Chapter 10.

Llucia walked slowly towards the figures, there was no need to run or try to hide, they'd just ask earl Ingstad about her whereabouts. Bjorn nodded his head and Ivar stared at her. His hair had grown a bit and she was surprised to see her bracelet on his wrist.

˝I have come to see my mother, we're about to raid˝- Bjorn said. Llucia nodded and stared unsure what to say. Do you congratulate or? Silence fell and Bjorn glanced over to Ivar before walking off with the horse ˝I'll leave you two˝- Again she nodded. Ivar gazed at her with such intensity she though he'd burn a hole in her.

˝I have to pick herbs˝- she finally said and moved beside him. The path she was about to take to the mountains was right beside the ash tree he decided to rest on.

˝I will greet the earl later˝- He commented and started to drag himself after her. The sounds of him dragging his body through the dirt and stones accompanied her erratic heart beats. What would he ask? Would he even say anything or just stare at her?

She left him in Kattekat.

Pissed off , sad, betrayed.

But then again. Wasn't she betrayed in a way? He had been talking to her like she was disposable and then gotten angry if she tried to move away. He had treated her like an object, like a slave.

Mulling over her thoughts she hadn't noticed him falling behind and stopped near bushes. There were some of the herbs she needed for the earl's tea. Pointy, dark green leaves bursting with energy. They relieved head aches, fevers, tremors in the body and calmed upset stomachs. Picking them carefully with thongs and a knife she heard Ivar speak.

˝Did you lie with a man here?˝- He said it so casually, like asking about her mood that day. Suddenly rage filled her and she grabbed the leaves, not minding the sting and turning to him with heavy steps before slapping him across the face with the leaves.

Ivar howled instantly as the green leaves touched his skin. The prickling, stinging sensation was worsened by the slapping.

Nettle.

Ivar screamed and cursed, thrashing on the beaten path. Llucia was breathing heavily, eyes wide with rage. ˝How fucking dare you? YOU SPOILED BRAT!˝- She spat out and dropped the nettle at his feet. Glaring daggers she ran up the hill to finish her herb picking, kick a rock or yell at a bear. Anything to get this frustration out.

Maybe she shouldn't yell at a bear in hindsight.

Ivar was speechless. His face stung and hurt from the nettle but what amazed him was the burst of emotion that Llucia displayed. She had broken the mask on her face to yell at him just as he wanted her to, truthfully maybe he should have used another method, this was just cruel.

But Gods, how he had missed her. Her face when she'd yell at him, filled with emotion and hot blood, all mighty and powerful like she should have been. Loud like the lightning crack when Thor marched through the sky.

Her hair had grown but she still let it loose and he loved it, the freedom her locks had around her face, shaping the skin.

Her eyes, the fire inside those eyes was something he dreamt off and not the eyes dulled with pain and broken spirits.

She was still inside, she just needed a little nudge.

Stomping her feet Llucia returned at sunset. Her basket was filled with various herbs, flowers and fruits and berries she collected. Pine cones were always stuffed beside chamber entrances and beds to give this special scent of mountain spirit. She'd pick thyme and put it into small sachets around the dresses of the women in Hedeby, the sweet herby scent was calming. Sage was pressed into small rolls with petals and other herbs, bound with string and lit when a room needed to be cleansed. Some of the other herbs would be ground up and added to pork fat to make balms, others put into spirits and mead to make tonics and syrups.

She was a small apothecary.

There were old wives back home that would mend the wounds and give help while birthing babies that were of special care. A brief though of child paralysis buzzed through her mind. She stopped and wondered, what if she could help Ivar?

To walk?

But the years spent of not using his legs, no muscle to hold him.

It needed a miracle.

Maybe a balm to ease the nerve pain, it was all she could do.

˝Some of the verbena might help...˝- She murmured.

˝Help whom?˝- Ivar said. He was lying next to a rock of the path where she had left him. The nettle she used to slap him was in his lap just as she had left it. ˝You forgot your hell weed˝

˝Nettle˝

˝I know what it's called˝- Llucia stared at him. Took a deep breath and exhaled. Felt her arms and the sore feeling creeping into them. Tempted to throw pine cones at his head. Debated if it was worth. Maybe adding some poppy milk into his mead?

Sleep bastard.

Maybe she'd add some smear balm on his temples infused with wolfsbane, to help him rest or a tea with chamomile for his thoughts and mind and with water hemlock. It grew everywhere in the fields, he wouldn't know how poisonous it would be. Or she'd have to ad-

Wait.

Since when was she this murderous? To him? When she came to Hedeby hadn't she prayed to Vesta and all her old Gods for a new start? A chance to live peacefully even though she was in the rein of new Gods where the Gods that had left her here no longer spoke?

It was an inner crisis of her. Her Gods and their Gods. So similar yet so different. Both so humane and filled with mortal mistakes and selfishness, jealousy, murder intents, incest. Powerful and arrogant beings.

What was she to poison this creature that stayed alive despite being called un usable in his society?

He once told her his father wanted to leave him in the woods when he learned of his legs, he kept saying he loved him and hated him.

˝There's an interesting world of emotion on your face˝- Ivar said simply.

˝Why do you analyze me? You throw me in boiling water, peel me, you throw me in cold water, you mash me with balms. You separate my being Ivar˝- Llucia said slowly. She was at lost what to do with him. The strange Viking cripple.

He couldn't stay away from her just as she was attacked to him in a strange way.

˝Repeat that and explain˝

˝No˝

˝What no? I don't get what you said˝

˝It wasn't meant for you to get it, it was meant for me to let it of my chest˝

˝Fine, you're free now˝

˝Yes I am˝

˝Did you?˝

˝I have nettle in my basket˝

˝And I have it in my lap and my arms are stronger than yours˝

˝I'm faster˝

˝Come here, let me test it˝- Ivar teased. His eyes glinted in that bluish tint again, she could see the sparkles of mischief pushing through the blue irises. He was teasing her, of course.

˝No, you come˝- She'd play and she'd kick his sorry ass. Fine, she wouldn't poison him but he was a a man? He could be kicked.

˝Oh?˝- Ivar's mouth twitched and he smiled at her like a predator before dragging himself to her feet. He lifter her skirt and smelled her leg. Moaning he bit her flesh. Llucia stared shocked and with unusual force kicked him in the chest. The kick pushed his breath out and he fell onto his back. He snarled and got up only to be kicked again. Llucia groaned and pushed him back on to the dirt and straddling his hips before slapping him once, twice and puffing.

She was beathing hard, heart beating like she ran from death, staring at Ivar.

She smirked. Eyed her and laughed out loud. Llucia was about to protest when Ivar grabbed her neck and slammed his lips against her.

It was awkward and wet, both unsure what to do with their lips but determined to finish the kiss at all cost, dominate at all costs.

What felt like hours later they detached and Llucia cursed the Gods, his and hers alike. ˝I'm going with Father to England, to raid˝

˝YOU!?˝- She couldn't believe a cripple would dare to cross the seas.

˝YES ME!˝- He yelled. ˝I need a favor˝- He said simply, under her smirking still. Llucia's cheeks were red as soon as she noticed him still staring at her lips.

˝What do you want Ivar?˝- She said exhausted.

˝Wait for me to return˝- He said. Llucia stared at his eyes. His gaze was filled with determination and a sense of need. He needed her approval to go and her willingness to wait. He was afraid.

˝A cripple would drown in the sea and you're an idiot for going but since I don't have anywhere to go˝- She stopped. She did, she should have gone back home. She could have. Earl Ingstad would have allowed it. Question is, why didn't she?

Maybe because she waited for someone...

˝Veniet pax˝- she whispered at him.

˝What?˝

˝Remember it and find a Christian monk when you come to England˝- She said. Ivar's eyes widened at her message still masked in the strange words but he smiled and pulled her in for another awkward kiss.

a/n: I took a few days to focus on uni stuff and to refocus my mind to be honest with you guys, I had to plan the next few chapters out, expect stuff bwahahah. MY HEART WAS BREAKING AT THE LAST EPISODE. POOR BABE IVAR. AM I THE ONLY ONE THINKING MARGARETHE IS PLANNING STH OR BEING A BITCH? CAUSE FUCK YOU MATE.

a/n2: This chapter is dedicated to my hate towards nettle.

a/n 3: Veniet pax – Come back safe (google translate for latin, yes yes)