¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
All her life, Alvina had tried to fit in. She'd tried to be the girl that she was always expected to be, tried to make her father proud. But everyday she felt herself growing distant from the life that she'd forged for herself. And when the heathens arrived, she only found that her disillusionment grew worse.
"I'm not allowed to be here." She muttered quietly when the prison cell grew silent.
Ivar looked up in the darkness, his vibrant eyes finding the outline of the girl's figure as it was vaguely lit by the moon. "So why are you here?" His voice was harsh, perhaps harsher than he himself would've liked - after all, the girl had been nice to him since he got here - but that harshness within him had always been a facade he'd used to protect himself. And right now, facing the potential death of his father, he felt more need to protect himself than ever before.
"My grandfather is preparing a boat for you..." She answered without actually answering his question. In the time she'd spent in his cell, trying her hardest to get him to talk to her, he'd noticed that she did this quite often. Perhaps she was trying to protect herself too. "You'll go back to your home soon."
"I know." He answered coldly, pushing back the emotions he had felt. His father had already told him all of this, right before he announced that he would die.
Alvina grew silent again, slowly stepping closer to the boy. She watched him closely as she moved closer, and he stared at her in curiosity as to what on earth she was doing. Slowly she crouched down beside him, her skirt drooping onto the dirty floor. Her hand gently reached out for his, and he harshly snatched it away upon instinct. Of course, this didn't discourage her as it would for anyone else. Instead, she offered him a reassuring smile as she reached out to hold his hand again. He watched her this time, waiting for her to make her move so that he could find out what her plan was. Finally, she spoke.
"I will try and help your father." She talked with the gentlest voice, and yet it sounded firm and strong. "I will do all I can to send him back to you unharmed."
Ivar looked at the girl with a confused expression, a frown set firmly upon his lips as he tried to figure out her motives. "Why?" In that singular word he let out far more emotion than he had intended, and cursed himself for showing any semblance of weakness in front of the enemy.
Alvina gulped, looking down and moving her hands back into her lap. "I don't like death." She answered with that look of innocence set firmly in her grassy gaze. "And my mother always told me tales of your father. She said he was a great man. I know she would never forgive me if I didn't try to help him... Or you."
"Me?" He sent her a look that told her she was speaking nonsense again.
She nodded with a shy smile. "You will kill us all if Ragnar dies, won't you?"
Suddenly, the boy felt uncomfortable. Had he said something? Did he talk in his sleep like Hvitserk did? Could this girl see his thoughts? How in Odin's name did she know? His walls instantly went up, and the harshness in his demeanor returned suddenly. "I'm just a cripple." He answered like his father would've wanted him to, but he had rather wanted to kill the girl in that moment.
Alvina laughed, making his anger only increase. She realised what she was doing and quickly covered her mouth her her small hand, still chuckling when she finally pulled it away. "I've been watching you and my brother. Do you really think I believe that?" Ivar didn't speak. He decided that she clearly already knew too much and resorted to his only other solution; to glare at her. "I'm not blind, and you're not as you would have us believe."
"I'm not a cripple?" He asked with false amusement, his tone telling her that he thought her words were stupid.
"Is your brain in your legs?" She scoffed with equal condescension. "I think that if and when King Ragnar dies, you will reign down all of Hell's fire on my people. I am not so foolish as to think you incapable simply because you cannot walk."
"You think a lot of me." He spoke again, trying to maintain his cocky persona but the look in his eyes betrayed him and there was no way that the girl missed it. How was it that this Christian princess had more faith in him than even his own brothers?
"I only think what I've seen." She answered, placing her hand back on his one final time. "And I want you to know, before we meet again as enemies, that will do all I can for your father."
"Why?" He grinned with a new wave of arrogance. "Are you afraid?"
Alvina smiled, a sweet smile that made his blood boil. "I fear only God." She answered firmly. "But I am not as stupid and incapable as my people believe either."
And, with those final words, she stood and left, glancing one final time towards the ragnarsson as she departed.
The next time she saw him, he was on the back of a cart being led away to the boat that would carry him home. Though she should've been relieved in his absence, she found that his presence was rather pleasant. Still, she found comfort in some unsettling feeling that told her she would meet Ivar The Boneless again.
