Elin dumped herself down onto the floor and lean her back against the bed in her guest bedroom, breathing heavily. Her eyes went red and every images that appears to her started to blur and become a shaky motion.
How could they gossipped about her mother without any doubt in their heart that they are saying bad things to the death ones.
A few knocks sound echoes throughout the room as the wooden door which she just slammed shut open up a little bit, a slave girl appears from the space in the parting door.
"Go away." She cut her sentenced coldly.
"L-Lagertha just wanted to know that you're--"
A nearby dagger was grabbed and threw towards the speaker, it stuck deep into the wall just a few inches from the girl. Her big brown eyes widen in shock and terrified.
"I don't like repeating the words I said." The young queen said without taking a glance at her.
The slave quickly closed thw door and leave, scared and trembled.
Elin stared her grey blue eyes at the wall in front of her. She did not cried, she did not wiped things down from the table in anger. She just...sat there.
There's another knock at the door.
"Go tell your queen I'm completely fine and if I heard that knock of yours again, I'll get your hands off your wrists." She growled back, thinking that the slave girl had returned.
But the knock didn't stop, it still continues.
"Go away you slave!!" She yelled.
The door opens, and she heard the sound of something came into her room.
Even if she doesn't turn and look at the door, she could definitely tell that it was not the girl.
Elin pulled her right knee up and hold it losely as the visitor sat down next to her.
"When my mother died, I was in England with my father." Ivar began, staring at the same wall as hers and hold his hands together. He laid his crouches beside himself.
"Then he died."
"Yes, he died." He nodded.
"I came back, and founded that my mother was killed, shot by an arrow of Lagertha on the middle of her back." Elin gazed at him quietly, tracing his attractive lips to his pale cheekbone that was smeared with the warmthness and the orange-yellow light of the torch nearby, and his dangerous blue eyes which are still pinned to the wall.
"I attended her funeral. That woman who killed our mother was there too, and she just stood and watch while my brothers are nearby. They did nothing to stop her from killing mother." His voice hardened with bitterness.
"You seemed to love your mother so much." She commented softly.
"I was born a cripple, my father even once abandoned me in the woods to let me die by the wolves. Fortunately, mother founded me. I'm her favorite. She usually told me I was special, that I am different." The torch make it easier to see his eyes filled with some shimering, clear liquid.
"I was born just a few months before my father died, he was ill and know that he would never make it, so he went to the cliff and jump down. Many in Raven Mountains rumored that he was killed, but that was not true." Elin sighed, starting her story.
"I was raised by only my mother, and sometimes she would gave me in the care of my aunt, Snædis the seer. When I was five, I got struck by a thunderbolt and passed out for some time, but I survived."
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Lacuna ||ϟ|| Ivar the BonelessFanfiction
lacuna (ləˈkjuːnə) → n. a blank space, a missing part "One day you'll find your missing part, Ivar." Ubbe said. "When?" Ivar chuckles "Who would come to love a cripple like me?". Hvitserk raises his eyebrows, sipping his ale. "We...