It was elementary in all honesty. This small group of men thought they could sneak up on your camping group of soldiers.
It backfired almost immediately, they assumed all your men were asleep or too drunk to see straight but they were the opposite. They were fresh and alive from a hunt and celebrating by the fire, weapons still near by.
The second those other men entered the camp they were doomed. Half were killed and the others brought back to the city. Your city.
You ruled alone, just how you liked it. No one dared to question your word or wisdom as you were believed to be gifted by the gods. Tyr and Mímir to be exact.
The gods of war and wisdom were on your side and that's all you needed.
The group of men entered your throne room, bickering among themselves until they were all forced to their knees. Besides one, who already lay upon the floor.
"You've attacked my men. Why?" You ask sternly and one of the men laugh and you raise an eyebrow at him, standing from your throne.
"What amuses you fífl*?" You say with a steady voice and a few of your men put their hands on the hilts of their sheathed swords.
You raise your hand and the sleeves of your dress fall as you let them know it is okay.
Your dress is crimson red with enslaved patterns on it and white sleeves and a skirt underneath it. You had found it on a pillage in a Christian city and decided to modify the large puffy skirt to a flat one with a slit down the middle.
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The man you had spoken to swallows shallowly as you look him in the eye. H smiles and looks over at another one of the men, the one who lay on the floor.
"He does not know what he says, we thought you were just a Christian group of men spying, but it's clear you are not. No Christian would let a woman rule." He speaks, his voice is light but rough at once and his blue eyes are like the sea, one of your favorite things.
"Bring then to the cells, I shall speak with that one while the others are away." You command and your men nod as they drag the others away and leave the cripple.
"Who are you?" You demand as you sit back down in your throne and cross your legs.
"Ivar Ragnarsson, son of Ragnar Lothbrok." He speaks and you continue to stare.
"Why were you in my land? Besides the Christian thing?" You demand once more.
"Hunting, I have a village myself that needs food, and needs their leader to return." He speaks slowly and keeps eye contact with you.
He's battling for dominance over the situation, trying to make you look away first. You rise from the throne once again and walk over to him.
"You hold no power in the city Ivar Ragnarsson, you attacked my men and came onto my land uninvited. The fact that I haven't killed you is a blessing from the gods." You snap as you look down at him.
"I am no fool and I see you are a very strong willed person, despite appearances, but you must understand Ivar, I bow to no one." You smile and he does so back.
You make a movement with your hand and your men drag him away as well, down to a cell that's decorated rather nicely and has a bed among other furniture.
After a few hours you enter the room. He looks up at you and places the axe he has down.
"May I finally ask who you are?" Ivar questions and you walk over and sit in a chair.
"I am (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). I rule this city as the last line from my family. My mother died at child birth and my father was killed by a slave who had been feeding information to a close enemy of his. My brother was next in line but mysteriously went missing." You speak softly and he stares at you, rather interested.
"Then I was brought up to rule at only 15. I would of rather been out fighting with the men and women but I was stuck dealing with queenly things. So I decided I would be nothing like the other line queens and I would rule with a sword and shield in hand. I've taken over many places because of it." You smirk rather confidently and Ivar chuckles a little.
"Well, warrior queen, that is nice to know. I have a village that needs its leader back though, so if you could let me and my men go I would be rather great full." Ivar speaks sternly and you stand from your seat to sit down next to him.
"You know I cannot do that." You speak and he grits his teeth as you look at the small fireplace in the room.
"I need to leave! My people need their ruler." Ivar almost yells as he starts to get angry.
"Veslingr*, I can end your life right here, right now. I would watch your tone." You hiss and he lunges at you.
You both fall to the floor and he holds the head of his axe onto your neck, the cold blade gives you goosebumps and makes you laugh.
"King Ivar, tackling a woman, how rude." You mock and knock his hand out of the way and punch the side of his face.
You shift your weight and position yourself on top of him, pulling the dagger you had on your side out and pressing it to his neck. He simply smirks and tilts his head up, giving you more access.
"I do not fear death, death fears me." He hisses and try's to push you off him but to no avail. You simply smirk as you move your head to his ear and whisper.
"Death does not fear you my love, for it's sitting on top of you laughing." You laugh and look right at him.
He licks his lips and takes yours quickly. You eyes go wide in shock but you can't help to melt into it as your focus is dropped.
He uses it to his advantage and rolls out from under you.
"My Queen, I'll ask you one more time, let me and my men go." He basically mutters as he stands himself up next to a chair as you rise.
"Form an alliance with me." You surprise him and he smiles at you.
"And what would I be gaining from this?" He asks curious as ever.
"Well my dear Ivar, Death." You smirk.
- Thank you for reading my loves, I hope you enjoyed!
* Fífl - A fool or idiot. * Veslingr - A puny wretch, good-for-nothing.
