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Alvina woke up late that morning. In fact, when she awoke, it was no longer morning at all. Her head was aching, her throat dry, and she could feel the aftereffects of not eating or drinking all day. She wondered why she'd not been woken up, but continued to dress herself and walk outside.
Luckily, she was still in possession of many of her old clothes - all of the ones that hadn't burned anyway. For that, she owed Ivar. It seemed that was a common occurrence by now.
But Alvina could already hear the familiar sound of Ivar rallying for war. As per usual, he felt the need to disagree with all of his brother's and their decision. But as he spoke, she couldn't help but agree. Trusting her grandfather was a mistake and she'd told Ivar so. She'd told him everything.
And then Sigurd disagreed.
To begin with, she watched them from afar as they insulted eachother publicly. Had she and her brothers behave in such a way Judith would've flogged them! Nevertheless, she watched. But something felt different this time. They were speaking so furiously that she could only make out about half of their words.
"The truth is, I wouldn't even piss down your throat, even if your lungs were on fire." Ivar seemed to respond, and Alvina couldn't help but chuckle.
But she was sent from a smile to a chill running up her spine when she saw Ivar's reaction to whatever it was that Sigurd had said next.
She saw the same fury and hate in him that she'd seen only days before, that bloodlust burning in his eyes. Her heart stopped. It all seemed to pass in slow motion and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. Nothing. She could only watch in horror as Ivar's axe went hurtling towards his brother. Ubbe and Hvitserk both rose up in utter disbelief.
Slowly, Sigurd pulled the axe from his bleeding chest. Ivar looked at him as horrified as his brothers, in utter shock and even remorse. Slowly, Sigurd began to stumble forward, and Alvina shook with terror, hoping that Ivar wouldn't suffer the same fate as his brother.
And then Sigurd collapsed.
That afternoon was full of blame. His brothers were furious and Ivar understood why. But as he became distant, a tear slipping down his cheek silently behind one of the old cottages in the villa, he felt a coldness consume him. His mother had always said he'd be a monster.
"Ivar!" Alvina's familiarly gentle voice dragged him from his thoughts as she ran over to him.
"What do you want?" He asked sharply, eyes fixed on the wall instead of her. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't look at that warm smile and feel whole again, not after this. He couldn't bring her down with him.
"Ivar, it's not your fault." She whispered softly, trying to gain his attention. "Sigurd tormented you, anyone would have snapped eventually."
"Leave me alone, Alvina." He dismissed harshly. But she couldn't.
How could she just leave him? It simply wasn't in her nature. "Ivar, I'm not leaving you. Not now and not ever. I promised you that I would always be by your side and I intend to keep that promise. We'll go to war with all of England if we have to, just to prove that I am loyal to you and you alone."
Another crystal tear dropped from the ocean of pain in his eyes. "Everyone else turns their backs. Why wouldn't you do the same eventually."
At this, she turned his face to look her in the eyes. Her motion was harsh but gentle at the same time and she looked to him with sincerity. "I gave you my word."
Without a word, or even a thought, he pulled her towards him gently, their lips touching in the sweetest kiss. For a moment, Alvina was shocked, but she slowly relaxed and kissed him back. This was what they'd both been waiting for without even knowing it.
As they pulled apart, Alvina rested her forehead on his with a small smile. "Ivar, I believe in you."
