"ѕнe waѕ тнe ғιre тнaт ĸepт тнe world вυrnιng."
She was a girl, outcast by her home in England and imprisoned for her crimes. That is until Earl Ingstad, (otherwise known as Lagertha Lothbrok) the ex wife of Ragnar Lothbrok, freed her and took her b...
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"It worked!" I cheered, pulling Ivar into a hug. He laughed at my reaction, smiling at his own win. The warriors behind us cheered, Floki congratulating Ivar and giggling cheerily.
We walked back to camp at the end of the battle. Everyone was rowdy and bashful over the victory. I was smiling, watching as my friends took part in foolish activities that I would usually join them in. I couldn't join them, however, for getting drunk and fighting were things I could not risk my baby over anymore. So, I merely watched. Hilda sat beside me, her expression solemn and grim. Her long black hair fell down, framing her face as her eyes held sorrow and grief. I looked at her with confusion, giving a small chuckle, "Whatever is the matter, dear Hilda? We won the battle." "Three of our men died." She whispered. "That is war." I said, still confused as to what had gotten her so glum. "Aneira, one of those men... Was Egil." She said finally. With her very words, it felt like the earth shattered like glass in my ears. Everything fell still and the world began to spin as I stared at her. "Aneira?" She asked, concerned as I began to stand. The father of my young child was dead. This child grow up without him, never having even seen his face. I would have to bare and raise this child without him. Without having someone to share the burden with. Bile rose up my throat and suddenly spewed from my lips onto the dirt. What had I gotten myself into? "Aneira!" I felt Hvitserk's hand rest upon my shoulder as I regained my footing. "Egil is dead." I whispered, barely audibly. How could I do this without him? "I know." He sighed, pulling me into a hug. I did not move, not to hug him back nor to pull away. I just stood there motionlessly. "I don't know what to do anymore." I spoke flatly, void of any emotions at all. I just felt numb. Numb and scared. "I will be a terrible mother." "Are you kidding? You've had to deal with all of us for years with the patience of Freya herself. You'll be a great mother, Aneira." He replied gently. "Not on my own." I sighed. "I already told you that you're not on your own. Why are you always so stubborn?" I chuckled at his response, hitting his arm lightly, "Am not." "Are too." He grinned childishly. I kissed him gently, my lips searching for an answer within his. All they found was hope and longing, that is all I had ever found in Hvitserk. Above all, he always gave me hope.
"I love you." He whispered into the wind after I moved my lips from his. I looked up at him, startled by the notion. He quickly realized what he said, eyes wide from the realization. "That's not- I didn't- I dont-" He stuttered, trying to find words for his current situation. I chuckled, watching him awkwardly try to explain his way out of it. "Hvitserk." I said firmly. "Yes?" He looked up like a scared child. I smiled. "Shut up." My lips pressed against his again, silencing him finally.
We went to attack Wessex the next morning. Helga and the young girl she'd adopted from her trip to the Mediterranean walked behind me as I sat with Ivar in his chariot, throwing bits of grass at him to annoy him. "Will you stop that?" He glared at my childish actions. I grinned mischievously, throwing another piece of grass at his face. "Ivar, you know that I'm only here to annoy you. It's my soul purpose in life." "Then you're succeeding." He huffed, urging his horses to move on. When we finally reached Wessex, it was disappointing to say the least. There were no soldiers, nothing. We all ran in to find any form of life that we could but there was no one that I could see. Suddenly, I heard an unmistakably loud cry. The scream of a grieving man. I ran towards the heart wrenching sound as fast as I could, hiding behind a wall to prepare myself for I fight. I leapt out to be greater by something far more disturbing. Something that made me also feel weak. I saw Floki, leaning over Helga as blood seeped through her white dress. Her beautiful long locks fell onto the floor as he held her in his arms weeping. I ran over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder for reassurance. It appeared as though Helga's New child had stabbed her before killing herself also. The most devastating part being, we could not save the sweet woman who lay bloodied before us. We could not do anything but watch as the life slowly drained from her vibrant and cheery eyes. And the hope drained from those of her husband. "Floki... I'm so sorry." I whispered.
When we made it outside, everyone fell still at the news. There had been no greater tragedy. Everyone loved Helga. To think of her gone so brutally was, by all means, heartbreaking. Heartbreaking to every Viking soul that stood before us.
