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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

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To Kill A King

Ivar+Saxon Princess! Reader

The Stupid Believer:

Just when I thought I was Running out of time The King stood trembling at my bedside

“To Kill A King” by Hungry Lucy

(Masterlist) (Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there lovelies!

I know that nobody reads this, but I just wanted to tell you two things:

1) THIS CHAPTER SUCK! (I mean... fluff and angst not mixed properly together+me overthinking everything...=utter shit) (so I am sorry, I hope the next one will be better!).

2) I might disappear a bit in the following days, because of personal reasons (related to tumblr and outside) so if I don’t reply/am very active, I am sorry, but I am doing what I think is best for myself.

As always: this series means so so much to me, so any feedback is more than welcome, everything starting from comments to reblogs, just LET ME NOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Feedback makes our fingers write faster and our heart beat faster!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Pushed up to confront your previous 'owners', you delve in the joys of marital bliss, although nothing seems to last truly. Innocence and dreams even less.

WORDS: 19 K

WARNINGS: Arranged Marriage, Mention of Domestical Abuse and Rape, Violence (Strong Themes), Sexual Harassment, Slavery, Historically inaccurate, Blood and Period.

The ride on the chariot, this time, had been silent and although you weren’t sure, you had the sensation that Ivar went slower this time, almost as if he didn’t want to bring you there, as he held you against him, his own breath being uneven.

You thought about what English men wanted from you.

You almost dreaded the thought of being wanted back.

It made you feel like an object.

Nothing more than a vase to be traded.

The brothers had started off before you, to allow you the privacy to converse in peace and finish what they had interrupted, but Ivar hadn’t said anything, the intimacy you had owned a few moments before completely shredded to pieces, as he harshly suggested you adjusted your hair.

Strands of grass were in them, alongside the evident traces of Ivar’s kiss, since they had been evidently brushed up by Ivar’s bigger hands.

He still looked for your hand as you were finally ready to face the English warriors, and he had helped you again on the chariot, making sure to dust off the remaining of grass from your clothes as you did the same on his own.

You almost wanted to say comforting words, such as the ones you had saidion the small private piece of heaven, Ivar had offered you.

But this wasn’t the time.

And you couldn’t promise Ivar to stay if your father wanted you back.

You hoped it wasn’t what would have happened, since it would have certainly awakened the war you had been sold to finish.

Your father wouldn’t have been that stupid.

You hoped.

You met the English warriors at the border of the camp and you immediately recognized them as the border patrol unit, a rather smaller one in the English army, mostly travelling to make sure the borders and treaties were respected both by the heathen and both by the lords of England, that might use a moment of instability to gain more lands.

Like your father.

Gosh, he was quite clouding your mind, since you couldn’t help but feel like whatever was happening, he was for sure involved in it.

Nervousness flickered through you as Ivar beside you held his most unimpressed expression, something that made you uneasy, since this way he was quite difficult for you to understand him.

You wanted to hug him, since the feeling of his strong body was almost comforting to you, but it would have been highly inappropriate, even more now that you were faced with your own old motherland.

You quickly moved in front of the brothers, although Hvitserk, made sure to stand beside you on the side that Ivar didn’t occupy already, gently pushing an hand on your shoulder, as if he understood your uneasiness.

And then you were fully in front of your previous kinfolk.

And you didn’t recognize a single one of them, almost as if entire years had passed since you had started your new life in the Viking settlement.

It was better to get this over before nervousness got to you.

“I am princess (Y/N)” you screamed in order to be heard by the scouts, since a lengthy distance was between the two armies, with the Vikings seemingly ready to attack at any moment, meanwhile the Saxons looked quite fearful, even more because they weren’t in the slightest enough counterattack the heathens “… why have I been summoned, here?”.

Your words seemed more annoyed than you had intended them to be, but the memory of Ivar’s lips on yours was still recent, and the way his hand gently pressed its way in your arms, already made you missing of the intimacy you had shared.

No cunning thoughts or mischievous plans between you two.

You had expected a few soldiers of your father to appear, although none of them wore its emblem, but then the crowd of soldiers opened, revealing, finally, a familiar face.

A fair-haired boy walked in front of the army, his light grey eyes searching for something, till they set on you, as his steady body finally seemed to relax.

Alexander appeared in your full view, and for once since all this meeting had been announced, you were happy to see a Saxon face among them, as he moved closer to you, walking the lengthy distance between the two formations, till both Hvitserk and Ubbe stepped up to stop him.

Your arm immediately shot up to the younger brother, as you pushed him back lightly, even going as far as to pull his hair to catch his attention and you whispered in his ear that you knew him.

And Alexander’s eyes, now, spoke of a similar recognition.

And soon, his hands moved to do what his eyes spoke of, as he, after both the brothers had been reeled back, pushed you in his arms, lightly raising you off the ground, making you giggle.

He twirled you laughing of happiness, making you completely forget where you were.

And then when he set you down, you had forgotten all around yourself.

Not many people, back in the castle had been your friends, truly.

But Alexander had been your dearest friend.

And your first crush.

Although that ship had sailed and sunk long ago.

“… what are you doing, here?” you giggled softly, as you tried to adjust your hair behind your ears, meanwhile Alexander regarded your strange outfit of the day, something that made you blush, but you coughed lightly to bring his attention back to your question.

“We are actually here for you, (Y/N)” he spoke softly, before he straightened up his back, pushing himself in a more honorable position, as if he hadn’t just broken the entire castle etiquette, in hugging you in that way “… we are here to check on you, princess (Y/N)”.

“Why?” you were honestly surprised to discover the reason, mostly because it made you almost feel like you had done something wrong.

Was your father not happy of the little information you had given him?

Alexander lightly lowered his stance, almost conspiratorially.

“… we have heard news that you had been accused of having poisoned a prince and were facing a trial for that…” realization hit your face, as you lightly moved to turn your head back, recognizing among the many Viking faces Heahmund’s one, who looked honestly relieved at seeing the small Saxon army.

And then your eyes fell onto Ivar, as your head made to turn to Alexander.

His mouth was slightly agape, as his eyes held a brokenness in them that made you shift your whole attention to him, as you noticed that his hands had been left around in the position they were when he was holding onto you.

You immediately reached around, pushing one hand between you and your heart broke at the eagerness Ivar showed in taking it, before his face became again impossible to understand, as he shifted his eyes away from you, as if he hadn’t been bothered by your intimacy with Alexander a few minutes before.

“It isn’t anything too bad” you mumbled lightly in Norse “… he is a friend”.

He just grunted, and knowing that he wouldn’t hear any explanation, you turned heavily to Alexander, glad that Ivar’s hold on your hand was still a small link between you.

“… I was” shock appeared in Alexander’s eyes “… but it was all a plot against Ivar, all the accusations fell quickly yesterday and my life is alright, I am sorry you had to come here for nothing, my father must have been truly annoyed to have to send..”.

“It is not your father who sent us” your friend spoke and you were immediately surprised, shock written all over your face “… our God-blessed king Alfred asked us to check on you, to make sure that you were safe”.

“I am”.

You wanted all of this to cut itself quickly, since you could feel the tension between the two armies, because although they were in no one’s land, it didn’t mean it couldn’t be conquered.

“I’d like to make sure of it myself” spoke Alexander, as he grabbed on the hand that Ivar didn’t hold, making effectively the worst move possibly, because as he gripped forward, Ivar gripped you back to himself, effectively overpowering your friend.

And you cursed yourself for being stuck between two men.

“… my wife told you she is fine, Saxon, now go back to your lands” Ivar’s words were a veiled threat, and although you didn’t like his tone and sent him an harsh glare to remind him of his tone.

“I said I’d like to prove it myself” replied in an even more hissing tone, Alexander, holding himself as arrogantly as he could, something that always fascinated you, but right now, against Ivar’s sheer power, he looked like a boy who was challenging a man.

“And I do think that I have a saying in this” you surprised the two men, pipping in, as you broke away from both grips, meanwhile Hvitserk behind you giggled at the ridiculousness “… Alexander, has my tongue ever been anything less than truthful?”.

He shook his head at your reprimand as Ivar shook his head, already tasting victory, and you decided to take advantage of it, turning to him, as you joined your hands together.

Truly the portrait of the perfect couple.

“… I’ll walk with him to make sure that he comes back to the army, I won’t leave your view, don’t worry” you knew it sounded almost pathetic, but Ivar didn’t already seemed pleased to solely leave your hand “… it is a necessity that I show him that I am not hurt”.

“I would never hurt you” spoke tenderly Ivar, as his hand broke away from the hold of yours, lightly caressing your face to reinforce the concept, a gesture that made you smile softly, as you leaned in the simple touch “… he dishonor my land and men saying that”.

Why with men it was always about honor?

“… I know” you spoke softly “… but they don’t know it, so just let me show them that I am happy with you”.

The words seemed to hit him deeply.

But never as much as they hit with you.

Because they were the truth.

You had been happy with him.

Not always and sometimes he could be quite a pain in the ass, but…

… he made you smile.

“… I swear that nothing will happen” you promised “… I swear it on the crown”.

That seemed to get to Ivar, whose tense expression disappeared in a smirk, as his other hand went to your waist, something that made you breathe out at his boldness.

“… are you using my ideas against me?” he commented with that insane arrogance, that made you want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Oh Gosh, wouldn’t you have liked to be still there in your own private heaven, on top of him, tasting him as he explored your body.

And at the same time, shame brought a slight blush all over your body, starting from your neck and pushing itself on your cheeks.

“Am I not supposed to be your smart wife?” you retorted, and he seemed to enjoy it.

“… that’s more like cunning” he replied, before he brought your hand to his lips, a mark of possessiveness in his reply that made you smirk softly “… walk him back and tell them to leave”.

You nodded, as you turned to Alexander, who tried and failed to hide his confusion, and you suddenly noticed that you had spoken in Norse, without even noticing it with Ivar.

“… let’s go, my proud knight” you commented offering him his arm, as both Hvitserk and Ubbe were told to back off by Ivar, who turned his back to you, going back to his cart, meanwhile his brothers trailed after him, something mischievous in Hvitserk’s eyes.

You were glad you didn’t have to deal with his annoying questions.

Alexander took your arm, almost as if he didn’t believe it fully and gently started walking, at a slower pace than your own.

You kept in silence, till you were a bit away from heathens and then Alexander moved to talk, finally:

“Is it true that you aren’t in danger, anymore?” he asked “… Heahmund sent a letter and your sister Kathleen received it…”.

That explained the urgency and fear in Alexander’s arrival at the camp.

Gosh, it made you miss Kathleen.

With all the turn of events and the need to desperately win Ivar over, you hadn’t thought much about the love you had for your sister.

The loyalty that bound all of you.

“… and she convinced king Alfred to send a dispatch of border soldiers to check on you” Alexander continued to explain, as a small smirk appeared on your face.

“How did Kathleen manage to convince father and him?” you asked, honestly surprised, because although you knew that your sister Kathleen could drag the Devil away from his throne, you didn’t know how much a man like king Alfred might be pushed to agree on such a deal.

It made you wonder what was going on in the castle, during your absence.

“… it’s Kathleen” he commented tightly, shooting you a look as if to say ‘you know how she is’ “… she never wanted to play Guinevere’s parts when we played ‘The Legend of Arthur’, insisting she’d make a dashing Lancilot”.

“That she did”.

And that had always let Abigail be Guinever, meanwhile you were the witch Morgan, always being fascinated with such creatures, since it had made you feel powerful in your own way.

You had never been as strong as Kathleen or as cunning as Abigail, so to have magical powers…

… it had been a dream from you.

Imagination had been your sole weapon against your dull reality.

Alexander was the son of one of your father’s lords, a smaller one, cursed by the fact that that he was the second male child, hence he wouldn’t inherit much, unless he forged his own Destiny.

He would have been the least adapt match for you, according to your father.

But that had only invigorated the love that you had felt for him.

Although right now, with the knowledge of past facts, you knew it wasn’t anything more than an infatuation.

It was puppy love: you had always admired the strength of Alexander, the way he was so bright and funny, in a way that charmed anybody who had ever come upon his path.

But you had soon discovered that you weren’t the sole one charmed by him.

You had once caught him with one of the kitchen servants, and that had been the end of your first ever love story.

You had been heartbroken, mostly when he always promised you to run away with you, away from your father and his cruelty to be his own Guinevere.

But that had never happened.

And your dreams had been shattered.

From then on it had been simply a good friendship between you, although you hadn’t had much time to spend together since he had been enrolled against the heathens, even going as far as being sent to Ireland in some scouting missions, so you hadn’t seen him in quite some time.

Your mind had been quite troubled lately so the thought of him hadn’t crossed your mind, even more since your love for him had become a more tender affection.

“… and you are safe, aren’t you?” he asked, as he gently made you to turn around to face him “… they don’t mistreat you, do they?”.

“They don’t” you commented as you breathed out, trying to keep yourself the absolute calmest “… they have been welcoming, if you don’t count the fact that I was involved in a ploy to belittle Ivar”.

“You call him Ivar?” almost disbelief spoke in his eyes as you said that.

“What should I call him?” you shot back “… I do call him ‘husband’, if you are curious”.

“I am just…” he seemed at lack of words at your reply “… and you have even learned Norse, I just… feel like…”.

“I did what I had to do to survive” you commented, a flare of anger appearing in your eyes at Alexander’s questions, which reminded you of Heahmund, alongside the accusation hid behind them.

That you had turned away from the rightful way to the heathen’s one.

“That is right” Alexander commented, his uneasiness finally calming, as he moved to softly grab onto one of your hands “… I am sorry I wasn’t able to stop this from happening, you didn’t deserve it”.

“… you didn’t know, and you couldn’t have done much, knowing my father” you replied lowly, as you gripped back onto his hand, gently rubbing your thumb on the back of it “… I am actually surprised that you are here, I thought you were in Ireland, during your own scouting duties”.

“Alwin died” he replied and finally his eyes became darker with grief and you weren’t able to stop surprise from appearing on his face, at the news that Alexander’s older brother and heir to his father’s lands had died “… fighting against the heathens, although father didn’t want him to”.

“My condolences to you and your father” you spoke, measuring your words.

Although Alexander and Alwin had never been truly tight-knit brothers, always in competition for their father’s attention, you knew that it must have destroyed him to have that news, even more when his eyes showed the guilt of not having been able to protect his brother.

You understood him all too well.

“Father then had me coming back, although I told him I’d still be in the scouting legion, even more when I discovered what had happened to you” his eyes spoke of a true pain at the knowledge of what had befell on you, and you smiled trying to reassure him.

“… although this isn’t my ideal life, they treat me well, I swear it on the Holy Virgin” you promised him softly “… they haven’t ever hit me and Ivar…”.

‘… and Ivar kisses me like I am the only woman in the whole world for him’.

Your cheeks reddened at that thought.

“… he is gentle with me”.

Alexander didn’t look convinced and you knew that you hadn’t much time or options to convince him.

“… just give me more time” he suggested softly, as he pleaded to you, grabbing your hands with the same gesture Ivar had done not too long ago, and his deep grey eyes faced you, surprising you even further when he lowered himself on his knees “… please, my brave gentle princess, accord more time to me, so that I can let your sister know that you are safe and sound”.

Although the entire set-up was almost comical, this might have been quite the problem, because Ivar had clearly shown up that he didn’t like in the slightest the thought of Saxon men on his borders, but at the same time Alexander was stubborn.

You knew it all too well.

“Settle up for the night, I’ll talk with my husband” you pointed out the last word, as Alexander nodded eagerly, bringing your hand to his lips, and although you blushed at the silly gesture you couldn’t help but feel hollow from the small crush you had felt before.

“… you are an angel, princess”.

“I better be, because I’ll need a miracle to convince Ivar”.

---

“This is an insult!” in fact screamed Ivar, as you and his brothers held a private council in the main hall.

You had informed Ivar of everything on the chariot and although his focus hadn’t left for a single moment the control of the horse, he had stilled underneath you.

He was actively avoiding to let his anger feast on you, but he was bitter and he wouldn’t have had such a dishonoring command over himself.

“… and the people won’t have it” added Ubbe, sending you a small look as if to say ‘it is all your fault’, something that made you turn a bright smile at him, as you adjusted in the chair next to Ivar.

“I know” you commented, trying to calm all the souls around you “… but also the Saxons wouldn’t have left, if I hadn’t promised to try to let them stay and see me”.

“We can fight them” commented Hvitserk, drinking heavily from his horn, as you sent him an unbelieving glare, but immediately Bjorn backed him up, indeed reminding you that the Vikings had a completely different mindset from the Saxons.

And you were stuck between them, trying to find an agreement,

“You might, but it would destroy the peace my marriage sealed” and you sent a pleading look to Ivar, whose eyes still kept away from you, making you damnably nervous “… and you might defeat a scouting legion, but it’ll just put you to risk”.

“People will question this decision” Ivar simply commented, as he sent you a small look as if to ask you whether you realized the chaos that would ensue by your decision.

“… and you aren’t exactly popular among them” replied tightly Ubbe, something that this time got him a harsh look from you, as Ivar said a quick ‘don’t talk like that to my wife’.

It made you dizzy, to know that he defended you like that.

“… it isn’t exactly my fault for that” you commented “… but we could use the celebrations as an excuse: we invited the Saxons over to show them our victory over them, hiding this behind the semblance of a peaceful negotiation”.

The brothers didn’t seem convinced in the slightest, although they agreed begrudgingly, knowing that neither the opponents would have backed down and this was the best option for both.

“It isn’t enough” mumbled Ivar darkly, as he shot you a small look “… we don’t gain anything from this, and nobody of our warriors will celebrate next to some Saxon”.

“Then say that it is for an agreement for new lands” Ivar looked at you confused “… I have some lands to my name from my mother’s side, exclusively, say I have given them to you as a wedding gift and the Saxons are here to ensure the sanctity and rightfulness of the agreement”.

Your mother had bounded, before dying, some lands to your and your sisters’ names exclusively, to ensure that no matter what befell you, you’d have something for your dowry or to survive.

The question of these lands had annoyed your father, because he couldn’t have them and neither he could have used them as his own, as they were exclusively yours and they could be controlled solely by you, when you had come of age or married.

They weren’t as big as your actual dowry, but without a doubt they could have seemed quite the deal for Ivar, who simply looked at you surprised at that revelation, risking of choking on his ale, but he immediately composed back, agreeing to this with a tight nod.

“… then send the message that the Saxons are staying simply for that” he announced to his brothers, and you could see a similar grimace appear on both Bjorn’s and Ubbe’s faces.

They didn’t like that their younger brother chose for them.

But they didn’t say much, excusing themselves to spread the news, meanwhile Hvitserk stood in the room, painfully unwanted, till Ivar told himself to wait for you outside.

He had to exchange a few words with you privately and then Hvitserk would accompany you back to your tent, in order for you to write a letter to the Saxons, alongside talking with Heahmund, something that you didn’t tell Ivar, although it was high on your list of things to do.

Hvitserk trotted back, quickly, although he shot you a light smirk, as if he knew what you meant to do in your free time, and you weren’t able to stop the slight blush from appearing on your face.

Ivar did share a bit of red also on his cheeks, but his eyes were sharp till Hvitserk moved away, and then they settled on you, extremely tame with their thoughts making them appear like a storm, held back solely by wind.

“… I won’t take your lands” it was a bare answer, a whisper of indeed a storm that was starting, and you felt shaken to your very core by that revelation.

“What?”.

Any man would have seized all your belongings without a second thought or even asking you for your opinion, something that you personally found barbaric to say the least.

It was how court and wives worked.

It was how life had always worked.

Women were just the means to gain more lands and properties.

“… your lands will stay yours” he promised “… I’ll give them back to you as a wedding gift”.

“There is no need…” you started, but Ivar’s eyes shut you up quickly, as a hand of his went to thread itself in your hair, making you look up at him.

“They are your mother’s, aren’t they?” he searched your eyes for the truth, but you still nodded to assert it “… then they’ll never belong to me”.

“Thank you” you couldn’t help but appreciate the gesture that made you smirk softly, as you joined your hand with Ivar’s, gently bringing it to your lips, as the boy in front of you smiled softly.

“… and I have no interest in lands in England” he commented, trying to move away the attention from the gentleness he had showed “… Kattegat is my home”.

And soon it would have been yours too.

---

You adjusted yourself on the chair to the table you had been sat on for the previous half an hour, the letter meant for Alexander half-written, as you played around with the tip of the feather you were writing with, constantly annoyed by Angelika, who stood on your bed.

The handmaidens had all been excused, once you had arrived back in the tent, except for Turid who had been sent to retrieve and give an hour to bishop Heahmund, in order for you to meet up and tell him what would have been happening next.

What had happened now that you knew where his loyalties laid.

You also wanted to reinstate your strength and power over him, since he had seemed to forget about it.

As much as you damnably appreciated his attempt in helping you, the fact that he had sent a letter for your father without helping you or contacting you first, showed much of the true purpose of his staying beside you.

Something that you couldn’t have when you were stuck in the Viking settlements solely with him as your ally.

“… so, was you day with prince Ivar good?” Angelika asked you as you were rereading the last line you had written, almost throwing the feather out of your hands at the boldness of your handmaiden.

“None of your business” you replied, sharply, trying to focus again your attention on the letter, but Angelika smirked like a feline who knew that had hit a sore spot.

“… oh c’mon… don’t you want to tell me all the lovely moments you shared?” she continued on poking on you “… is he even able of some romance?”.

“Why isn’t Lia or Arabella here?” you wondered, raising your eyes up to the sky, annoyedly, although you were almost tempted to confess her the way you had felt for Ivar.

You had never had friends to who you could confess your own emotion and thoughts.

Your father’s court was a nest of snakes.

You had learnt early not to trust anybody with most of your thoughts.

You had grown up guarded, except with your sisters.

And without them you found yourself uneasy, both because you couldn’t talk with anybody about how you felt and both because the sole thought of confessing everything that was going through your mind tempted you and hurt you at the same time.

“… they are at training” she explained, although that annoying smirk didn’t leave her face.

“Why aren’t you there with them?” you commented, spitting the same softened venom you used for her.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt myself” she shot back tightly, and then she moved to highlight her face “… I wouldn’t want to ruin the only precious thing I own”.

“Dashing” you muttered, but it was only partially venomous, since you couldn’t help but notice the sad truth in her words: women truly didn’t own much but their beauty in this sick world “… it was nice… with prince Ivar”.

Her eyes caught fire at that small affirmation.

“Did you kiss him?”.

Now you were burning red hot and the letter was forgotten on your desk, and you turned quickly to her, definitely giving her the answer she was looking for and with a very ungraceful movement, she fell with her back on the side of your bed, laughing loudly.

“Oh Gosh! You kissed the heathen!”.

“Lower your voice, Angelika” you ordered her, although it was more an ashamed shriek, as the handmaiden didn’t even try to shut her sharp mouth “Somebody will hear!”.

“As if kissing your husband was something to be ashamed …” commented the same girl who had called your husband a ‘monster’ “… unless he is a bad kisser that is”.

Your cheeks reddened further and Angelika sent you a look as if to ask if she had guessed right, but you just shook your head, leaving your chair and your letter, since your head didn’t seem to have any idea on how to continue, your mind taken back to what it had felt with Ivar.

The gentleness and the respect his exploration had given you, as he softly took your lips in his, in a soft pressure that almost made you taste heaven.

And yet that same kiss opened the doors of hell beneath you.

But had you ever cared for that?

“… he is very good” you commented, not knowing fully why your lips were felt so loose all of a sudden “… but… I am not… as versed as him…”.

“… why doesn’t that surprise me?” replied the other girl, before she made you fall with a quick grab on your waist, so that you were at them same level, something that made you extremely nervous, never having been this close to another girl that wasn’t blood-related with you.

And after Caryn’s betrayal, the proximity hurt you even more.

But Angelika’s eyes were captivating and soon the embarrassment slowly eased up.

“… I could teach you” now they held the same wickedness of a big cat “… we could practice together”.

The suggestion made you redden significatively and you threw her a shocked expression, immediately raising yourself up, as she erupted in laughter.

And although you knew she was teasing you, it wasn’t insulting.

“Thank you for the suggestion, but no” you commented tightly, as you adjusted yourself, in a seated position, right when Turid opened the tent to check in whether you were comfortable to talk with Heahmund.

You blushed but nodded, excusing Angelika off, as you adjusted your hair, already knowing that your outfit of the day would have shocked enough the bishop, since you hadn’t changed from the outfit you had worn for your walk with Ivar.

Angelika moved annoyedly away, meanwhile Turid pushed Heahmund in, taking her leave, alongside Angelika, although her eyes shone of wickedness and you weren’t sure about whether she’d just leave, or she’d spy onto the conversation.

“… it is good to see you safe and sound” commented tightly the bishop, as he immediately came to you, kneeling before you and kissing your hand as a sign of respect, but you kept your eyes tight on him, steely and royally pissed “… I have heard that the scouting army came to check on you, my lady…”.

“Thank to you” it was a sarcastic mutter, and Heahmund soon noticed it, raising his head, to finally notice your bad humor.

“You aren’t happy with my actions, princess” his voice was almost a reprimand in itself and you held his glare, as you pushed out your breath, straightening your back.

“… not in the slightest, bishop” you replied, hissing through your teeth, something of your stance taking after the postures you had seen in Ivar “… you called my father, before even trying to help me”.

“I wouldn’t have done it, had I had any other choice!” he protested “… the Vikings wouldn’t let me see you and neither hear me, and let me tell you I couldn’t think of any other choice than to ask your father”.

Although you absolutely recognized Heahmund’s reasonings, his act had damaged you greatly, almost making you risk your life again.

Had he been truly worried for you, he’d have asked anybody but your father, since it was instead clear that his letter hadn’t been a scream of help for your own health, but a worry for your purpose in the settlements.

And it hurt you, although you knew that to your father and him you didn’t matter much more than for what you could give to them both.

“… next time you have to send a letter to my father, you’ll ask me or my handmaidens before” your voice this time didn’t ask for any replies, as it became steely rigid and strong “… and from now on if I ever catch on any information I’ll be the one to send you letters, there will be no need for you to come here”.

Heahmund’s eyes spoke of his complete humiliation at those orders followed by a blinding rage, but he simply nodded, bowing and taking his leave without being excluded.

“Bishop Heahmund” you called him one last time “… my father might not care the destiny that befell me, but let me tell you that I am much more influential than my position might let you think. For now, I have the strength to make this mission end well or badly, and I won’t undervalue it”.

“Understood” that was what you wanted to hear, and you excused him, dropping on the bed, as you had done with Angelika, feeling a series of emotion that made you almost nauseous for the various shifting they did in your mind.

You had always known that your life mattered little in your father’s hands, but you hadn’t thought it was that little, enough that you weren’t in charge of your own decision.

And that if you had overstepped your boundaries, your father would have gladly left you to die.

It hadn’t passed unnoticed to you that Alexander had said that it had been Alfred who had sent the army, because of Kathleen’s talks.

You already knew that your father didn’t care for you, even more for the shame you would have brought on his line, getting caught so early, before you could be truly useful.

He wouldn’t have taken you back, ever, now that you were tainted.

You knew that if you didn’t die on this mission by Ivar or his men’s hands, you father would have taken the thing in his own hands.

And had he ever taken pity on you, he wouldn’t have allowed much more than a shed in the wood, with no help except yourself to witness your slow death.

You had never thought that your Destiny would have been so horrible.

But now all the signs showed that no matter the momentary peace you were having, you would have had an unhappy ending.

You had been too busy with making Ivar like you at first and then protecting your own ass, but now that you thought about it, it just…

… it made you feel hollow.

Not because you were scared of death.

In death you would have found your mother again, and you would have been free from the pain of your earthly body.

But did your life matter so little truly?

A few weeks ago you thought that your life did matter so little, since in the end there wasn’t much you could bring to the table, still now you found it difficult to find yourself worthy of your title and life.

But Ivar’s words spoke to your mind, alongside the small goals you had accomplished in the camp, defeating Halfdan and Harald, creating your own court and making yourself known, as you spied on it.

You were training, your body was becoming stronger and you had found yourself being smart enough to find a solution, to talk with Ivar and be appreciated by him, because although he might not have felt love for you, he clearly admired your ways.

You could have allied with Ivar to avoid such a pitiful ending.

You could have confessed what you had been obliged to do, hoping in his anger he might see the advantage of having you by your side, although you couldn’t offer much more than your brain and your pretty face.

But what would have been of your sisters?

They would have been left to rot, maybe your father would have killed Abigail, since she wasn’t useful to him or his heir.

And you wouldn’t have survived it.

One thing was to play with your life, another was to play with your sisters’.

“… are you alright?” you were brought back by your awful thought by Hvitserk, as you immediately pushed yourself in a seated position, trying to shift away a grimace from your face as he walked in “… did the priest annoy you? Ivar will have him killed…”.

“That’d be a relief” you commented darkly, surprising the ever-cheerful Hvitserk, but then a pure look of focus fell onto his face “… I was joking”.

“Just give me the order, princess”.

“… I won’t forget it” you smiled at him sadly, as you got up, thinking that if you had spent more time with this situation on your mind, you would have probably ended up with your head growing as big as an oak.

It was better to train a bit to release the feeling of dreariness your heart held at the moment, ignoring the unfinished letter, since you didn’t know anymore what words to find.

“… did you and my brother fight?” he asked, trying to urge you in talking, seeing that you were quite unresponsive “… because I thought you looked pretty cozy back then, in the field…”.

You blushed red till even your ears were of that color.

“No, we didn’t fight…”.

“Then did you kiss?” now you were going to surely pass out from your overheated cheeks, since you couldn’t help but be embarrassed as you remembered the notion of having been caught in such a compromising position.

“… why is everyone so obsessed with knowing the details of my private life?” you muttered loudly, sending Hvitserk a pointed look, but he, exactly like Angelika didn’t back down.

“Oh please” pleaded Hvitserk, pushing his hands in a mocking pleading pose “… pretty please (Y/N) give me something to tease my brother with”.

“You won’t find an ally in me for annoying your brother” you retorted, with a tight smirk, as you pushed him lightly away, gaining a gleaming look from Hvitserk.

“… oh, pretty please, my princess” he insisted making you huff out loudly.

“Annoy your brother and not me” you simply finished the conversation, although you couldn’t help but be feel yourself a bit calmer.

But those horrible thoughts you continued on having quite the influence on you, hanging on your head like a Damocles’ sword.

“… then at least let me know when you and Angelika will practice kissing”.

You couldn’t help but be shocked by this confession, even more as you realized what Hvitserk had to do to hear those words.

He had listened on your conversation.

“… did you…” your voice choked in worry, and you tried to shove it down “… did you overhear what I was talking about with Angelika?”.

Hvitserk seemed to feel your uneasiness and quickly pushed up his hands as if to defend himself.

“… I just was by the tent” he commented tightly “… I left before the priest entered, wouldn’t want to ruin the secret of your confession?”.

A tight grimace was welcomed by a blanker expression, as you tried to calm yourself down, glad that he hadn’t heard of your talking with Heahmund.

“Don’t listen on any of my conversation” you replied biting your lips, as you pointed out each word “… because if you do, I’ll put poison ivy in your bed”.

“Oh, I am used to it, it won’t affect me anymore” he grinned wickedly, but you had another idea, as you raised up from the bed, knowing perfectly that Hvitserk would follow, as you exited the tent.

“Then I’ll curse you” your words were light and easy, unlike his meaning.

And Hvitserk’s grin dropped quickly.

“… how… how would you do that?” he asked, as you simply moved forward, and he kept on running after you till the stable, meanwhile you muttered something in Latin.

‘Rosa, rosae, rosae…’.

And he simply looked at you with worried eyes.

“… what was that?”.

“Just a little warning” you commented, getting Bukefalos out of his stables.

“… you are joking, aren’t you, (Y/N)?”.

But you ignored him, and before you knew it you heard him cursing loudly as he accidentally pressed his boot in horse shit.

Sometimes curses didn’t have to be real to work.

---

Training with Nanna had destroyed you and as you had been forced to attend dinner in the main hall, you had almost fallen asleep with your head in the soup.

Nanna had insisted on training double, since you hadn’t attended the previous lesson, something that left you breathless and tired, even more since you had been forced to move from the defense to attack stances, something that made you uneasy, to say the least.

You didn’t feel comfortable in the slightest using violence against anybody, because not only being attacked reminded you of your father, but knowing how to kill wouldn’t have made you similar to that man you dreaded the absolute most?

‘Why do I have to learn how to attack others?’ you had muttered to Nanna, as the woman tried to teach you how to properly punch somebody, reminding you of taking the thumb out of the fist.

She had seemed to almost take personal offense to that.

‘… how do you expect to maintain your throne if you don’t fight’.

You had explained to her, that you had your own throne set up and you hadn’t much to worry, although all your thoughts of the previous afternoon weren’t comforting in the slightest.

‘… you should actually worry about your throne, even more with an husband like that’ her comment about Ivar had appeared bitter and you had tried your best to nod your head softly, taking in what looked like interesting information ‘… Ivar wants the crown’.

‘He already has it’ you had mumbled ‘… he is a prince, with numerous victories and conquered lands on his part’.

‘… and he wants more’ she had simply replied, her lips turning in a bitter expression ‘… he wants the crown of Kattegat, which Lagertha, the current queen of Kattegars, his father’s land, is withholding away from him, and believe me, he’ll fight for it and you’ll have too’.

You hadn’t replied anything anymore, although the knowledge of Ivar’s plans didn’t make you in any way more comfortable or less at uneasy about this entire day, and you almost wished it’d just be over soon.

But it certainly all explained why the brothers’ relationships were so tense among them.

And why Ivar had called you ‘queen’.

You felt him nudging you lightly, as you stood with the spoon so close and yet so far away from your mouth, stopped midair.

You quickly pushed the soup in your mouth, grimacing at the fact that the soup had grown cold, but forcing a few more bites of it on your mouth, because although you weren’t hungry, your body needed some food.

“… want me to feed you” commented Ivar, with a smirk on his face as he drunk a cup of ale, meanwhile you sent him a light glare, through your hooded eyes, pushing a final spoon past your lips, keeping it there, as you sleepily looked for a small towel to clean your face “… it has been a tough day, we’ll go to sleep, as soon as you are done with food”.

“Can you pass me your crutch? I might need it to go back” you mumbled, as you leaned lightly on him, for the simple fact that he was damnably warm and you were lightly cold from the bath you had done before coming there, your hair lightly damp, but pushed in a soft updo to dry them faster.

“… you certainly didn’t lose your humor alongside your appetite” he laughed, before he took in your hand to help you up, excusing you and him from his brothers, who barely sent him a look, except Hvitserk who told him that ‘he shouldn’t work you so hard’ and ‘he should give you a break’, in a way that seemed to reference to something that you and Ivar had never done together.

“… Hvitserk, want anymore horseshit?” you mumbled, unable to withhold any curtesy, something that got to Hvitserk quickly as he sat back down, meanwhile you felt Ivar hide a small smirk behind his hand.

The rest of the walk was done in silence, as you slumped next to each other, your handmaidens welcoming you inside, and you dismissed them, giving them some orders for tomorrow, as you felt a strange agitation brewing among them since, the following day, you were supposed to be choosing a dress for the party that was to be held in three days.

The girls had been told that they could have chosen a dress each in order to properly take part to the celebrations, and they had been thrilling happily for the whole afternoon, and you doubted they’d be able to sleep, too excited for the dresses.

Unlike you.

You unfastened Ivar’s braces, noticing that although he had humored you back at the dinner table, he now seemed almost distant to you, and you didn’t know if he was simply tired or there was something more.

But at the same time, deep down, you knew that with Ivar there was something more.

He was already in bed, when you finished brushing your hair and you were in your nightgown, dragging your heavy limbs towards the bed, as you sat on its end, being able to face Ivar, who looked extremely surprised by your position.

“Is anything wrong?” you thought about asking, although Ivar simply shook his head “… is it… is it for Alexander?”.

You had hit straight up in the bullseye, with the way his eyes shone of true annoyance.

“… we are solely friends” you commented “… I was a lonely child and he was the only one who indulged in silly games”.

Still silence, and you thought that if it had to go on like this, you had to drop the big news.

“… and I did have a slight infatuation on him, back then”.

This got to him, finally.

He simply moved to push himself in a seated position.

“… do you still like him?” it was a demand that made you laugh, as Ivar looked at you extremely serious.

“As a friend, but nothing more than that” you simply stated “… I… was a gullible girl, back then… and he was so handsome…”.

“I am not interested in hearing it” he commented with a rather sour tone, and you couldn’t help but smirk lightly, as you moved to settle closer to him, till you were eye-to-eye.

He tried to push himself away, but you held him in place.

“… it wasn’t love, it was a simple crush” you explained “… he broke my heart and I realized how hollow my feelings for him truly were. And from then on, it was only friendship from me”.

Ivar’s gaze seemed to lightly calm itself, although he didn’t look convinced.

“You have nothing to fear, truly”.

“Yeah, the cripple has for sure nothing to fear” he commented grumpily and you brought him instead to look at you in the face, not wanting this to push something between you, when you were so close with him.

Your life was a mess and strangely that blue-eyed heathen was the only relief you had been getting, lately.

The only good thing.

And this close, you wanted to kiss him.

Again, and again.

“… if it makes your ego feel better, I found you more handsome than Alexander” you confessed, as you gently moved an hand on his partially unbuttoned tunic, gently nearing the naked skin, as you felt Ivar take a sharp intake of breath.

“Don’t make fun of me” he commented loudly, making to turn around, but you stopped him and you made him look at you in the eyes.

“… I don’t” you muttered “… from the moment I saw you, I just found myself fascinated with you”.

He blushed, although he didn’t look convinced.

“I now love Alexander, with the same intensity I love Hvitserk, so you shouldn’t worry” you adjusted yourself to slip under the cover, moving closer to Ivar to make him avoid pushing you away “… there isn’t anything you should be worried about”.

“… because you are so enamored with me” he uttered sarcastically, and although you knew that it was damnably wrong both for your beliefs and both for the fact that you would have to betray him, you were starting to slowly feel something for him.

“I am starting to be…” you admitted, and you knew that any disbelief Ivar had pushed itself away, at your tender expression, something that you wouldn’t have been able to fake.

Gently a hand of his threaded its way through your hair, as he brought you closer, pressing softly your lips against his, something that made smile brightly, as you embraced him loosely.

If this life of yours would end up in a painful way, you’d enjoy all the pleasure you found.

That tender kiss was followed by a few more, till you were comfortably snuggled in Ivar’s arms, as you giggled at his bold gestures, eventually settling on a kiss to your forehead, insisting you both fell asleep, before it was too late.

But your body ached for more, definitely awake.

“… but seriously Ivar, I don’t… I don’t feel bad for you, and this isn’t pity” you muttered, tantalizing brushing your lips together, as he tightened his grip on your hair “… you are… different that is right, but you aren’t… you are more than anybody else because of that, I am sure, I swear it on the crown”.

He looked at you intensely and again you couldn’t understand what was going through his head, but you knew you had to say it.

The knowledge of your imminent death suddenly making you bold.

“… you are starting to blabber silly things, wife, you must be truly tired” he commented, but his eyes shone of true thankfulness, as he kissed your nose, tickling you softly, as he brought you closer, almost as if you were his own pillow “… go to sleep, lovely”.

“I like it when you call me that” you softly muttered, but closed your eyes and sleep took you over.

---

You slept comfortably, although it wasn’t anything more than an endless slumber, black but relaxing.

Your limbs felt as heavy as iron, and as you moved on your side to find a more comfortable pose, grimacing at the pain that shot from a small hit you had received the previous day, meanwhile you were training with Lia.

The handmaiden had tried to apologize, but you had simply complimented her on her strong right hook, making her laugh awkwardly, as she checked your face for any improper reply.

You felt Ivar matching your movements, bringing you back to his chest, as he softly moved you closer, making you smirk.

A week before he had been so cold with you, enough to make you feel at great unease, but now…

… he was cuddling you closer, as if you were of extreme value.

“… would you mind staying still?” he commented, making you well aware that he had woken up at the same time you had turned around, his grouchy voice making you rub unconsciously your legs together.

“It is late” you commented, seeing the sun pouring up through the thick veils of your tent, but what made you aware that you had both overslept was the fact that you could hear the life of the settlement moving up all around you.

Something that you strangely found familiar.

“… don’t you have some mischievous plan to plot?” you teased Ivar, feeling him growl annoyedly at your comment, as he turned on his back.

“You are devious” he lightly pinched your side, making you elbow him right back, although you laughed loudly “… and I do have things to do, but I don’t… I don’t want to get up”.

The confession made your body tremble lightly, because it felt truly heartfelt.

You knew that Ivar had some kind of infatuation with you or with at least the artificial version of you he had in his mind.

And you had survived for that, among the Vikings.

But his latest comment felt damnably true, as if both your feelings for each other were becoming… real.

And it almost scared you.

“… me neither” you mumbled, as his head shot to you, surprised by your own admission, finally bringing you closer as you felt the cleavage of your nightgown slide down and the part on your legs riding up “… but if I don’t bring my handmaidens to Hilde, this morning, they’ll organize a conspiracy against me”.

“I doubt it” protested Ivar loudly, pushing himself softly onto you, to physically prevent you from raising yourself “… they are all enamored with you”.

“Uh uh” you nodded lightly, as your eyes twinkled lightly “… I can actually think of a few people that don’t want me here”.

His eyes became sharp, as you commented that, a threat in them.

Not against you.

But against anybody who had dared hurting you.

Part of you almost wanted to confess him the pain your father had made you undergo, alongside the one that would happen when all of this was over.

Because you knew that he’d shelter you form that.

“… you are very much wanted here” he breathed on your lips, as he lightly pushed your hair away from your face, with a delicateness that made you blush, as you leaned in his hand “... please stay this morning in bed”.

“I can’t” you bit your lips, feeling like it was a true ache to your chest.

But you knew that you couldn’t indulge any longer.

You had to finish the letter to send to Alexander before lunch time, since you had asked him to join you for lunch and you had to go to Hilde, since she had already sent you a small note to let you know that she had a dress for you.

The fact that you hadn’t asked one made you a bit confused by the request of the tailor, but you loved deeply the creations she had gotten for you, hence you couldn’t deny her.

“… what if I made you stay” and then he was on top of you, a pleasurable oppression, that made you laugh, as his hands went to tickle your side, a playful side of him coming out as you tried to kick him away, completely exiting the fight disheveled, but victorious, once you put one of your cold feet on his chest.

“I won’t tell anybody that I won” you promised him with a teasing smirk on your face, as you finally managed to slip away from his hold, although you had to admit that it was definitely less warm than Ivar’s arms, who simply pouted at you.

“… I let you win” he stated, with a stubborn look, as you simply showed him your tongue, making him crack a laugh “… ok ok, I’ll let you go, but give me a kiss first”.

“Say ‘please’ ” it was almost natural, the banter between you, and Ivar shot you a quick look, before he added:

“… give me a kiss, please” and you did.

You leaned in, being the first one that initiated the kiss between you, and it was tender, as Ivar this time was mindful of his tongue, preferring to suck on your upper lip and then bottom one, before you tried something, something that you had solely read about: you bit his lower lip, dragging it through your teeth, as you moved away from the kiss.

Ivar growled and soon he was yanking on your hands, not delicately in the slightest, but you found yourself not caring at all, when he returned the favor, biting you back, although his hold didn’t bruise, but it certainly made you moan softly.

And then he was away from you, your own punishment for having chastised him away quickly this morning, having denied him.

“… don’t you have somewhere to be?” he teased you, as you shot him annoyed look, but eventually moved out of the bed.

“You are impossible” you retorted, but before you turned completely, you saw the way his eyes flickered with interest for you.

“Don’t spend your entire dowry my wife” he commented, staying in bed like a playful cat, as he stared up at you.

“Fear not, husband” you replied tightly, as you moved to the chair in front of your private desk, brushing away your hair, and you adjusted back the few jewels you had started wearing, gently opening the tent to tell the awaiting handmaidens, Arabella and Angelika, that morning, to wait a few more minutes, giving Ivar the chance to hide in his private alcove, and set himself up.

You got ready quickly almost on your own, since you hadn’t chosen a particularly complex dress, knowing that you’d have to try another one on, so you settled for a simple cream-colored gown, with golden accents, but nothing that was too tight.

Although the fabric was rich, since you had to meet up with Alexander, having finished the letter, meanwhile Angelika adjusted your hair (she was strangely good at it) and Arabella made you choose which essence to wear on your skin, it wasn’t one of your most luxurious dress.

You had pushed it into Arabella’s hands, assuring her to give it to one of the guards for Alexander, hoping that they wouldn’t read what was inside, although you hadn’t written anything scandalous.

Once you were ready to go, Ivar exited his own private quarters, revealing that he had bathed himself, and was again pushing himself in the braces, adjusting them on his own.

“… I am leaving and I’ll be back again for dinner time” you saluted him, coming closer to him, till you were face to face, and he pushed a light kiss on your hands “… have a blessed day, Ivar”.

“You as well, lovely one”.

You blushed, before you moved with the two girls on your tail, Angelika again shooting you a knowing look, meanwhile Arabella moved to send the letter out.

You moved to Hilde’s shop, the small woman welcoming you eagerly, as the handmaidens slowly appeared, all knowing the hour to meet you at the stop, as quite the crowd gathered around.

“My queen, you look more beautiful each day passing” Hilde bowed to you, as you ushered her to stand, denying her words gently, but accepting her compliments “… and you certainly do not lack of a loyal entourage”.

“… and they are all excited to try on your dresses” you commented excitedly, as the woman quickly moved to look at the other girls, as if she was searching what might fit them more.

“Oh yes, I know” she commented, as she moved to look up at you “… I saw in my dreams a flock of swans coming to my lake, and I knew that you wouldn’t have been alone today, sweetheart”.

You blushed at the affectionate comment, before Hilde moved away from to you, to examine each girl, as they reacted strangely meanwhile the smaller Nordic woman went past them, pulling on their hair or grabbing their hands to see the inside of it, muttering things such as ‘royal blue would suit’ or ‘green eyes for a golden gown’.

You smiled, feeling a bit at ease seeing your handmaidens starting to chat among each other, almost as if nothing had changed from their courtly life.

Almost as if they had settled in, like you.

You were quickly distracted, finding yourself to think that although you had been damnably scared by the Viking life, you were slowly growing into it, with their loose dress and most importantly… pants.

Although you were still uneasy about the entire ‘godly parts’, mostly their rituals.

Talking with Ivar during dinner last night, you had discovered that they’d be offering a sacrifice to the gods, that to your honor would have been an animal and not a human.

The sole thought of a human being sacrificed made your stomach turn around, and you were grateful you hadn’t done breakfast, hoping to eat something at the small market in the settlement.

Thankfully your head was pushed away from this by Hilde’s hands, grabbing onto yours with a tight grip, as she dragged inside her small tent, getting a piece of fabric down from a metal hanger in the semi-darkness of the tent, allowing a bit of privacy as she closed the tent behind herself.

A clear invite to try on the dress, which you found quite difficult to fit on your body, unused to this shape, and when you got out, all your handmaidens came around you, Angelika and Arabella barely holding back a laugh, meanwhile Caryn moved to adjust it alongside Lia.

Solveig, instead, lightly combed your messed-up hair with her wrinkly fingers, laughing at you, and when you were halfway settled, you turned to look at yourself in the small mirror outside of her tent, and… blushed.

The dress was of a deep purplish red, the color of royalty, set up on your middle with a golden belt, that tightened the dress, although it was left lightly puffy on the chest, in asymmetric cut that resembled the many dresses you had seen in the pictures of books about ancient Greece.

The lower part wasn’t tight but held a slit to allow you a more comfortable walk, but also exposing so much skin that you weren’t exactly sure would have been thought to be appropriate.

And it made your nervous.

It was beautiful.

But you had never worn anything like this.

And you weren’t sure it fitted you, rightfully.

Although it highlighted perfectly your body, you weren’t sure you had been able to bring justice to it.

“… Hilde it is beautiful” you commented softly, as you turned to her, who smiled at you”…but I am not sure… I mean… I am not sure it is made for me”.

Hilde had seemed shocked and almost offended, and you had immediately tried to explain to her why you didn’t feel like this dress belonged to you, although it was one of the most beautiful you had ever worn.

“… my queen” called out to you Hilde, with her usual emphasis on your title-that-wasn’t-yet-your-title “… I see insecurity in your own body, your eyes tell me that you aren’t used, but you have nothing to hide. You shine with beauty inside and out”.

You couldn’t help but be taken back by that comment, although you weren’t fully convinced, looking at yourself again in the mirror and noticing every little flaw of your body, as you had always done.

“… the crazy tailor is right” commented Angelika in English, making you blush lightly, as you were surprised by her words “… I hate to admit it, but you are prettier than me in that dress”.

“Girls! Check her temperature!” you joked to try to shimmer away the blush you felt on your cheeks “… she must be sick for what she is saying”.

“… but you look very very pretty, princess (Y/N)!” commented one of the youngest handmaidens, making you smile, as you bowed lightly.

“Believe me that dress fit you perfectly, girlie” added Solveig, adjusting the dress so that it could flow around you more perfectly “… many years to adjust dresses and I know when one just is… the one”.

“Ok ok” you ended up saying, unable to think of another way to refuse the gentle women “… I’ll take it”.

A chorus of laughter and mumbles of assent welcomed you, as Hilde then moved to offer various suggestions to the girls, as they entered her tent, leaving it as gorgeous princesses and beautiful ladies, as they commented all on the easiness of the dresses, comfortable as they twirled barefooted.

You hadn’t ever thought of being able to laugh like this, without your sister.

And suddenly something felt heavy on your chest.

Abigail and Kathleen.

What were they doing right now?

Did Kathleen know already you were safe and sound?

You’d have to suggest to Alexander to send her a letter to let her know you weren’t at risk of death anymore.

The morning soon passed in a whirlwind of fabric and you insisting to pay Hilde at least for the dresses of your beloved handmaidens, to which the woman agreed, as she clasped tight onto your hand, making you lower yourself closer to her.

‘… hard times are coming for you, my little bird’ she spoke with a tender tone, as her eyes were truthful ‘… that’s why I want you to feel like a queen, because that’s what you are, and you should never ever forget it’.

And although you had never believed this kind of thing, the words left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you moved to the place where you were supposed to meet Alexander, accompanied by Eleanor and Caryn, as always keeping her promise of serving you, and although you wanted nothing more than to go back to the intimacy you had.

But it seemed impossible.

“Princess, do you think that it is proper to meet another man without prince Ivar’s approval?” asked softly Eleanor, the more demure of your handmaidens, with soft hips and an amber gaze, and although you cherished her sweetness, you shot her a slight look, before you commented.

“… if you won’t say anything, I won’t either”.

And Caryn’s eyes spoke of a complicity that you recognized.

And hope wouldn’t be mistaken.

You knew that asking Ivar Ivar’s permission would have been as useful as trying to make a hole in the water, and that if you hadn’t done this, Alexander would have thought that you were still under the influence of Ivar, and he would have prolonged his staying here.

And as much as it didn’t weigh on you, it certainly did weigh on your reputation among the Vikings.

And Alexander’s staying was damnably painful.

It reminded you of past times, of different times that wouldn’t have ever come again.

Thankfully Alexander was a gentleman and didn’t make you wait, as your handmaidens moved to adjust everything to leave you a bit of privacy, and your best friend courtly bowed to you, kissing your hand, as he took in your curious appearance.

“… might I say that I haven’t still wrapped my mind around the Viking fashion?” he commented making you laugh light and blush painfully as you felt inadequate in your dress “… yesterday you wore pants”.

“They are comfortable” you tried protesting “… but we aren’t here to talk about me”.

“We are, I mean… I was sent to see if you were in brilliant shape which I might confirm” he commented dashingly “… you look beautiful, my princess”.

A slight blush spread on your cheeks, but nothing in you fluttered the way it did when Ivar gave you a compliment, to prove further the fact that you didn’t feel anything anymore for Alexander.

“… I am happy of this” you replied “… they treat me well, they haven’t hurt me”.

“You have been involved in a conspiration because of your husband!” he tried to shout, as you shot him an apologetic look.

“:.. wouldn’t it have happened also if I had remained in court?” you shot back, knowingly, as Alexander lightly hung his head between his shoulders as if he had been defeated.

“That’s why I told my father that I won’t take on his role till he dies…” he mumbled, as his eyes shot away from you and onto the land that bordered the Viking settlements “… I don’t want to be corrupted by any of that…”.

“… shit?” you tempted him, as this time it was his cheeks that blushed lightly.

“They corrupted you”.

“Actually… Kathleen taught me that” you replied, as he shot you an even more surprised look.

“Oh Gosh, have I missed you princess (Y/N)”.

---

The lunch had been quite satisfying and you had been glad to spend some time with Alexander, although the notion that he’d go back to England, and that you’d stay here was almost painful.

Training and the harmless chatter among your handmaidens felt comfortable to forget, but when you were left alone to wait for Ivar, who planned your return to Kattegat with his brothers, bad thoughts crowded your mind.

Not even your beloved books could satisfy you, and you were left to do nothing more than think about what would have happened if anything had happened to you once all of this was over and how guilty you felt at betraying Ivar, although you were doing it for the greater good.

Or at least this is what you said.

You were readjusting yourself on the bed for the fifth time, after you had sent both Turid and Solveig away, although the latter had made a small herb brewing to ease your soul.

Turid, instead, had been a quite peaceful presence, although you had started learning her way of communicate her needs, mostly noticing the way her eyes would follow lingering closer prince Hvitserk, when he came to eat with you in your tent.

And you had the good thought to tell him to keep his hands to himself, if he wanted to keep them.

Ivar caught you in a rather awkward position trying to read, as he walked in, unable to withhold a small smirk, as you readjusted with your cheeks full of red blush, trying to shimmer away the attention, telling him that Hvitserk had dropped some dinner also for him…

… hadn’t he decided to steal it, at the last minute.

‘… what a thoughtful thing’ he commented, joining you on bed, as you scrunched your nose to tell him not to drop anything on the clean sheets, since as much as you wouldn’t be the one changing them, you didn’t like to use Solveig or Turid more than necessary.

They had also had a dress, although both had insisted against it, saying they were low thralls born in slavery who had both grown up with nothing as precious as the dresses, but you couldn’t deny that they were part of the familiar group you had been slowly creating.

Turid with her comforting presence and Solveig with wisdom.

“… I’ll be careful” he commented softly, a light shiver going down your spine at that scruffy mumble “… but is everything alright with you?”.

“Just too many thoughts in my little head” you mumbled, softly, meanwhile Ivar basically ate the whole piece of meat in one bite, turning to you at that affirmation, as you moved to come to his side.

“… your head isn’t little, I think it is quite the contrary” he replied, gently kissing it, once he cleared his mouth ruthlessly on his dirty tunic, and you giggled scooting away, although the gesture had been quite welcome “… but that can be a curse, because it does indeed open us to too many thoughts and it is tiring”.

“You can say that”.

“Can I help you with your thoughts?” spoke tightly Ivar, as his eyes looked at you as if he wanted to know them but knew not to step further on your boundaries.

“I don’t think that there is much that will help me” you muttered sadly, leaning lightly your hand on his shoulder “… do you know something that might make me think about everything else than what is stuck in my mind”.

“… I might have a few ideas” and a few moments after you were set in front of a chess board, one of the many gifts that your father had brought to Ivar for your hand in marriage.

The figures were refinished but also long-lasting, as you examined through your fingers, meanwhile Ivar started to explain you the game and you felt the utter satisfaction of tell him that ‘you did know how to play’.

‘Who taught you?’ he had asked, meanwhile he adjusted the pieces on the board, him being the black ones and you the white ones,

‘Nobody, except myself. My father would have me and my sisters in the same room with him, meanwhile he played it, and I slowly took in his playing and strategies’.

What you were less happy was the fact that Ivar played much more brilliantly than your father, and soon you had two lost games on your shoulders.

‘This doesn’t make me feel better in the slightest’ you mumbled annoyedly, meanwhile Ivar set up the board again, laughing at your comment ‘… you should let me win’

“… that wouldn’t make it very fair”.

“But it would make me feel better”.

He laughed, before leaning in and pecking softly your lips, for the first time without you asking or igniting the kiss, something that made you cherish its sweetness and the comfortable way he was starting to make you feel around him.

“… just focus a bit more”.

And you did, trying to focus on the strategy that Ivar used, since although he was brilliant, his schemes were recurring and you had to break them, playing dirty as you smirked at Ivar, lowering lightly one sleeve of your nightgown, adjusting it meanwhile Ivar lost his bishop.

And then his king.

He looked displeased of having lost, but it didn’t take him long to calm himself, as he saw the sweet smile that appeared on your lips, and you had to admit that your mind was a bit less clouded, as you asked him again to play another game.

‘… I am feeling giddy over having won the great Ivar The Boneless, now you can’t seriously expect me to go to sleep’.

And you had played till very deep in the night, enough that you had both fall asleep on the board, risking a few pieces falling down the bed as you woke up with your back aching but strangely relaxed, Ivar’s hands having drifted gently onto yours, almost touching.

“… if anybody asks…” he muttered, before you both dove under the covers “… we slept like this because we were both tired and not because we spent the entire night playing chess”.

“Understood, my prince” you commented, finishing the deal with a soft kiss on his cheek, as he blushed, laughing lightly “… we could have breakfast in bed, I’ll just have to tell Turid, if you want to readjust the covers in the meanwhile…”.

“That seems lovely” he commented, before his gaze caught onto you “… you are lovely”.

“I doubt it” you moved away, to hide your blushing cheeks, meanwhile Ivar instead brought you closer to him, pushing you onto his laps, as you immediately hid your face between your fingers.

“… you look beautiful” he tried to push your hands away, meanwhile he brought you closer “… (Y/N) the Lovely, that’s what they should call you”.

“That sounds tantalizing delightful” you commented, trying to get away from him, as suddenly your mind became awake with horrible thoughts, thoughts about the fact that Ivar didn’t know that your beauty was nothing but a front.

Whatever he found beautiful in you, would have been his damnation.

“You are tantalizing delightful” he said it in English, making you tremble at his thick accent, before he let you up, a slight blush on his own face, as you felt his lower body against you, a sensation that made you giddy, but you quickly set up to your own mission, meanwhile Ivar did his.

You covered yourself with a thick woolen mantle, not trying to think about the sinful way you had almost wanted Ivar a few minutes ago, but you honestly should stop, if not for yourself, for some correctness for him, who seemed thoroughly enamored with you.

And he was starting to like you for you.

And it was a beautiful sensation for somebody who had never had something like that, but you felt like you were leeching on that love.

And it pained you.

Turid was already awake and was more than happy to steal a few sweets from you, meanwhile Solveig gave a few orders around, mostly because Hilde had sent the dresses and they had to be adjusted and brought to its rightful owner.

You were glad to help her a bit, not fully knowing why you didn’t feel comfortable approaching Ivar yet, not after your small dialogue.

“… slept well, my lady?” piped in Angelika, strangely already awake, as she set beside you and Solveig.

“Heavenly” you muttered, hissing through your teeth.

“… you should learn when to speak and when to keep your mouth closed” muttered in Norse Solveig, getting surprised when Angelika shot her an annoyed look, obviously annoyed and completely understanding what the Viking thrall said.

“And you that I can completely understand you” retorted Angelika with the fakest smile, as Solveig shot her one poisonous of her own, something that made you move between them, before things could escalate.

“… calm down” you commented to both “… it is just morning”.

“It is never too early for anything” Angelika replied, before moving away, as Lia came to get her in an attempt to avoid any fights, for which you were thankful “… and I am joining you this afternoon, for the training”.

She said it almost as if she was the leader, the princess of the castle, and you were able to simply nod.

You were almost thankful when Turid came back with the breakfast, warning Solveig to avoid Angelika, as the old woman simply shot you another look as if to say that ‘she had handled worse’.

You moved back in the tent, surprised not to see Ivar, but you quickly heard water splashing, as your private bathroom was lightly closed by the rough piece of fabric that divided it from the rest of the tent, thick enough to hide from the gaze.

But not from the ears of others.

In fact, you heard a few grumbles, that became suddenly more animalistic gruntles, something that made you question whether Ivar was hurt, as you lightly called out his name, the noises from the bathroom completely disappearing.

Ivar replied tightly, his voice slightly high and feminine, as he invited you to start eating without me.

‘Just leave me something, little beastie’.

‘Don’t even try’ you replied, forgetting quickly about the strange behavior of Ivar, simply thinking that he was bathing, and the grumbles and grunts were due to his strain in moving around the bathtub.

On his most tired days, he’d need also help.

It was confirmed as Ivar came back, his hair lightly wet, as he slithered around the bed, since he hadn’t worn his braces, to come up to you, raising himself onto the bed, solely through the help of his arm, a show that made you hot and bothered, as you blushed at that wondrous sight.

“… did I ruin your appetite?” mumbled grumpily Ivar, as he saw that you had stopped eating to observe him, something that made you almost choke on what you were eating “… well that is the most dramatic reaction I ever got”.

But he gently offered you ale, that you refused, and once you were able to breath without tasting the sweet in your nose, you moved to softly lean in, closer to him, reassuring him physically that he didn’t disgust you, since you were slowly starting to understand that with him anything physical was more effective than words.

“I was actually admiring you” you commented coyly, seeing a slight blush appear on his cheeks.

“… admiring me?”.

“Yes” you nodded softly, as you took one of the sweets, and moved to feed it to Ivar, who seemed an hungry and curious beast, looking at you with smart eyes, as you moved to gently slip the sweet past his plump lips “… you must have noticed that I might have a slight fascination with your muscles”.

“You do?” there was genuine surprise in his eyes, as you lightly retreated the sugary treats from his lips, before they could wrap around it.

“… I do” you were now suddenly the one all blushy.

And Ivar looked all smug about it, as he moved to softly bit onto the treat in your hand, but you quickly moved it away from him, before pushing it onto your mouth.

He shot you an offended look and then he turned to you and before you knew it, he pushed you down the bed, playfully, properly pinning you down, as you laughed softly, but were quickly shut up by Ivar kissing you.

And he chased the taste of the sweet in your mouth, as you laughed softly, at the affection.

“… you are an hungry minx” he commented, as he grabbed a sweet, meanwhile you were too taken aback by the kiss to properly react like a human creature “… but I am glad you like my muscles”.

“Don’t push it” you muttered, knowing that you had dug your own tomb.

“Oh, I will” he replied, kissing your forehead “… I’ll walk shirtless simply for the pleasure of teasing you princess”.

“That’d definitely help me with my bad thoughts”.

You both erupted in laughter, as you exchanged sweets and kisses.

And then Ivar left you, surprising you one last time, as he told you that he had taken it upon himself to invite Alexander over for dinner, which surprised you, but Ivar simply told you that it was better ‘to keep your enemies closer’.

And although you were glad that you hadn’t to undergo anything unknown to Ivar to see your friend, you had a bad feeling about it.

But you didn’t say much more to Ivar, as you said your ‘goodbyes’ to him with a soft kiss, that Ivar deepened dirtily, making you moan softly, something that brought a beautiful color on your cheeks.

That Hvitserk noticed immediately as he come to lounge in your tent, in a vague attempt of stealing the leftovers of your breakfast with Ivar.

‘… you got the hots for my brother, don’t you?’ he commented, before he seemed to rethink over the words he had said ‘… I never thought I’d say that’.

“Then don’t say it” you mumbled, trying to appear busy as you wrote letters to your sisters, hoping that Alexander could bring them to their recipients “… don’t stick your nose in my business or…”.

“… or you’ll curse me, I know… I know” he muttered under his breath “… it is just that… I haven’t seen Ivar this happy in… so much… since…”.

“… since what?” you asked, your spying personality finally coming up as your ears peaked up, although your father’s own purposes were quite away from your own, in that moment, and you wanted to know it all just to make you understand more Ivar.

As a lover would do.

“… since our mother’s death” Hvitserk’s growl let out much more emotion than his eyes did, a tight smirk replacing his usual open smile “… he hasn’t thought about much else than his revenge, actually”.

“Revenge?” you felt almost dumbfounded discovering all of this “… on who?”.

You couldn’t help but feel a shrill of worry and fear, as if you were suddenly travelling in unknown territory and you weren’t sure to have the means to exit it.

“… on Lagertha, our mother’s murderer” he explained, almost as if it was a bitter bite, too much for him, sadly “… Ivar took it at heart especially, he and our mother, Aslaug had a close bond”.

“I am sorry for your loss, still” you commented softly, as you moved a hand to grip on Hvitserk’s one, who simply smirked sadly at you, exiting quickly your hold on his hand.

“It didn’t… it didn’t affect me as much as it affected Ivar” he simply justified it “… to me his crazy plan to get revenge is… crazy, indeed”.

You couldn’t help but see uneasiness and eagerness in Hvitserk’s eyes, almost as if he hadn’t ever been asked his opinion about this, and at the same time he ached for it, in a way that made everything unsolved.

“Christians frown upon revenge” you said, softly “… but I lost a mother and although revenge wouldn’t bring her back, I sometimes… I do understand why Ivar feels like that”

You knew that this was a deep confession for you, since you had never dared to admit your feelings against your father to anybody.

You knew that although he hadn’t killed your mother, his constant beatings had made her frail health even more at danger, and then one day they had been too much.

And your mother laid lifeless, white as a lily on her bed.

And you had cried your heart out.

Also fear had always shone in your eyes, and it had been confessed to your sisters, but you had never commented the anger against your father that brew inside of you, and suddenly was let out, as Hvitserk sent you a small surprised look, before you shook the bad feeling away from your face, feigning again innocence.

“… it is just that sometimes Ivar can be extreme”.

“On that I agree”.

“… is he also extreme in bed?” Hvitserk lightly wiggled his eyebrows, as you elbowed him, something that stole the breath away from the young boy.

“Why are you all so noisy?”.

“Because you are the wife of a prince” he smirked, before assuming a royal tone “… your own life doesn’t belong to you anymore, but to the people”.

“… that seems utter bullshit” your profanity made Hvitserk shoot a surprised look at your profanity “… I learned from the best”.

“I can’t believe that you think I am the best at something” Hvitserk crooked a soft a smile at you “… but this won’t avoid a talk about all the things that could embarrass my brother”.

“… you should stop doing that” the mutter left your mouth, and your brother-in-law looked at you confusedly “… trying to embarrass Ivar”.

“It is just brotherly teasing” he almost seemed annoyed by your noisy invasion.

“… not it isn’t” you commented tightly, because although you didn’t want to annoy Hvitserk “… I have sisters, and although you think that we, women, are tamer than you, believe me we are as ruthless as males if not more… and we don’t… sometimes with Ivar you seem a bit too mean”.

“… you don’t know him” Hvitserk’s anger shine his own words, and you knew that you should have kept your mouth shut.

“… I just know that it should be teasing and not anger” you commented and Hvitserk’s eyes lowered, almost admitting that you were right “… but what can I know, I am simply a stupid woman”.

That’s what your father would have told you.

But Hvitserk simply grabbed your hand this time.

“… you are a blessing, princess”.

---

The rest of the day had slowly moved itself in a monotonous pace, something that had made the dinner the most interesting part of the day, but as soon as Alexander moved in, completely closed off, you found yourself revaluing your excitedness.

‘Come, lord Alexander, or at least that is the title that my wife told me you own…’ commented Ivar, with a snobby smirk that made you also uneasy, and you shot him a light look to tell him to be ‘nice’ ‘… sit beside us, it’ll be our honor’.

Alexander hadn’t reacted in a better way, nodding as he bowed to you, but not to any of the brothers, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Ivar and Ubbe, both grimacing, meanwhile Bjorn looked too drunk for it as he talked with Halfdan and Hvitserk was already staring at a few of his ‘victims’ of the night.

You welcomed Alexander with an attentive mind, as he complimented your choice of dress, a deep maroon one, bordering with red, and lined with argent details, something that gave you a mature look, definitely more Saxon.

“… are you having a nice staying?” you asked softly, as you turned to Alexander, knowing that not many would approach him and that Ivar had already started a conversation with Ubbe, in Norse, probably talking shit about Alexander, if you were understanding right.

“I am, and the men are used to worse” joked Alexander “… the settlements seem… truly a work of art or… of the Devil”.

“That’s because you haven’t seen the marketplace” you commented gingerly, gaining an amazed look from Alexander “… I told you: they might be Vikings but they aren’t heathens”.

“And silly me who thought they were the same thing”.

The dinner continued among your chatters and your soft laughs, as Ivar sometimes would gently grip your hair or rub your thigh over your dress, almost a confirmation that you were still there.

That you were with him, beside him.

And you would answer, turning for a sweet smile solely for him.

And Alexander would roll his eyes.

But what got truly a reaction from him was when you revealed to him why you would be hosting celebrations, for the lands that you had given up on Ivar, as his eyes showed true offense.

“… why did you?!”.

“It’s no big deal, Alexander” you replied, trying to calm him down, meanwhile you saw heads turning to you and since your popularity rate was negative, you tried to avoid a scene “… he told he’ll give me back those lands”.

“… your lands, exactly!” he shouted, and Ivar behind you stiffened, his hand tightening around the knife on his side, and you comforted him with a quick look, as you invited Alexander out, your tight and strong tone surprising him enough that when realization kicked in, you were already out.

“You don’t understand Alexander” you commented once you were out of earshot “… I did this to keep you protected”.

“I should be the one doing it” also his tone was a bright hiss “… and I have been failing miserably at it”.

“I don’t need protecting” you replied tightly, surprised at those words, because had Alexander uttered the same words a few years ago you would have fallen in his arms.

But you had undergone so much that you felt numb.

And that you knew you could handle yourself.

Although it was ungrateful.

But Alexander’s behavior was out of line, completely.

“… it doesn’t seem so” his tone surprised you, because although you knew that Alexander could be arrogant, his tone now was down right derisive “… you have been involved in a conspiration and you have had to give up on lands that belonged to you by birthright”.

“But I am still alive!” you shouted, in exasperation, as he backed away from you “… it might seem idiotic, but let me tell you… I have survived so much that I know how to take care of myself”.

You hadn’t ever been that knowing of your willingness to live as in that moment.

And you had never felt that strong as in that moment.

And you looked like it straightening up your back.

You weren’t a pawn in this game anymore.

Since the conspiracy had set a target on your head, you had taken a more active role.

And you wouldn’t relent it.

“My father will probably has explained you why I am here truly…” you whispered lightly, trying not to be heard, although only night was around you “… he bargained my life with the devil. And let me tell you that I thought I’d have been destroyed, but I am here, I am still here”.

This was your own kingdom and you wouldn’t relent the crown easily, although you knew your role and you’d follow your father’s orders, but you wouldn’t tolerate the prejudices and prohibitions everyone around you gave you.

And then suddenly, before you could register his movements, Alexander was onto you.

He was kissing you.

And you were too surprised to react properly.

But something settled in you.

Dreariness of having been forced in the act, that made you immediately push away your old best friend, as you would have done with an attacker, focusing on the strength of your arms hitting him on the chest with your elbows, since he was stronger than you.

And then you felt free.

For the rest operated his surprise.

And soon he was off you.

And you couldn’t deny your surprise

As a feeling of hollowness settled on your stomach.

It was matched by the disgust on your lips at such a gesture, something that seemed more an arrogant claiming of you than a true kiss.

And you didn’t belong to anybody.

“… what?” you asked him, as you brought a hand to your lips, wondering whether it had happened or not, but the look of pure hurt on Alexander confirmed that he had indeed kissed you “… we can’t”.

“We could run away” now his eyes moved into an almost manic state, something that made you nervous “… we could run away and hide in my own lands”.

“We can’t” this time you weren’t hesitant and neither merciful “… we would be caught and believe me I just can’t leave now…”.

“… you don’t have to be your father’s spy” Alexander promised you “… this isn’t something that you have to do anymore, don’t you understand it? We can live in freedom”.

“As long as my father lives, there won’t be any freedom for me” your eyebrows furrowed annoyedly at the fact that Alexander just couldn’t understand.

You didn’t belong to anybody, but your body followed your father’s orders still.

But there was more behind it.

You didn’t want Alexander.

You weren’t in love with him.

And it wasn’t something you could fake.

“You have changed” his tone seemed almost a bittersweet reprimand “… before I left for Ireland, you wouldn’t have thought about running away with me”.

And as much as your words hurt you, you felt like they were the most appropriate.

“Before you left Ireland, I was in love with you”.

Before Ireland had been an era away.

If you had thought that entire years had passed since you had last been in England, among Saxons, and it was enough to change you completely.

But the truth is that you hadn’t changed much.

You had just scraped away the convictions and insecurities that had kept you tame.

Those words shocked Alexander, and this time he was the one who pushed himself away from you, shooting you a tight look, almost wounded, but you couldn’t live in a lie, even more when your heart was steering towards Ivar, although it shouldn’t.

You had to admit that you felt guilty for the kiss you had briefly shared with Alexander although it was unwanted.

“… and you aren’t anymore” he almost seemed heartbroken, as he got back from that angry stupor.

“I don’t think that it was love from the start” your voice were almost cutting in your own mouth “… and I know that you didn’t love me back then, we were simply good friends, and I had a crush on you, but you chased somebody else’s skirt”.

“You are bitter because I didn’t notice you back then?” his tone seemed almost spiteful, almost as insult for you.

“No, no” you spat back “… you did break my heart, but this doesn’t mean that I am trying to make you pay for it. I just… this isn’t… this isn’t anything personal, but my heart isn’t yours”.

“Is it that heathen’s?” this time his words were straight up insult, as he spat on the ground between your feet, making you tremble on your place “… I hope you won’t cry when he stabs you in the back”.

“Wife?” Ivar appeared behind the flap of the tent, right on time, as you shook your head to push back tears, walking across Alexander as you shot him a quick look “… is everything alright?”.

“I am just tired, me and Alexander have talked about important matters…” and you turned lightly at Alexander as if to tell him to keep his mouth shut “… thoughts that made me nostalgic”.

“Then I’ll lead you back to our tent” Ivar clashed his teeth together, as he sent a sour look at Alexander, as if he wanted to punish him for having made you sad, and Alexander withheld his gaze, and for a moment you thought there would be a blown out fight “… let’s go”.

You were glad to follow Ivar, feeling a horrible sensation in your chest due to Alexander’s words.

They made you feel like a traitor.

But you knew you were right.

You couldn’t reciprocate his feelings and it wouldn’t have been right for him to fake them.

Even more when he wanted a life that you couldn’t give to him.

“You look truly troubled” mumbled tightly Ivar, as he saw you dropping without too many ceremonies on your shared bed, his eyes following you attentively and you tried to shift away all those bad emotions, for a tight smile.

“I just miss my sisters and Alexander reminded me of them” you faked, although your tone sounded honest, since it had been something that you had been thinking lately, the date of your departure coming closer and closer.

Alongside whether your father would have acted before Ivar’s departure or he would have let you go away, in a new land, that was unknown to you.

“… you could visit them one day” Ivar’s words were careful, but meaningful and they surprised you, as you raised lightly to look at him in the eyes, to see if he had spoken the truth “… I know that you’ll miss them when we’ll be in Kattegat. We could visit the castle,or they could come here”.

“That’d ease my mind greatly” you replied softly “… thank you”.

Ivar’s lips gently blessed your forehead, before he went to change.

“… of course, they are your family, after all”.

And that was the last thing that you had heard before a quite slumber took you.

---

The following day had been intense, something that you had been grateful since this meant that you didn’t have to overthink Alexander’s words and that feeling of guilt you had in your chest.

You almost understood why Hilde had blessed you with that dress.

You were feeling truly shitty.

So, you were thankful when during the middle of the afternoon your handmaidens and you started getting ready for the feast, the girls all twirling in their dresses, once they had ruthlessly pushed both Ivar and Hvitserk away.

A few took care of your hair, making sure that the crown Ivar had gifted you shone in them, meanwhile others adjusted you in the dress.

You had allowed the handmaidens to borrow some of your jewels, and you had almost risked your arms being cut off when you opened the box with your most precious jewels, eventually settling up on one for each girls, trying to avoid fights.

It felt almost as your own court, with no envy and no injustices, no fear and no ignorance.

It almost made you feel pride for what you had done.

In the end you had chosen to wear the dress Hilde had gifted you, almost as a reaction to Alexander’s hateful words.

The dress would be your smart rebellion.

And as you shot one last look, once your hair was pushed up around the crown, meanwhile you wore the dress, matching it with deep rubies earrings, that brought attention to your face, giving it a clean look exposing every detail of your body, as Angelika reddened your cheeks with some natural color and Caryn highlighted with expertise your eyes with a bit of kajal.

Angelika wore a royal blue gown, which you found quite fitting for the royal-looking girl, sporting a necklace with a small sapphire at its center, bringing attention to her cleavage.

Meanwhile Caryn’s dress was light almost white, highlighting the darkness of her precious skin, in a contrast that would have blinded any man, hadn’t her beauty blinded them first, matched with a collier of silver gold.

You looked like a mix between heathens and Saxons, in something that you felt didn’t fail to represent the duality of your nature.

And you felt almost good, as you exited your tent, right in time to take part in the sacrifice, with a fur mantle on your dress, hiding it completely since that night was cold and wet, as your handmaidens scurried behind you, Solveig grabbing the light train of your dress to avoid it dirtying.

First of all, you knew that there’d be the ritual sacrifice, which would happen outside and then the dinner would happen, something that you were honestly looking forward, but for the entire ritual sacrifice, you stood by Ivar’s side, trying to keep your eyes on the killing of an innocent animal.

You already felt sick to your stomach as you witnessed that.

The killing of a human wouldn’t have been something that you could stand, but you took one step at the time.

Your eyes moved around searching for Alexander almost scared to face him again, but you knew that there’d be no Saxons, at least for the ritual.

They’d join you on the dinner, and you almost hoped that Alexander wouldn’t be there, because you didn’t know what to say, how to approach him.

Had you been the previous princess, the one that desperately strived to satisfy everyone, you would have apologized.

But now the words were rough on your tongue.

Ivar’s clutched your hand as he felt you wavering away and you simply nodded at him, as the sacrifice was finished and the priestess, the same one who had officiated your marriage, moved to deck blood onto all the brothers, starting from Bjorn and moving onto Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar.

And you, as she stained your forehead with the blood, then lightly dipping some on your mouth, something for which you had to hold back vomit, but you did gratefully bow at the priestess, who also stained with the blood your furs, right onto your belly.

‘… next month may you not bleed, my princess’ she spoke and she bowed, before moving away, Ivar and you blushing lightly at the implication, but Ivar also mumbled a few thankful words, and then you moved inside, Ivar disappearing from your side, as Hvitserk brought him away, and Bjorn took your husband’s place, guiding you towards the Great Hall.

Thankfully Angelika wasn’t much behind you and Caryn was at her side, Turid trailing after them, something that made you feel more comfortable as you moved in the already full, main hall, many people setting their eyes on top of you and Bjorn moved inside, with you by his side, making idle conversation.

‘How are you finding yourself, here?’

‘Well, then I hope that you’ll say the same in Kattegat’.

‘Does your husband have any intension to overthrow my mother?’.

You feigned innocence at the last question, glad that you had reached your seats, your handmaidens, waiting to take off your fur.

You were thoroughly surprised that Bjorn had been so direct, even more when he had been so disinterested in you.

But you had learned better from your awful experience with Halfdan.

You had your barriers up this time.

“… does it look like Ivar involves me in his plans?” you commented harshly, trying to tell Bjorn to ‘mind his own business’ and ‘back off’, something that took him back, probably since he was used to women smiling their way into his pants “… and even if I knew, why would I tell you?”.

“Because you care to survive” he spoke, his tongue cutting but his eyes unfocused as if you weren’t anything else than a body, and you were happy not to have shed your fur yet “… Ivar won’t win against my mother, believe me, and I do know that you are smart enough to want to survive”.

“Maybe you overvalued me, prince Bjorn” you commented softly, appearing tamed, as you remembered what Nanna had taught you about attacking others, as your eyes became sharper “… and how can you be so sure that it’ll be your mother who’ll win?”.

‘Always hit where it hurts the most’.

And with that you turned around, facing a smirking Angelika, meanwhile Caryn gently pushed your fur off your shoulder, as Turid untangled the bow at your neck, and soon you were simply in your dress in front of the blonde prince, his eyes following every line of fabric as you turned around to face him again with a small smirk.

And then you moved to take your seat, as Bjorn set himself beside you, muttering a simple ‘lucky bastard’ and you couldn’t but smirk as you turned to Caryn, Turid and Angelika, who were at a different but not-too-distant table.

They all smirked brightly at you, proudly, as they exchanged laugh and you almost wished that you could damn etiquette and join them, feeling at unease without a familiar face by your side.

Even more when your eyes caught glimpses of Alexander not too far away, his eyes ignoring you, as they settled on the cup of ale in front of him.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem to hate that beverage anymore.

Nanna came onto your table to chat with you and with the side of your eye, you caught Angelika looking at her with interest and a questioning look and you shot her a devilish look of your own, the other woman simply shaking her head annoyedly.

And then Ivar appeared on the threshold, moving closer to you, who raised up to welcome him.

And to show him your dress.

As you did, the room went quickly silent, as everybody’s eyes were suddenly onto you.

And you didn’t know whether it was for the beautiful dress or for the way your crown caught onto light, coming to live.

Or whether it was for you.

For a moment you almost thought it was for you.

The excitement of the crowd quickly thrumming in your veins, as your eyes set up on Ivar’s surprised face, before a smirk came on his own face, his eyes were fixed on you, genuinely looking at you as if you were the most beautiful spectacle of nature.

And then he was in front of you, separated simply by a table, as you gently bowed your head at him, but he held your chin between his fingers to keep your face up, as he stared in your eyes.

“Apparently Freya blessed us with an appearance” his smirk was playful, and hadn’t you been in public you would have very much liked to kiss it off.

“My prince you make me blush with your compliments” you commented softly, moving to gently grab onto his hand, as he smiled back, kissing your forehead.

He then sat beside you, the entire room having been silent the entire time, as eyes looked at you, no glares or bad eyes, but simply glances of curiosity to the wife of their youngest prince.

The one they thought they’d never see smile at a woman, like that.

You were the unified front that your deal had wanted.

He settled himself down beside you, as soon as he could, walking with a fierceness that made you laugh, and he grabbed your hand under the table, as slowly the clatter of the room came back, helped by Hvitserk who asked ‘when dinner would be served?’.

Dinner was a whirlwind of conversations about nothing and everything, as Ivar gently caressed the back of your hand he held with his thumb and for a moment…

… for a moment you wished this moment could last for ever,

“… you do look actually more beautiful than Freya” commented Ivar in your ear, as he leaned in, making you blush as you shot back a small ‘flatterer’ “… you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met”.

“Then you mustn’t have seen many women” you teased him, as he boldly kissed you with a light laughter “… you have a way with words, husband…”.

“… and you love it” it was a bold comment, but it was rewarded with a quite smile from you.

“That I do”.

“Prince Ivar” some soldier called out, ruining your moment.

Lightly embarrassed of your actions, you immediately pushed your stare onto your plate, as Ivar left your side to converse privately with the soldier, something that you allowed with a small kiss to his hand, as you were instead dragged away by your handmaidens to dance, something that made your feet and cheeks ache, from dancing and smiling too much.

You hadn’t had so much fun… in for ever.

Once you were tired of dancing and you made sure that all the girls had rightful partners for the next few dances, the Saxons having joined in although shyly, you sat down waiting for Ivar to come back, wanting to breath a bit and not feel the stench of sweat and beer attaching itself to your body.

And you were drinking ale, as you felt somebody sitting beside you.

Ubbe.

You recognized him as you raised your eyes to him, finally realizing that his gaze wasn’t set up on you, as he started to speak with you, but on Ivar who was talking surrounded by a few of his most trusted soldiers, from which you recognized his own private guards.

“… whatever deal is between you two, I am impressed that it is actually working” someone commented loudly, as they sit next to you, and when you turned you realized it was Ubbe, his insinuation making you blush.

“... or maybe we are simply enjoying the wedding bliss” you replied tightly, trying to match his disinterested tone “… you should know about it, Ivar told me that you have a wife”.

You knew that you had hit him, as you felt his teeth clatter together and tighten his jaw, but it was only a minute before that calm storm reappeared in his eyes, and you should have seen coming that nothing pleasant would happen next.

“I do think that it started all out as a deal between you two, I know my brother enough to know what he is like…” he commented as if he already knew all about it, but you just tried to ignore it, hating the way all this men seemed to know everything about you, thinking they could do better.

It reminded you of your father’s controlling ways.

“… but I think that somehow you are slowly falling in love with him” Ubbe’s admission was what your heart had hidden you in these days, almost since the start of your marriage with Ivar “… that’s why I want you to know this before anything gets further with my brother”.

You expected Ubbe to tell you about his plan to dethrone Lagertha or how moody Ivar can be…

But what Ubbe said next hit you so strongly.

“Ivar killed our brother, Sigurd”.

You choked on your own breath, as your eyes finally turned to Ubbe, almost expecting him to admit that it was a terrible joke, that he had played because he was jealous of Ivar’s happiness, but Ubbe looked back at you with a strong gaze, withholding your panicked look.

“… Sigurd and Ivar’s relationship wasn’t always good, but once, meanwhile we were also feasting Ivar threw an axe at Sigurd, and he hit him, he killed him”.

“Why are you telling me this” your voice was choked, and you couldn’t hide it.

“… because think what he did to his own blood, without any remorse…” Ubbe’s eyes were hungry for your pain “… you might own his heart, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t kill you if you betray him”-

Your feet moved on their own, as you got up, raising yourself so fast that for a moment you were startled, but your body seemed to know better, since it brought you out of the room, in the dizzyingly cold air of the night.

Somebody followed you.

Later you discovered it was Hvitserk and Nanna.

And Ivar.

“(Y/N)!” he called out to you, as you stopped in your steps, him coming closer to you, as he gently touched your shoulder, something that awakened a fear in you, and you moved startled away.

“… is it true?” your words were a simple tremble, a bare whisper, and Ivar looked at you not knowing what you meant “… did you seriously kill your brother?”.

Because if he did, any stupid illusion you had created in your mind broke down.

The silly thought of a life with him wouldn’t be broken by your own father’s ambitions, but by the fact that if he had murdered his brother, his own blood, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do the same for you.

And your love couldn’t overshadow fear in that moment.

In those days you had lost yourself in a beautiful fantasy, forgetting the harsh reality.

Alexander would have laughed loudly at this, his own prophecy coming true.

“… we can talk about it” he choked on his own words, his blue eyes hiding themselves away from yours, almost as if he was scared of your scrutiny.

And in that moment, you realized how stupid you had been.

How blind.

It didn’t take much as you looked in Ivar’s shadowed eyes to realize it was the truth.

You had lied to him, but he had also left out important pieces.

And now you were left broken.

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