A/N: For those of you interested, I have also started an Aemond Targaryen fanfic. I would appreciate it if you could check it out (: https://www.wattpad.com/story/324136979-book-of-faces-%E2%88%BF-aemond-targaryen
|| Ｆ Ｉ Ｆ Ｔ Ｙ － Ｔ Ｈ Ｒ Ｅ Ｅ ||
Burning hot through my veins
Love is torture makes me more sure
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A broad smile came to Alasia's face as soon as she noticed Imeldina's eyes flutter open. Immediately, she grabbed the cup that stood on top of Imeldina's nightstand, filled with honey water and some herbs that should relieve her pain. Gently, cradling her sister's head, Alasia placed the cup to her pale lips. Imeldina's fingers wrapped around the stem weakly, and she took a small sip of the fluid. Alasia waited patiently until her sister signalled that she was done, before placing the cup back on the nightstand and taking a very careful seat on the mattress next to her younger sister.
"I am so glad to see you awake, my dear sister," Alasia said kindly. She reached out, stroking the rosy and hot cheek of her sister. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel like a thousand horses have trampled over my body," Imeldina replied, offering her older sister a weak smile. "But nothing I cannot manage."
"I shall have one of the servants call Hvitserk," Alasia said hastily, already turning around so that she could slide off the high bed. "He has been at your bedside for the entire night. Only an hour ago I send him away so that he too might sleep."
"No, wait," Imeldina said, her good hand reaching out and grabbing Alasia's. "Let him sleep. I am not planning on going anywhere soon and I want to talk to you, sister."
Smiling, Alasia lowered herself back onto the mattress, her thoughts going to Ivar's warning words about hovering over her sister and the consequences that may follow from it. Her eyes fell onto the bound and broken hand of Imeldina and an overwhelming wave of guilt crashed over Alasia. She always treated her sister with the utmost care, knowing exactly how fragile her body was, but when she had seen her smelling those awful flowers, it was like something else had taken over her body and forced her to act so recklessly.
"I am so terribly sorry about your hand, Imeldina," she said. "I never meant to-"
"Do not speak such nonsense," Imeldina countered hastily, effectively shutting her older sister up. Now it was Imeldina's turn to smile, even though it looked pale in comparison to her usual smile, which was able to light up the entire world. "I'm very thankful that you smacked away those flowers. Had you not, I might have sniffed more of the poison and well, Gods knows, what would have happened then."
Sighing, Alasia gave Imeldina's hand a soft squeeze. "I love you, sister."
"I love you too," Imeldina said, her words powerful despite her weak state of health.
There was a gentle knock on the door, barely audible, and not a second later, Antonio rushed into the room. He appeared to be positively out of breath, most of his small body hidden in a black cloak that was too big for him. For a moment, Alasia stared at her younger brother with an expression of incredulity on her face, but then she burst out in laughter at the naughty glint in his eyes.
"Come here, Nuccio," Alasia said. She stood up from the bed and walked to her brother, easily sweeping him in her arms, but grunting as she lifted him into her lap. Carefully, she went to sit back down on Imeldina's bed, the three siblings united once more.
|||
Alasia was staring at her husband in silence as she crawled back into their bed. There was the soft glow of the few candles which had not been blown out, illuminating Ivar's striking features. He was laying on his back, his bare chest moving up and down gently in his restful sleep. Smiling to herself, she traced the black lines of the tattoo that covered his pec and shoulder. His skin was warm to touch, igniting a deep spark of love in her heart. The muscles in his face were relaxed and for once that seemingly permanent frown and smirk had been wiped from his face.
Ivar let out a soft grunt and a second later his eyes fluttered open. For a moment he stared at Alasia uncomprehendingly, but then a soft smile came to his face. He wrapped a single arm around her bare shoulders and pulled her close, until she could rest her ear on top of his beating hart and his arm wrapped around the small of her waist.
"Did I wake you up?" Alasia asked softly, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry if I did."
Ivar's hands moved through her hair, brushing away some of the wild locks. "I was dreaming of you being my wife and my queen and when I opened my eyes, there you were, just as in my dream," he said, his voice hoarse from sleep. "Why are you still awake?"
"I was watching you," she admitted, a chuckle escaping her mouth. Placing her hand on his torso, she snuggled closer into his embrace. "I like seeing your face without a smirk or a frown."
Ivar let out a thoughtful hum and squeezed her side softly. When Alasia had been younger, she could not have imagined being this close to somebody and actually appreciating it. She had imagined that she would marry a man of her parent's choice, preferably a kind one, and that with time she would learn to love him like a wife was supposed to. With Ivar's muscled arms around her, Alasia felt at home, like there was not a saver or more protected place.
"I have a confession to make," Ivar suddenly said, a slight smirk in his voice.
Frowning, she opened her eyes and turned her head, so that she might momentarily look her husband in the eyes. Raising her eyebrows, she made an impatient sound. "Well," she began. "What is it then?"
"Do you remember when we were in Repton, when we shared the same tent?" Ivar asked. Alasia gave an affirmative hum and a nod, curious to know what this was going to be about. "Well, there were many nights where my legs bothered me too much for me to slip away in peace and even then, you fascinated me greatly. I could watch you for hours at end, turning from one side onto the other and all the while I wondered what you dreamt off. I always imagined Naples, your family or your strange God."
Alasia laid her head back down and let out a deep sigh, her mind back in Repton. It was months ago, but she still fiercely remembered the feelings of conflict and struggle for her affiliation with Ivar. She had been this close to kissing him in the church there, strangely attached to the man who showed her such curious mood swings. Never in a million years had she dared to dream at that point that only months later she would marry that same man.
"You stalked me in my sleep," Alasia said good-naturedly. "And I never even noticed it."
Ivar let out a chuckle. "Well, I wasn't obvious about it, of course. I had a reputation to uphold."
Rolling her eyes, she gently pinched Ivar's skin. "Such a reputation you had."
The room filled itself with comfortable silence, both Alasia and Ivar lost in thought. She was reflecting on the time she had spent in Ivar's presence, from the beginning at the docks where, for some reason, he saw straight through her act, to this very night, where she had given all of herself to him. Letting out a pensive hum, she placed her underarm on Ivar's torso and lifted herself up, so that she might look at him. "That very first day I saw you on the docks, when Hvitserk introduced you," she began. "How did you know that I was only pretending to be mute?"
A strange and knowing smirk came to Ivar's mouth and he let out a loud sigh as he wrapped both of his arms around her waist. "Do you really want to know?" he asked. Alasia raised a single eyebrow and Ivar tilted his head ever so slightly. "I didn't know."
"You didn't know?" she repeated, utterly dumbfounded.
Ivar's smirk grew. "I didn't know."
"You truly didn't know?"
"I truly didn't know," Ivar confirmed for the second time. Before she could repeat the question once more, he pressed one of his hands against her mouth, effectively shutting her up. "I always liked to mess with Hvitserk, you could say it was one of my favourite pastimes, and when he showed up with you he looked so proud that I couldn't help but meddle with his business. It was just a dumb statement really, but one which turned out to be true. I think it was the gods granting me that wisdom."
For a moment, all Alasia could do was simply stare at the man underneath her. Then she peeled away his hand and gave him a hard smack against his chest. "You are a childish brat, Ivar," she stated, an annoying smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Has anyone ever told you that?"
"I think I might have heard it once or twice," he said, looking very proud at himself.
Rolling her eyes, she lowered her head again and snuggled close to him. With a smile, she listened to the steady thumping of his heart, the sound like wonderful music in her ears. Ivar continued to play with a hair, his fingers gliding along the length of her bare arm and not a moment later, she could feel herself drift off to sleep.
|||
Alasia stared at the sword she was holding in her hand. Her grip on the handle was tight, her knuckles turned white from the lack of blood. The tip of the metal was resting on the grindstones of the ground, so there was no need to clench the weapon so fiercely and yet she could not make herself stop. There was a whirlwind of emotions going through her, though she could not quite understand why. There were feelings of love and happiness, of guilt and shame, of anger and betrayal. Dominant among all of those, however, was confusion.
She was confused about why she was feeling these emotions and by whom they may be caused. She was also confused as though why there was a sword in her hand, when there appeared to be no reason for her to wield one.
"Daughter," a voice behind her said. "Turn around and face me."
Those simple words managed to raise all of the hairs on Alasia's skin and feeling as though a bucket with water from the fjord had been thrown over her, she turned around. She was dreading the person that she would come face to face with, and rightfully so. When Alasia raised her head, her eyes fell on the same person that had so kindly offered her those flowers on her and Ivar's wedding night.
Though Alasia had not imagined it possible, her grip on the sword tightened even further. "Mother."
"I have not seen you for a long time," her mother said, her voice cracking. The old woman was not looking good and had seemingly aged ten years since their last meeting in York. Her thick hair had been replaced with whispy tufts of hair that barely covered her scalp and there were bloody and red marks around her neck and wrists, probably from escaping her confinements. "Matrimony agrees with you, and so does maternity, though it still pains my heart that you married that vile creature. Nothing I hadn't expected from my holiest daughter, of course."
Frowning, Alasia stared down, only then noticing the bump in her belly. Feeling equally disgusted by her mother's words and amazed by the fact that there was a little baby growing in her body, she placed her hand on the bump. Right at that moment, her baby decided to kick, and a gasp of wonder and awe escaped her mouth.
"Oh yes, it's wonderful," her mother agreed. She let out a cackling laugh. "The first one always is, but then the crying starts, followed by the wailing and before you know it-"
Her mother's words faded to the back of her mind as soon as she felt another strong hand on her belly, intertwining their fingers together. A breathtaking smile came to her face and Alasia turned to look over her shoulder at her husband. There was a proud expression on his face as he pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek and leaning into his embrace, Alasia allowed her grip on the sword to lessen.
"Let me, my beautiful wife," Ivar whispered softly. She could feel his other hand carefully prying her fingers away from the handle and she let him take the weapon from her. "You should be resting. After all, you're carrying our daughter."
Alasia smiled. "Or son."
Ivar didn't reply to her words, but after pressing another chaste kiss to her cheek, he lifted the sword and walked in the direction of her mother. Alasia closed her eyes, knowing what was about to happen and not wanting to see it, folding both of her hands protectively over the bump on her belly.
|||
Alasia shot up from the mattress, gasping for air and clenching the sheets to her chest as she did so. One of her hands immediately grabbed for her stomach, but of course, there was nothing to be felt there. Closing her eyes, she tried to relive the feeling of a little baby kicking her belly again, a desperate expression on her face. Soon, however, she was distracted by a pair of strong hands stroking the bare skin of her back and shoulders.
"Alasia?" Ivar asked, his voice still sleepy. He pulled himself up, pressing a soft kiss to his wife's shoulder. "What is it? Did you have a nightmare?"
"No, but I dreamt, Ivar," Alasia said, still sounding out of breath. She looked over her shoulder and noticed the way the sleep instantly disappeared from his striking blue eyes. Ivar hung to her lips, impatient to know what she had dreamed of. An incredible smile came to her face as she placed one of her hands on his cheeks, pressing her forehead against his. "I dreamt that I was pregnant Ivar, of our baby."
And watching the expression on Ivar's face change into one of pure disbelief and amazement, as though the whole world had just been granted to him, made it all worth it.