The people of Kattegat were wary of the youngest of Ragnar's sons. The respect they showed him was inducted by their fear of becoming the next target of Ivar's increasingly frequent mood swings. One could never be too careful around him, for his apparent harmlessness was but an illusion. It was common knowledge that he was the preferred son of his mother, Queen Aslaug, whose influence extended as far as Ragnar's reputation did.
Ivar knew she favored him because he was like her in many ways – seemingly not a threat to anyone, possibly even considered helpless and utterly incapable of being so much as a minor bother. Yet she ruled over their lands with an iron grip and allowed Kattegat to thrive beyond imagination. She proved them all wrong, showed them that having power and having strength were two different things.
He would show them too, make them regret ever looking at him like he was less than a man. Ivar the cripple, Ivar the useless son, inferior in strength and moral to his brothers. But his parents believed in him, and it was enough for him to go by. His wits would give him what his brother's legs could not. He might have to crawl to get where he wants, but in the end he would reach his goal.
Until then he would have to wait for the night to fall to get his peace of mind and escape from prying eyes. He found that sitting by the still water was quite calming and allowed his mind to clear of parasite thoughts. He would have laughed at the irony of him finding comfort by the water even after he almost drowned in the ocean, if his near death experience wasn't still burning in his memory. Looking down at his useless legs, Ivar scoffed in disdain before looking away again, not bearing the sight of his own impotency. Oh if the gods had provided him with strong legs, surely he would be invincible.
He would be respected for who he is and not for who his father was. He would stand tall next to his brothers and not lurk in their shadows anymore. He would be in his home, pleasuring a woman, eating and drinking with his people and not be considered a weight for his kin. Instead he was sitting here yet again, wondering how his nightly disappearances from the family house went unnoticed – even his slow witted brothers should take notice. He knew his mother did though she kept to herself.
It was enough gloomy thoughts for one night, Ivar decided. He did not come here to dwell on things he could not change. The cold and the silence of this peaceful Spring night was meant to bring him comfort. It was a cloudless night, there was no wind either – everything stood still, as if the course of time had been suspended for a moment. The full moon basked the town in its pale light and made the water shimmer.
Something disrupted the smooth surface of the water. Ivar saw ripples appear – whatever was underwater appeared to swim straight toward him. He was not sitting on the sand of the beach where waves crashed steady all year round, but on the grass, farther away from the port.
The sound of a splash of water was heard and Ivar's vigilant eyes scanned the surface of the water to find the source of the noise but he saw nothing.
"You seem troubled, young viking," a crystal clear voice said from his right.
In a split moment Ivar had rolled to his right to face the intruder and raised his ax, ready to kill whoever sneaked up on him. Surely enough there was a woman there, by the edge of the water, her arms resting on the ground a few centimeters above the surface of the still water. A naked woman, Ivar realized when she tilted her head and her hair slid down, leaving her skin exposed from her shoulders to her neck.
"Rest easy, viking," she purred innocently. "I represent no threat to you."
"Of course you don't," Ivar snapped back, stung in his pride.
He lowered his ax despite his best judgment – she was naked and unarmed, and Ivar son of Ragnar would not be seen holding a weapon above an unarmed woman's head. But was she really inoffensive? What kind of woman would wander alone in the dead of night to take a midnight bath?
"'I am harmless', says the poisonous flower," Ivar said, causing a smile to etch on the young creature's lips.
"What you say is right," she laughed. "Caution is the mother of safety it is true. But I said I was no threat to you, not that I wasn't dangerous."
A smirk stretched Ivar's lips in a wicked grin upon hearing this. Anyone who could play with words he was willing to hear. He lowered his ax and crawled to the edge, closer to her. Her long and wavy hair seemed to shine in the light of the moon and cascade down her back, as though it was a living moving thing.
"Why should I believe you? I don't know who you are," he reasoned.
"I know who you are, Ivar the Boneless," she said watching in triumph his face decompose and eluding his questions. "What dark thoughts are clouding your mind, my prince?
"Nothing of your concern!" He didn't like the way she smiled knowingly at him, as if she knew secrets he could not even fathom. "How do you know my name? What is your name?"
"I don't have a name," the woman said with the ever enigmatic smile on her pretty face.
For she was more beautiful than any other woman Ivar ever saw – perhaps she was merely a figment of his imagination. Her smooth skin looked soft and he wanted to touch it. Trickles of water glistened on her cheeks and down the slope of her nose. He could not see the exact color of her eyes but he new they were dark as the bottom of the sea.
"What do I call you in this case?"
"I will be called whatever my prince desires," she hummed softly, ripples erupting in the water behind her as though she was flailing her legs.
Where did she come from? Ivar had been sitting by the water for hours, she couldn't have stayed underwater this long. Suddenly her silky skin looked too perfect to be real, and if it wasn't too dark to see clearly, Ivar would have sworn he saw it glimmer and reflect the moonlight like a thousand iridescent scales.
"Fine," he said, agreeing to play her little game. "You are Siv from now on."
"My prince's wish is my command."
"Now tell me who you are!" He demanded, leaning forward and causing her lean away from the shore. He smirk – he always liked seeing people back away from him in fear.
"I do not understand," she said. "I am Siv, what else do you want me to be?" The young woman wondered in confusion, worry creasing her forehead. It did not make her look any less mesmerizing, if anything it captivated Ivar even more. She was like a child – an infinitely wise and cunning child with a silver tongue. He could recognize himself in this description.
She did say something interesting though. What was she? Surely no woman could rival her, she had nothing to envy to Lagertha, to his own mother, or even to Freyja. Big, deep eyes stared right at him as he pondered his next words.
"What are you Siv, where are you from?" Ivar found himself speaking lowly, in order to not frighten her. It was the first time he put conscious effort into softening his voice, but his patience was wearing thin.
"I was born here, I've always lived here," she answer happily, almost proud to finally be able to answer one of Ivar's inquisitive questions.
"You are lying to me, I know you are," Ivar accused her. Siv's smile wavered and her entire being lightened down a bit, yet when Ivar looked up, he saw no cloud hiding the moon. "Only a vixen would go out after nightfall to bath naked in the freezing water. Tell me what kind of creature you are."
The woman smiled fondly and shook her head, showing him that it was an information she was either not willing to give him or not allowed to.
"I cannot tell, but if you guess I will reward you," she told him in a tempting voice.
"Why should I believe anything you say? You speak in riddles and harbor a look of fake innocence, how can I trust you?" The suspicious way he glared at her didn't faze her one bit. He would have expected a reaction of some sort facing his blatant hostility but she showed no emotion besides mild amusement.
"Why mistrust me? Have I done anything to upset you?" The creature uttered in a sultry voice, her every word coated in honey. Ivar was getting tired of getting more questions instead of answers.
She swam closer to him and though Ivar was still well on the grass and not too close to the water, she still managed to graze his forearm with her hand when she stretched out her arm. The young viking jerked backwards upon feeling his skin sizzle where she touched him.
"I can prove to you that I am on your side," she said, her dark eyes set on him.
She slid back down the edge and let her arm fall to her side in the water. Between disappointment and relief, Ivar took in a long breath as soon as she withdrew her hand.
"Then you must tell me how you know my name," Ivar challenged her, desperately trying to squeeze some information out of her. Their exchange was going round and he would soon run out of patience.
"I know things," the creature uttered softly, a smile on her lips as she shrugged her delicate shoulders, causing her hair to slide down her upper arms.
"How do you know those things? Who told you?" Ivar questioned her further, repressing the urge to move closer to her and thus fall in the water.
"The moon," she giggled playfully. Her eyes looked up to the shining orb in adoration and her smile widened. But it quickly faltered and her eyes set back on him. "The moon sees everything." Ivar could not tell if she was serious or not.
"Do not waste my time, creature," Ivar hissed. "Speak plainly or I will cut your tongue with my ax."
"Threats are unnecessary, my prince," Siv assured him. "I said I would prove my good faith to you and I will, but not with words. Words are not my people's way, that is your kin's prerogative."
He would deny it later, but Ivar's reasoning during this conversation was greatly influenced by his desire for the woman – after all he was but a man.
"Come closer, my prince. Do not fear the water, it will not bring you harm, nor will I," she promised, her slender finger drawing a cross on her chest, right above her heart and on the swell of her breast. She did not show any indication of purposely trying to elicit a reaction from him, but as all women did, she must have been aware of the way men reacted to her.
Reaching out for him again, she raised her right hand out of the water and towards him, gesturing Ivar to approach as the drops of water dripped from her open palm. Nothing ever felt as tempting as doing as she said, and Ivar was sure that had he been less clever he would have dived right in the depths of the water for this enchanting woman, even if it meant his death.
"What are you doing to me?" He asked, shaking his head to get rid of her influence. Instead he focused on the sound of nature around him, and the shimmering of the water, avoiding her magnetic gaze at all cost.
"Nothing, my prince," she said. "Not yet. Now come, come to me. I will erase your pain and your doubts, I will open your eyes. All I ask in return is that you speak to me, and if you do I will grant you a wish."
"A wish?" Ivar asked in disbelief. "If you lie to me-" he began in a threatening tone. "-It will be the last thing you say. You pretend to know who I am, but you don't know me at all, woman. I am Ivar the Boneless, son of King Ragnar Lothbrok, you cannot fool me or trick me. I am smarter than you and you will soon find out that whatever evil creature you are, my cruelty is greater than yours."
"Enough! Stop it!" The young woman screamed at him all of a sudden, the dim light once again playing tricks on Ivar's eyes who could not make out what caused her to shine like the moon was not hanging in the sky but rather hiding under her skin. "I will not hear any more of this! You do not listen to me! Ivar you have to listen to what I say! I speak the truth, I cannot lie!"
"How convenient!" Ivar laughed dishearteningly. "But I have nothing better to do, so speak. What do you want from me?"
"I need to know what burdens your heart. Confess to me and your secrets will be buried in the deep sands at the bottom of the ocean."
"I have nothing to confess!" He replied all too quickly for her to believe him.
"Your people lie," Siv said. "And although I cannot, I recognize a lie when I hear one."
"Fair enough, I lied." Ivar sat straight and smiled smugly. What did he have to lose after all? He would do as she asked and see what comes of it. "I confess that I plot against my own family; I confess I aspire to greater things and I am ready to kill whoever stands in my way; I confess that I want to exceed my father's exploits, and I confess I desire you more than anything."
"You and I cannot breed," Siv chuckled and shook her head with a smile. "Your confessions were fair and true, I accept them."
"Now do your magic, creature. Erase my 'doubts and fears'," Ivar snarled, misquoting her previous words.
It transpired in his voice that he did not take her seriously, but if she showed any sign of having tricked him, he could still kill her with his ax. No one would ever know that Ivar Ragnarsson let himself be manipulated by a naked woman.
"Your mind is sharper than your brothers' swords," she declared confidently though the words were said carelessly, as if they bore no weight at all. Siv began to comb her hair using her fingers and leaned on the grass, her breast pushing together. She looked up to meet Ivar's steady gaze fixated on her. "Your eyes are the color of the sea and the sea you will make yours. Ivar the conqueror, Ivar the unyielding, Ivar the strategist – you will have many names and be remembered for years to come."
"How do you know that?"
"I told you-"
"The moon told you? Is that it?" He asked with a click of his tongue.
"You still do not believe me," Siv stated plainly. "But my words are true. May them bring you comfort as you think them through. Let them carry you through life, wait until they become reality and you will see."
"Alright, I believe you," Ivar told her, if only to see the displeased frown disappear from her delicate features.
"What you think you lack of in strength, you make up for in intelligence,. But your condition is no weakness to you, it is your enemies' weakness – everyone is always going to underestimate you and this is what makes you dangerous."
As she spoke, the light surrounding her grew and extended on the water, making it transparent and glowing. Now Ivar could no longer deny what his eyes had been trying to tell him from the beginning of this strange exchange – the iridescence did come from scales and the ripples in the water were not caused by her legs. In their stead was a long and delicate looking fish tail, and her words echoed in his mind.
You and I cannot breed. I have always lived here. Words are not my people's way. I cannot lie. The moon told me. Your secret will be buried in the deep sands at the bottom of the ocean.
"You are a mermaid," Ivar exclaimed victoriously, making the stunning creature flinch in surprise.
A weak smile caused the corners of her lips to twitch upwards but she did not smile. It was a sad victory for Ivar – he found that he would rather have her smile than be right. He thought that this was a win-win situation, that she couldn't tell him but wanted him to guess – but now it felt like this game had a winner and a loser. Siv lost, and Ivar found no joy in winning.
His mother had told him about mermaids. Beautiful and dangerous creatures that have tremendous power over men. Not evil like the Lorelei, but good-natured and of good omen. His mother told him that if one could steal a mermaid's hair, the poor creature wouldn't be able to return to the sea and would be forced to stay with her captor until he let his guard down enough to leave her hair in plain sight so she could retrieve it. It was but a tale of course, surely no one could willing walk up to such a wonder and simply cut off her silky hair. The closer he was to her, the less Ivar could rely on his reason.
"You and I have more in common than you would think," she replied, giving him a nod to show him he was right. "The gods have denied us the ability to walk but it does not mean we do not have a purpose."
But Ivar was barely listening, his mind was elsewhere. Though she did not sing, her every word sounded like music and it was hard not to be entranced.
"Now you have to grant me a wish," he reminded her distractedly, barely remembering her words as busy as he was getting lost in the deep pools of her eyes.
"Anything my prince desires," she said in a voice so soft it felt as tough she stroked his cheek with the back of her hand.
He had thought about it since the words had left her mouth. He might have doubted her in the beginning, but what if it were true? What would he ask of her? Gold? Glory? Respect? A thousand ships and twice as many men to raid new lands? A beautiful woman? Ten beautiful women? To be normal?
Thanks to Floki's and his mother's education, Ivar knew the gods better than most people, and he was well aware of their twisted way of thinking. By wishing to be normal Ivar might find himself having two functioning legs but the mind of a simple man. He did not want that. It should be an easy decision though. Ivar wanted to walk. But like Siv said, this bring a cripple could be a blessing in disguise. After all he did well up until this exact moment, he proved himself to his father and made him proud, he lived despite the odds.
No, he had to think simpler. Sometimes the best things are not those you would expect, the most precious treasures can be the simplest things in life. What else could he want? An offspring. For his name to be passed on to future generations.
"I want to be able to have children and everything it implies," Ivar phrased cleverly.
"Sso be it." Siv nodded and smiled, as if she already knew what he would ask of her. "Now you must kiss me," she requested, to Ivar's utter puzzlement.
"And why would I do that?" Ivar asked in indignation.
"I does not work if you do not kiss me. You must wish upon a kiss, my prince," she explained, lifting herself out of the water. "That is how it is." Siv leaned on her forearms to stay out of the water enough to be at Ivar's eye level. She was completely exposed to him, naked, magical, enchanting.
For the months to come, Ivar would be haunted by this very moment. So quick yet so slow at the same time. Time stretched infinitely until finally he felt himself lean forward and right before Siv moved, his hand shot forward and grabbed her by the neck, pulling her to him to capture her lips in a kiss. He could feel how soft her hair really was. He could feel her left hand grasp his arm, holding tight. He could feel her breath against his cheek when he broke their embrace to breathe, only to pull her in again. He could feel everything, and he didn't not care if the wish came true or not in this moment.
But soon enough, he had to let go, and without a word, without a goodbye, she returned under the surface of the still water and disappeared into the night.
Ivar could still feel everything though. He could feel his legs.
*
Ivar sat on the grass, elbows resting on his knees and hands joined in the middle, and eyes trained on the waterline, waiting. Strangely enough that was all he seemed to do, yet he knew for a fact that it was not true – he had spent the last months sailing West and South-West, leading his men to new lands and conquering them with the help of his brothers' men and his own sly strategies.
He had seen things he father would have never even dreamed of, unfathomably wealthy cities had fallen in viking hands, making them richer than any of them imagined. Ivar's insatiable need for more, always more, could never be satisfied. No matter of much land, how many slaves or women he had, and how much gold he gained over the past year, no matter the fear and respect he earned from his people – he needed something else. His thirst could not be quenched by anything on this earth, and there was one simple reason for that: what he sought most was underwater.
Wherever his raids took him he unmistakeably found his way back to this patch of grass at Kattegat. A many great things had changed in a year. Lagertha killed Queen Aslaug to become queen herself, then Ivar did the same to Lagertha. Sigurd died from his hand, and if Ubbe and Hvitsek still held grudge against him for his act, they did not show it. Life was good, they had plenty of everything and the town become a major trading place in Norway – yes, life was good.
Ivar the Conqueror, this is what his people called him now – now that they didn't have to look down to meet his eyes, now that he stood tall and looked down on them. A sweet yet somewhat bitter reminder of Ivar's chance encounter with a generous mermaid exactly one year earlier, on a similar night.
The roaring laughter and chanting of his people made the walls of the great hall tremble, and from where Ivar sat the silence of the night was troubled only by the distant sound of the festivities. Yet another victory brought to them by Ivar's unfailing mind and logic. However great his physical abilities had became since his legs were brought back to life, they did not equal his wits. He never mastered the art of the sword the way he did that of the ax and the bow. Years of being a cripple did not vanish over the span of a few months.
A crooked smile appeared on his lips – something he was not used to, when in his life does a viking get a chance to smile a genuine smile? Ivar had been restless in his body and mind. Even right now, surrounded by peace and quiet, he could not get his thoughts to calm down.
He no longer needed to come here to be left alone, all he had to do was to demand no one disturbed him and he would be obeyed. Yet he still came whenever he was not at sea or on Saxon land. He was waiting for her to come back though she never showed any sign of her presence.
I was born here. I've always lived here. Her words came back to him and he scoffed – yeah, right, she lived here and yet she did not show herself.
A faint rustle of leaves and cracking of a twig caught Ivar's attention and in a slipt second he had thrown his ax in the direction of the noise. It hit the bark of a tree but he heard a distinctive yelp.
"Who is there?" He asked loudly. "Show yourself!"
"K-King Ivar," a young slave said hesitantly, shaking like a leaf in the wind as she stepped out of the shadows. "I did not mean to sneak up on you. Your brothers sent me, they wonder when you will come back to join the festivities."
"Tell them I will come back when I will come back and not a second before, do you hear me? Now get out of my sight and never disturb me again when I try to isolate myself."
The girl nodded energetically and practically ran back to the hall, all the while trembling under her skirts. She was pretty, Ivar thought. He found himself having these kind of thoughts more and more often since he recovered the use of his legs, but it was not a question of desire but rather an observation. He has had many girls in the past year, but sex didn't taste half as good as it should have in his opinion. His mind was set on one woman, and the gods damn him if he didn't find a way to get her.
"You scared that poor girl," someone said in a scolding manner from his right.
Alert, Ivar jumped to his feet, immediately recognizing the soft honeyed tone of that voice. When his eyes found her, she was not in the water but sitting on a rock a little higher than where he stood. She combed her hair and braided it. Her careless demeanor wouldn't suggest that it had been a year since their first and last encounter. But her presence here tonight meant a great deal to Ivar – it meant that it wasn't merely a question of luck, she had chosen him, she had offered him a wish.
"You look surprised," she observed, letting her hands fall on her lap as she tilted her head slightly while detailing him. "This is what you wanted, no?"
An unsettling feeling churned Ivar's insides. For months she had plagued his dreams and waking hours, the taste of their kiss still lingering on his lips, haunting him, and suddenly she was there. The image of her had been so clear, so vivid in his mind that he could not close his eyes without seeing her leaning on the grass, a mysterious smile on her lips, and dark eyes reflecting his own blue ones.
That was how he remembered her, and that is what she looked like. The vision before his eyes fit that description perfectly. Even the smile was there.
"Surely you do not waste your nights away on this shore for the view."
"Oh but the view is exactly what brings me here," he phrased cleverly, still not detaching his piercing eyes from hers. She shrugged one of her shoulders and a pleased expression replaced the amused one.
"I was waiting for you," Ivar eventually said before quickly adding "Siv".
He hadn't spoken her name once since they parted ways. She was his secret – a half secret only, really. Whenever someone asked how he recovered the use of his legs, he first told them that a mermaid came to him and gave him a magic kiss. Upon seeing their confused frowns he invoked the will of the gods and they left him alone.
"I know, young viking." Another graceful smile came to stretch her lips and she did not move apart from her fin which delicately curled and swayed next to her, still reflecting the moonlight off its iridescent scales.
"Did the moon tell you?" Ivar asked teasingly, earning a frank laugh from the woman.
"What do you want from me, my prince? Or should I rather call you my king now?" She asked amusingly, not answering his own question. "You have all the riches and gold a man could dream of, what is it you could be missing?"
"I have but one unfulfilled wish, and I want to change this tonight with your help," he stated plainly, not beating around the bush.
Siv smirked and pushed her hair back over her shoulder, gesturing Ivar to come to her. He did not hesitate this time and walked straight towards here, standing in front of her rock as she carefully studied him with her dark eyes shining like pearl in the night.
"You know how it works, my king," she uttered. "Confess to me, unburden yourself then state your wish."
"Do I have to state my wish? Can I not keep it to myself as I wish upon your lips?" Ivar questioned, visibly upsetting the mermaid who was offended by the question.
"I suppose you can," she finally said with a wary gaze. "Are you keeping things from me Ivar?" She then asked gently.
"Not for long," he promised and after studying him for another minute, she must have decided he was telling the truth because she gestured him to proceed.
"I confess my ambition has no limits and that I will not cease raiding news lands. I confess that my vow to kill whoever stands in my way still stands. I confess I will not stop until the mere mention of my name instils fear in the hearts of the folk all over the world. I confess- I confess I still desire you more than any other creature in the world and I will not rest until I have you."
The same gentle, almost regretful smile graced her lips as the first time when he confessed his attraction to her.
"We were different a year ago Ivar, but now we are even more so," Siv pointed out. "I fulfilled your wish, and now you can breed and walk on ground, while I still belong to the sea. A mermaid cannot work her magic for her own purposes, my king."
"What about the part where you erase my doubts and fears?" He dismissed her attempt to change his mind about her and changed subject.
"You have become fearless, Ivar. There is nothing I can say that would make you feel better, for you do it just fine by yourself. You are smart enough to know your limits and to find ways to move past them. My prophecy came true and you are a greater man than your father was or your brothers will ever be," Siv told him. "I have nothing else to add."
"Do not sound so disappointed," Ivar said with a smirk, daring to touch her face. His fingers grazed her cheek and she leaned into his palm before coming back to her senses and pushing his hand away. "This will not be the last you see of me."
"I wish I could believe you," she sighed and turned away from him, looking at the moon's reflection on the water. "Have you made your wish?"
His wish was made a long time ago, she did not need to ask him.
"Just kiss me, Siv," Ivar told her.
She did as her king demanded, and gladly so. He was yet again the one to instigate the kiss as he could not wait a second long to taste the salt of her lips again. With one and only one thing on his mind, Ivar deepened the kiss, refusing to let her go, until she had to physically pushed him away from her, letting out a painful gasp as he stepped back. Worry contorted Ivar's features as he watched Siv stare in panic at her lower half while she slowly lost scale by scale.
"W-what have you done Ivar? What is happening to me?" She looked at her fin in horror, wondering if she was dying. "What did you wish for? What was your wish?!"
He did not answer right away – after a while, Siv seemed to calm down when she realized that although it was unsettling, the process was not a painful one. Her hands stroke her tail and removed a handful of shiny scales in the process, but she did not feel a thing, almost as though it wasn't even part of her in the first place.
"What have you done?" She asked in a hushed tone, a little tear escaping the corner of her eye. By that too she was surprised, because her hand went up to wipe it away and stared at the wet palm for a minutes, eyes wide. "I should not be able to do this."
"You are now. You can cry, and you can walk," Ivar declared, full of confidence.
"W-why?" Siv breathed out. "Because you desire me?"
But she was mistaken.
"No, my queen," Ivar stated, emphasizing the last word. "So nothing stands in our way anymore. You cannot fulfill your own wishes, but you did mine. You could not stand as my equal but now you are."
She stared at him in bedazzlement before her eyes focused back on her legs. Slowly her fish attributes disappears, withering away as they left place for smooth, light skin.
"I'm human," she whispered. "I'm human." A smile of utter disbelief and shock stretched her lips and before she could try and stand on her new legs, Ivar knelt down and scoop her up in his arms.
"You are queen," he corrected her. "And I am your king."
He stole one more rough kiss from her and walked back to his house, forgetting about the festivities and whatnot. In all her nakedness she would have drawn much unwanted attention anyway, therefore it was best for everyone to be busy elsewhere – the gods show mercy to whoever dared lay an eye on his siren.
The next morning, Ivar woke up to an empty bed, a chunk of long silky hair tossed at the foot of the bed, and an enchanting voice humming from the next room.