In which after the numerous losses she was forced to experience, Ylva the Dread begins to lose herself, slowing descending into madness like her brother and father before her. Will she be able to save herself before she's far too gone to be saved?
V...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was soon revealed to all that Hvitserk was Lagertha's killer, which made Ylva feel uneasy. She sat upon her throne beside Bjorn's, their children standing at their sides.
They watched Hvitserk getting dragged into the Great Hall, many warriors shouting profanities at him.
His wrists bound by chains, he raised his head to look up at his brother and Ylva.
"I wonder if you even know, brother, why you have been brought here?" Bjorn spoke up in a low, threatening tone as he glared at his younger brother.
"Yes," Hvitserk clenched his jaw and he shifted uneasily.
"Louder," Bjorn demanded, "I can't hear you."
"I know why," Hvitserk whispered and lowered his head in shame, "I killed Lagertha."
"What?" Bjorn asked and gestured toward his ear. He leaned forward in his seat.
"I killed your mother, Bjorn!" Hvitserk finally spoke louder as he glared at his brother.
"Ah!" Bjorn stood up and moved toward Hvitserk, which made Ylva feel uneasy. He roughly grabbed Hvitserk by his chin and stared down at him, "Why?"
"I thought she was Ivar. I thought she--" He began to say until Bjorn slapped him lightly on the cheek, "I thought that Ivar was coming to get me."
Once more, Bjorn struck him across the face. This time, it had been harder, however.
Hvitserk's face whipped to the side and slowly, he looked back at Bjorn.
"I don't care what you thought! Being drunk is no excuse for anything!" Bjorn shouted angrily and pounded his fist against his chest, " You murdered my mother! You murdered the most famous shield-maiden in the world! You! You sad, pathetic, raddled little man. You were not fit to kiss her feet!"
He moved closer to Hvitserk, roughly grabbing him by the chin. "And you aren't fit to be called a son of Ragnar. I--" He struck Hvitserk across the face twice before grabbing him by the hair, "And when you killed my mother, you killed a part of me too. And you have to understand...I can never forgive you."
He shoved Hvitserk before turning to Ylva, who looked uneasy. "I know that," Hvitserk spoke up softly, "And you're right, Bjorn. I am a sad wreck of a man. I've made a bad job of my life. And whatever you want to do with me, even if you want to burn me alive, I'll accept it. For I've deserved it."
