"And perhaps one day we will be privileged enough to call you our queen of all Norway," Lagertha suddenly spoke up, smiling at Ylva proudly.

The crowd around them began to beat their swords on their shields, chanting, "Queen Ylva."

Ylva didn't smile, however. Her expression was unreadable as she walked past them. She walked straight past Gyda, who was staring at her in utter shock and awe. She now understood why so many people adored her mother. She inspired them.






______


Inside Lagertha's home, Ylva was sitting alone, gasping in pain as she removed her armor as best as she could. She stripped until she was left in just her pants and her shirt.

As she tried her hardest not to cry out, Ylva lifted her shirt, gasping at the sight of the wound she bore on her right side. She lightly ran her fingers over it, feeling uneasy at the thought of the consequences of such a wound. She was pregnant, after all. Something she seemed to forget of late, which was odd enough.

Hearing the door open, Ylva quickly lovwered her shirt to ensure that her wound was covered. She turned, sighing when she saw it was just Thyra.

The young girl smiled and walked toward her mother. "Are you alright?" Thyra had asked her mother curiously as she stopped in front of her.

"I am fine, my love," Ylva assured her, smiling as she wrapped her arms around Thyra and hugged her.

As she hugged her daughter, Ylva closed her eyes and quietly began to cry. "When I am older, I want to be just like you."

Hearing Thyra's words, Ylva softly smiled and pulled away from the hug to look Thyra in the eye. "You're too young to truly understand it, but I feel as though I must tell you before you grow up hating me like Gyda does," She explained, letting out a deep sigh, "I am an ambitious woman. And being a warrior is my entire life. It's all I've known. At eight years old, I was on my own and fighting was what kept me alive. If I just stopped, I wouldn't even know who I was. It is what I am. But I'm also a mother. Gyda thinks I care about the crown more than all of you but it's not true. I want to be Queen for all of you. I want to make this country better for you. I am a famous woman known throughout the entire world. I have many enemies and there will come a day where I am dead. You will inherit those enemies. I want my children to have enough power to protect yourselves from those enemies. The Kingdom of Norway would protect you, your children, and their children for many years to come. That is why I want to be Queen. For all of you. You are the children of Bjorn Ironside and Ylva the Dread, granddaughter of the famous Ragnar Lothbrok and the great shieldmaiden Lagertha. Many will want your power but you must never let them take it. Do you understand?"

Thyra nodded at her mother's words, watching as her mother smiled and grabbed her hands.

"I love you very much, you must know that. And I will not let what happened to Erik and Freya happen to you, do you understand?" Ylva assured Thyra, who tilted her head to give her a curious look.

"What if it's fate?" Thyra found herself asking her mother out of curiosity.

"It's not. It can't be. Nothing is truly fate. Not unless we can make it so," Ylva assured her daughter and smiled as she lightly stroked the girl's cheek, "We can change our paths. And that is what I intend to do. So I will not lose any more of my children."

"Erik died because he wasn't trained by you or Freya as the others were. I want to learn how to fight," Thyra declared, earning a surprised look from Ylva, "If I do, then I can defend myself if you aren't there."

"You're ten years old," Ylva reminded and Thyra smiled in response.

"Freya, Rorik, and Gyda were eight," She retorted, earning an impressed look from her mother. She was her mother's daughter, that was for sure.


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