriors final gurgled grunts filled the forest. Yet her fucks to give alluded her as she stepped over their bodies to approach the raging fires in which her sons and daughters quietly burned.
"Come to me," She whispered to the flames.
As soon as she uttered the words her trusted and faithfuls emerged from the fires unharmed. The weight on her chest lifted. Her protection spells had held. Not one of her sons and daughters appeared shook after being met with such an end as death by fire. Once satisfied none of them sustained noteworthy injuries she led them from the forest to the harbor. There a yacht waited to take them to Floki's settlement. As everyone climbed into the luxury liner, Thora spun around to lay claim to Bonnie's watchful stare with a pleading one of her own.
"Supreme, will you tell Hvitserk I'm alive?" Thora's face puckered a bit as the blue of her eyes glistened from the sheen of her tears. "And where I've gone?"
"You have my vow, Thora. I'll make sure Hvitserk knows your alive and where you reside…eventually," she said, not willing to amend her words or stat order her promise.
Thora lingered a moment longer. She appeared to want to say more, but in the end only nodded before climbing on the boat.
"You're forcing us to sail this lot to Greenland, and in doing so I'm being deprived of all the decadence that accompanies a blood feud, darling," Kol complained coming to stand next to her.
Finn tossed a disdaining glare of his shoulder as he assisted Thora onto the yacht. "It's the Icelandic settlement, Loki!"
"A pointless correction, Thor!" He dismissed Finn with a flap of the hand. "And it serves as no consolation for what I'm to be denied."
"I don't need you here for this part." She turned away from the yacht, cutting her gaze up at him as she did. "This is something I have to do on my own, because when I top Ivar I want him to make no mistake about who's raw dogging him dry from behind." Kol chortled to himself. "When you deliver my trusted to Floki catch up with your mother and Dahlia in the Mediterranean. I'll find you when this is all over."
He reached up to grasp the side of her neck. "Are you promising me something, Little Love?"
"My words are plain, Loki," she said staring into his cobalt gaze. "Whatever meaning you choose to fill them with is your issue and not my responsibility."
Bonnie left Kol to scoff at her back as she cut a path for the long house. On her trek she noticed the devastated state of the city. Her trusted and faithfuls lost their shit. The snatched to hell and back trading center lent proof to their pissed beyond pissivity rage. The only structures which remained untouched was the Mikaelson mansion she displaced from Mystic Falls and the long house. Which didn't surprise her. Of course Ivar would double down on his home when the rebellion spun beyond his control.
She entered the great hall just before second meal. Revelers lined the tables. Each hunched over bowls of broth and onions. The vibe in the long house imitated the ongoing state of her essence. Empty and willing to be filled by anything. No matter how unsavory or depressing the fulfilling. The sight hurt her. Especially, compared to the level of excess and joy the walls of the hall had once known. Which turn left did they take to place them in such a broke down location?
As she strutted through the hall citizens began to take note. The bitter savor of their fear and shock tainted the air. She ran them no attention. They'd proven themselves unfaithful. Whether they'd done so out of fear, an attempt to appease, or profound belief, it mattered not. They still resided among those she considered guilty. So she didn't give two sloppy wet shits about the reasons which prompted their unfaithfulness.
When she reached the thrones, Bonnie didn't stop until she sat upon Ivar's. Some long house dwellers sucked in a shit ton of air, while others nearly choked on their onion soup. Getting really disrespectful, she kicked her leg up over the arm and glared back into the faces of those who had the Billy Bad ass nerve to stare. Moments later a disturbance to her right heralded the entrance of the king and joke of Kattegat. Unbothered, she didn't even turn to watch their approach. Yet the stalling of steps spoke on just how much her presence bothered those who'd thought to shrink and lower her.
Ivar limped to a stop before her. "Bonnie-,"
"You plunged a sword into my back."
"You weren't yoursel-," he attempted to utter.
She lifted her hand. His crown shot from his head and soared across the distance to greet her palm. Spearing him with a thirty-eight below glare, she placed the symbol of power on her head as she continued. "Then you ordered your warriors to burn my trusted and faithfuls. Including…their children." Her gaze darted to Freydis and made a pointed descent to her belly. "Is it just me or is the irony too obvious not to be contrived?"
"How dare you venture to defile my husband's throne by placing your unworthy arse upon it?" Freydis hissed, while stepping closer to her husband in question and placing a palm over her belly.
Bonnie's sorcery flared to smite ready at the triggering sound of Freydis' voice. She cut her glare at the so called queen and proceeded to visually slit her to ribbon like strips. "From this moment on you should attempt to remain unseen and never heard when you even suspect me to be about."
"Oh no! You can no longer dismiss me as some Saxon whore your betrothed just so happened to fall into." Feeling herself a little too much for her own health, Freydis stepped within sparking distance. "I am now his wife! The queen of Kattegat and the Sup-,"
She dares, before our sight! Expression's hiss swelled within in the walls of her mind.
Mystical energy shot from Bonnie's body to yoke Freydis up by the throat. Searing heat scorched the edges of her lids. "Finish that sentence! Say it, name yourself Supreme! I dare you." She wrenched to the edge of her seat to glower at the hall on a whole. The high priestesses and priests, especially. "Any of you! I dare any of you to ever again refer to this fraud as such." Not a stuttering word met her ears from the horde in defense of their so called Supreme. So she continued. For she'd had her fill of the fuckery. "In fact you're no longer allowed to call this original clout stalker Queen! For she isn't even a caricature of the word and to offer her the title disrespects the real women who bore the weight of the crown before her. So hear me and hear me well! Freydis, wife of Ivar the Boneless, will never be known as a queen of Kattegat."
"Bonnie, you go too far!" Ivar growled as he gestured for his guards to take action.
Instead of responding to the direct order of their king, the soldiers of Kattegat took a knee and each honored Bonnie with a warriors bow. She in turn lifted her hand, and the crown snatched itself from Freydis' head. The golden circlet shot into her waiting palm. Once Bonnie had it in her grasp she hurled it like a frisbee through the open doors of the great hall. Freydis whimpered and Ivar placed a hand to the small of her back.
Bonnie's glare burst with resentment as it moved over the pair. A laugh empty of humor exploded from her mouth. "And even now, after everything you still protect her." She waved a hand at them. "Comforting her, coming to her defense as if her hands isn't stained red from the blood of our child. In the words of the true Queen…I know she was attractive, but I was here first…" Liquid hurt sizzled the inner lining of her lower lids. Happier memories of them in days gone by played tricks on her mind and took shots at her heart.
He shook his head as his pleading stare arrested hers. "I'd never place anyone above you, I only wanted-,"
"Yet that's exactly what you did, even after I loved you more than I loved me." Her gaze left him to sweep over the hall. Time rewound itself and the hall transformed. From her place on the throne she witnessed the initial moment she locked eyes with a methane blaze to which she'd devote her entire existence. "The first moment I saw you my essence and sorcery recognized you as the love of my eternity. In that instance I knew it would all begin and end with you."
"I…I knew this to be true as well, My Love," he whispered, limping towards the steps leading up to his throne.
Bonnie's blurry gaze drifted from him to Freydis who teetered on the tips of her toes as she dangled from the grasp of the true Supreme's sorcery. "Even though I knew she had a part in our story…even though I knew she'd rock the very foundation of what you and I built…I never expected her to blow apart everything we erected, Babe," a tear trickled over the barrier of her lower lid and she shook her head. More of Queen Bey's words tore from the depths of her battered heart because Resentment definitely had her on one. "I've been riding with you for six years, so why the hell did I deserve to be treated this way by you…"
"My Love," he sat on the step next to his throne and placed a hand on her boot. "I only meant to raise myself to a summit in which I'd be deserving of you."
"It was there." Her gaze fell into the eyes that would undoubtedly haunt her throughout her eternity. "I sat right where you are now when your mother told me…Ivar is clever, at times even loving, but above all complicated. She said, your life is a series of moves in your mind. That you sometimes become so ensnared with winning the match in your head you forget the pieces you've decided to sacrifice or trade away in life are more important than a temporary triumph in thought. Pieces like me and…Faith…"
"My Love, don't," he buried his face in her lap.
"Queen Aslaug also told me, I'd love you without restraint and you'd break me. She warned me that the agony would be unbearable and I'd suffer. Swear to the Goddess, your mother wasn't just queen of Kattegat she donned the crown for Queen of the understatement as well," she said, sitting back against the throne.
"Forgive me," he breathed into her thighs.
She brought her hand up and allowed her fingers to entangle themselves in the messy clumps of his braids. "No, Babe. There's no need to be apologetic. For there is no wronged parties in this game of you and I. There's only winners and losers. You made your move and I made mine."
He lifted his face from her lap to drown her in his ocean stare. "No, I don't believe this."
"You should, because I've hurled so many shots at you, I bet you're probably thinking what's up with B?" Her head bobbed as she cast her gaze over the gaunt faces of her prodigal children. "And your more than valid in your asking, because this is a question I have to ask myself. For I've allowed your actions to play me so far out of character I've punished those who lacked conviction, but still embraced survival. To think, I actually thought to look down on them for their fence riding ways. When not too long ago I was the one back stabbing a coven of witches to bring back my double dealing ex-boyfriend!" She lifted her hand and the bowls of onion broth disappeared and bounties of food loaded down the tables. Praises and gasps filled the hall. More tears spilled down her cheeks and she rubbed them away with the backs of her hands, laughing between sobs. "Damn, I've been crying for so long what have you done to me?" She shrugged as she blotted at more tears. "After everything we've been through over this pass year I'm exhausted. I feel so…weak."
"You're the strongest force I know," he uttered.
"No, I used to be strong," He interlaced his fingers with hers and she allowed him. Her mouth gave birth to even more of Beyonce's Resentment anthem. "I used to be so strong, but now you've taken my soul and here I am crying…I can't stop fucking crying!"
"Then stop fighting me, My Love," he pressed kisses to the back of her hand. "I'll give you whatever you want. Just allow Freydis to give birth to our divine child and-,"
"You could've told me that you weren't happy!" She snatched her hand from his. "If I wasn't enough for you, Ivar, why didn't you say so before we arrived here at this busted ass moment in time?"
"You've always been enough…more than enough! I love you more than anything that dwells-,"
"Oh my Goddess the lies! I'm not sure if you tell them because you don't wanna hurt me or don't wanna fuck yourself out of what you believe to be an ideal situation." Her sorcery slashed at her insides wanting nothing more than to curb stomp Ivar's manipulative ass for every dirty inch of his filth. "Yet even if you didn't want to hurt me it doesn't matter because look what the hell you've done to me, and then have another look at what we've done to us. This has met its end and there's no Valhalla or Nirvana waiting to life support our fading love into a better future!"
He attempted to grab her hand, but her sorcery sparked at his fingers before they made contact. Frustration turned him two different shades of red. "That is not true! You and I are fated. Our paths are bound. If you can accept this, learn to accept Freydis and enter into matri-,"
Bonnie slapped him so hard, he damn near did a 180 degree spin on the step. "I'll never create a covenant with the emissary of my sworn enemy. With the woman who demanded the head of my unborn daughter...the same woman who is the reason she's not in my arms now!" She stood and brought the full weight of a Christian hell bred hatemaker down on him. "It's bad enough I have to look this bitch in her eyes and know because of you she's already had half of me!"
"Bonnie, please! You must understand that I don't love Freydis," he hurried his words as he struggled to climb to his feet. "I've never placed her or her child above ours-,"
"How could you lie?" She demanded as his poisonous words filled her head and rung loud in her ears. "I was there the night you killed the seer!" More air disappeared up the noses of the more avid tea sippers who dwelled within the walls of the hall. Ivar attempted to brick over his expression, but his methane stare told the tale better than his tongue could. "You swore to me in England you'd love me no matter the circumstances or the situation and you lied! Then you stand there and look me in my face, tell me you'd never place Freydis above me and again…you lie."
She reached up to take the crown from her head. "Your tongue claims to know the truth of the many untruths of your covenant mate, and yet it still lies. For it speaks without the full support of your mind and heart. However you may rest assured all three will soon reach an accord when you cast your gaze upon the babe she pushes into Midgard." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips that promised vengeance and retribution. "Disorder came from order, fear came from courage, and weakness came from strength. The opportunity of defeating your enemy is provided by your enemy himself."
"The Art of War." Confusion provoked Ivar's slitted stare to search her face as she replaced the crown on his head.
"So go on." Her gaze arrested his searching one and held. "Suffer the burden of your crown for a bit longer while it's still yours to bear, Babe." A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "For your time as the King of Kattegat is now strapped to the ever dwindling sands of the hour glass.