The only thing she is certain of, it's Alfred's love. She thinks they are meant to be, he promised so. So what will happen when Judith decides she is no fit to be queen? Moreover, with the death of Ragnar Lothbrok there's a possibility of the viking...
The following days, I make an effort to know Ivar's siblings. Partially because I know that we will interact more often from now on, mostly because Egadyd seems to get along with at least one of them. Ubbe. It would have been very oblivious of me not to notice the way they seem to gravitate to one another. The Viking comes by our place now and then to check on 'us', though I have a feeling it is majorly for my sister's sake. Unlike what I would have expected, Egadyd welcomes him with shy smiles and pleasant words. However, I have learned not to point this out. The last -and only- time I did, she did not take it very well. I can see that the prejudices against Vikings remain rooted within my sister, so I just hope Ubbe can help her see another side of them.
Now, bonding with Hvitserk is a bit more challenging. Unlike his older brother, he does not visit us. That leaves me trying to make conversation with him whenever we share meals or I encounter him on the streets. He is polite enough and answers my meaningless inquiries, but regards me oddly as he does so. Once I even caught him muttering odd Saxon under his breath. He probably expects me to coward in fear, not ask him about Odin or his traditions. I do not let it discourage me, especially after I discover the Ragnarssons are not so bad, after all.
Even if I manage to slowly slither my way into Ubbe's and Hvitserk's lives, the same can not be said for Ivar. He has been avoiding me since I returned from the Saxon's camp a week ago. The kiss that we shared might as well have been a mistake in his eyes because he has not looked at me or visited me. And when I went to him the other day, he basically ignored me in favor of speaking to his warriors. It was humiliating to some degree, but I let it slide because I understood he was still mad at my lie. Still, there is so much I can take before I begin to feel like I am about to snap. I refuse to let things with Alfred repeat once more. One of the bright sides is that Freydis is no longer in the picture.
After I disappeared, Ivar found out what she had done to lure me away, and the fact that it had been on purpose. Hvitserk did not tell me what he did to her, but the vicious smile on his face was enough to get my imagination going. If the rest of the Vikings learned not to touch me or insult me when Ivar killed my previous guard, they now know not to attempt to separate me from the deadly prince. Even if her death is good news, I try not to feel too happy about it. Instead, I focus on Ivar's insistence on giving me the cold shoulder. There is only so much I can withstand before getting tired and attempting to do something about it. That is the main reason why I decide to approach him.
Ivar the Boneless is by the blacksmith's cabin, looking intently at a beautiful sword. I think I recognize the object belonging to Bishop Heahmund. Ivar has been obsessed over that damned sword ever since he got it in his hands. According to what I heard him say once, there is no material like that in his land. I quickly look around the place to make sure he is alone before I approach him. It is best not to have any witnesses. Otherwise, he will use them as an excuse to get away from me, as has happened before.
"Have you figured out the material?" My voice does not startle him as I would have hoped.
Ivar remains looking at the weapon when he answers. "No, but does it matter?" He caresses the thing delicately. "It is now mine."
"And if you knew the material, you could craft more." We both know that I am right. We both know that his fixation on the sword is not due to the utility of the weapon, but because of the enigma that it possesses, what is crafted from.
"Why did you come back?" I have to stop for a moment to analyze this question given the abrupt change of topic.
"You send for me," I answer hesitantly.
"I know that," the Viking seems exasperated with my response. "You could have refused to follow Vik, I would not have forced you to return." That is a lie, and we are both aware of it, nevertheless, I do not point it out.
"And leave my sister here? And my niece?"
"I am sure that if you asked nicely, Alfred would have gotten them back for you."
"He did offer," I confess. "Why are you asking me this? Would you have rather I stay with the Saxons?"
For a moment he remains quiet, as if contemplating whether to let me in on his thoughts or not. "No. I already told you, you are mine." This is when Ivar finally looks up from the sword and into my eyes.
I wish to tell him that he is mine as well, that whatever possessiveness he is feeling is not and should not be one-sided. However, the reminder that women can not own their intended like men can, stops me. So, instead, I just ask "what are your plans now that I am back, and you have defeated the Saxons?"
The Viking considers my question. "Not all of them have been defeated, but we have a strong hold over these lands." After I came back from the enemies' camp, Ubbe told me that the King and Prince Alfred had managed to escape with their lives successfully. "There are more pressing things to take care of back at Kattegat."
The implication that he will soon leave England has my heart beating faster. "How so?"
"The throne of Kattegat rightfully belongs to a Ragnarsson. Right now, Lagertha, the usurper, seats ruling as if it belongs to her. She killed my mother for it, and I must seek revenge and take back what is ours." While his mouth tells me one thing, I can see in his eyes that there is more to it. I do not dare to say it out loud, but knowing what I have learned of him, Ivar is not only fighting for justice, he wants to rule the land. Perhaps I also notice this because I recognize the look in his eyes as he talks about the kingdom; it is the same one Alfred used to have. I missed it before with my first lover, yet I will not with the current one.
"Will you leave, then?" My voice threatens to crack at the end. Where did I become so attached to him?
Ivar smiles cunningly as he stands up from his seat. "We will leave, little Saxon."
"We?"
He laughs lightly. "Of course, did you actually think I would leave you here?" I suppose I did, but I do not tell him that. "Or what do you suggest? Should I stay and finish off the Saxons?" A smirk overtakes his features as if extinguishing an entire population is nothing.
The thought churns uncomfortably in my stomach. For now, leaving England sounds like the best scenario. Maybe getting away from here will help me move on from past mistakes. Traveling to a faraway land does sound exciting. "We should leave."
I do not agree with his plans of returning to Kattegat for revenge, my decision is mostly based on a selfish desire to get away from here. Nevertheless, it seems that he needs to go back. Ivar steps nearer. Since I am not that far away from him, he only needs to turn to me to be closer. The man roughly takes my face with his thumb and index finger, pulling it up to meet his gaze.
"Do not worry, you shall take this time and trip to earn my forgiveness" The Prince does not let go of my face. He leans in, I close my eyes, thinking he is about to kiss me. He stops halfway and I open them again. There is a cruel smirk on his handsome face. "I will let everyone know we are to leave as soon as possible, it will take us a few months to reach our destination."
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A/N: I'll admit this is a slow chapter, but Ivar IS angry at her.
