You had only seen two people getting poisoned in your whole life, the first one was your grandfather and you could barely remember it, but the second one was your uncle, and you remembered that one very, very clear.
And through the haze of pain, you could only think of one thing.
Somebody had botched their task. Terribly.
And God, it was coming in waves.
"Are we going to do it now?" You ran up to Bree all breathless and she stole a look at the ladies around you, then grabbed at your wrist and pulled you away from them.
"Let's do it before our parents see us," she whispered, "Do you have the paper with you?"
You nodded, "Do you have the fire striker?"
"Yes," she pulled it from her cleavage, making you stifle a laugh and follow her to the small pond at the back of the yard, away from everyone. You stood next to her before you looked around, then unfolded your paper.
"Who told you about this?"
"Do you know Lord Haymes?"
"One of your father's men?"
"Yes, his wife told me." You said, "She says her cousin wrote everything she wanted in a future husband onto a paper, then twirled around herself three times and burnt the paper, then her future husband turned out to be like exactly as she wrote."
"I actually made a list," Bree said, "Did you?"
"It's very long." You licked your lips, "Okay, you're supposed to read it out loud though."
Bree bit inside her cheek, "You first."
"Why me?"
"You're the princess, you're supposed to be first."
"Bree!"
"Be quick, come on," she said and you took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.
"Okay," You said, "Okay. I want a prince who is-"
"Prince?" Bree cut you off, "Y/N, you're supposed to want a king, I wrote a king!"
"Kings are old!" You made a face, "And all the kings I've seen so far didn't look very pleasing."
"Maybe he could be a young king then."
You heaved a deep sigh, "Okay, I want a prince or a young king who is very handsome, and tall." You read out loud, "His hair shall be long-"
"How long?" Bree asked and you motioned with your hand,
"Like this long."
"How will he wear a crown, silly?"
"How do I wear a crown with my hair?" You motioned at yourself, "He can find a way. His hair shall be long and silky, and his eyes shall be beautiful, even more beautiful than Lord Cary's."
"Someone fancies Lord Cary..." Bree sang and you shushed her.
"He shall love me the moment he sees me-"
"That's not possible."
"Bree!"
"How will he know you well enough to love you the moment he sees you?" Bree asked "Maybe he will...want you, but does not mean he would love you."
You shrugged,
"Well he will want me and love me at first sight, because it will be true love." You answered with your nose in the air, before you skimmed the lines again, "He shall love me the moment he sees me, and we shall have many heirs, girls and boys."
"And his personality?"
You pointed at the paper, "I wrote it too. His eyes shall see no one else but me, he shall be devoted and faithful to me enough to take no mistresses."
Bree scoffed, "Every king has a mistress."
"Mine will not have any." You said and took a look at the last lines, "He shall be very brave, never bore me and he shall take me far, far away to a beautiful country." You twirled around yourself three times and Bree set the paper on fire, before you stepped on it to stomp the fire out, then turned to her with a smile on your face,
"Now let's do yours."
"You dare to come into my kingdom, to my halls and poison my wife?!"
Oh God, why was everyone yelling?
"I'm a Viking like you Ivar, we don't poison people!"
"Oh so you show up, my queen gets poisoned and you expect me to believe it's a coincidence?"
"Ubbe, where's the physician-"
"Get the coal!"
"Stop yelling at him Ivar, we all know you did this!"
"Excuse me?!"
"Hvitserk, don't-"
"Do you seriously think I'd believe you wouldn't poison your wife after what you've done to Sigurd?!"
"Did anyone question her servant?"
"Gala? Of course you want to blame her, Bjorn-"
"How about we go find your whore and ask him, Ivar?"
"Ubbe, hush-"
"What whore?"
"Where's the physician?!"
"Everybody, stop!" Torvi's voice was like a whip, "If you-"
"Ivar!"
There was a noise of crash before the silence washed over you and when the voices came back, you were still unable to open your eyes, but you could feel the scratchy, terrible taste in your throat as somebody pulled the cup away from your lips.
Coal.
Oh this was going to hurt so bad.
"I'm going to kill everybody in that Great Hall-"
"Ivar, think clear-" Whose voice was that? Bjorn's? "Nobody left there-"
"Yes, and they will not leave until the last of them is dead!"
"They can be questioned, all of them."
"What do I care about questioning them!?"
"Are you going to kill your own people just because they were present at-"
You could hear the faint voice of a falcon at the window- why was there a falcon at the window?
"My Queen?" Another voice reached out to you as you tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy, and you felt gentle hands on your stomach before you felt a sudden pressure on your stomach. The pain hit you so fast that your body jerked up in the bed, your stomach making a flip before strong hands grabbed your shoulders and you gasped, then grabbed the side of the bed as first wave of nausea hit you.
And you managed to open your eyes as the pain spread through your body, making you wince. You gasped, trying to pull yourself up in the bed but doubled up from the pain as the hands stopped you again.
"Ivar-" Your voice was slurred, as if you were drunk and the edge of the bed dipped under someone's weight.
"I'm here," Ivar's voice shot through the haze of pain, "I'm here, what do I do?"
"Falcon-" Why was forming sentences so hard right now? Your stomach flipped again as you tried to put your thoughts in order, but it felt like you were fighting against the waves in the ocean.
"What's she saying?"
"She doesn't know what she's saying, Ubbe."
Even your tongue was numb, but with a great difficulty, you managed to raise your arm and point at what you thought was a window with your face still buried into the pillow. A silence fell upon everyone and you gasped, grasping at your stomach.
"Hvitserk, open the window and step away."
"Bjorn-"
"He's right, open the window and step away."
Soon enough, the cold wind filled the room and you heard the birdwings flapping in the room before something flew by you to land on the nightstand beside you and you lifted your head enough to see the bird.
A falcon.
Nobody, not even Ivar who had been shouting at people for what it must've been hours now spoke for a while as you tried to breathe through the terrible pain spreading from your stomach to your fingertips.
Ubbe's whisper was very clear in the silence;
"Freyja."
Right. Freyja.
You did know some things about her and a falcon, but when the pain was pulsing through your system it was way too difficult. You sniffled, clawing at the sheets as you doubled up again, the agony not even letting you breathe.
Another wave of nausea hit you and a spasm went through your whole body as you retched, then coughed, a whine escaping your lips.
You must've been vomiting blood, along with the poison.
"Make it stop..." Your words left your lips in a plea and there was a clash in the room again, as if somebody had either kicked the table or slammed something on the ground.
"Hvitserk!" Ubbe snapped.
"Let the poison out, my queen," The physician said, "Freyja is looking over you, she will protect you."
You could feel your eyes getting heavier by the second, along with the pain.
"God, I'm going to die here," You sobbed, and then the shadows pulled you back again.
"But do you know what will be expected of me?"
You and Bree were in your bed and it was late, very late at night, almost everybody was sleeping. You were in your nightgown, with your knees pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on top of them and Bree was at the foot of the bed, dragging her fingertips on the covers, deep in thought.
"Viking or not, men are men."
"But does it hurt the first time?"
Bree licked her lips, "It depends."
"On what?"
"Whether your lover is gentle or not."
You sniffled, and grabbed a piece of sugary dried fruit from the silver plate on the bed to distract yourself.
"I'm certain Vikings don't even have a word for gentle." You chewed on the fruit, sulking, "I'm sure they like to make people suffer like the savages they are. I'm sure I will be in a terrible pain-"
"Y/N, don't say such things."
"But Bree, what if it hurts?" You insisted "What if he wants to hurt me?"
"He would not marry you if that were the case. I-" She hesitated, "You cannot tell anyone I told you this, but there is this rumor in the court that you paid a witch to enchant him. They say his women warriors claim so. If he's that enchanted-"
"Enchant him?!" You exclaimed, "You can tell those ladies that they can enchant him if they wish to do so, I would not stand in their way!"
"Even you cannot lie and say he's unpleasant on eye."
"He's a barbarian!"
Bree heaved a sigh, "His brothers were very polite to me. I've heard they treat their queens with much more respect than other kings that we know, and you say he was polite to you-"
"For now! We haven't-" You felt your face burn, "We haven't- of course we haven't done anything, but what if he wants me to-" You hesitated, "I don't even know what to do."
"I can tell you. Besides, he will know what to do."
"But what if in marital bed, he proves to be..." You swallowed thickly "Malicious?"
"You're a princess, with a powerful king as a brother." Bree said, "Nobody can dare to be malicious to you, my sweet."
You shook your head slowly, "I've heard the stories, Bree." You mumbled, "So have you. Ivar the Boneless is nothing if not malicious, or daring."
You had no idea whose voice it was because it was way too low, but you were sure that somebody was talking to you. It wasn't your language but theirs, though the soft pleading words were so simple that even you could understand what they meant.
Come back. Please.
The falcon's soft cooing washed over you, and after that you felt yourself being pulled into a dream once again, with a soft touch in the palm of your hand and still a terrible pain in your stomach. But this time, you managed to open your eyes and blinked slowly, trying to get your eyes used to the dim light before you looked down.
Oh. Okay, you were definitely still dreaming.
Because there was no way Ivar would be holding the back of your hand against his lips, his fingertips dragging on your palm right where the scar from his axe was. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was praying, judging by the fact that he looked completely still and silent.
"Ivar?" Your voice came out as a whisper which wasn't such a shock, but nevertheless he froze, as if caught guilty and his blood shot eyes turned to you. You frowned, way too tired to speak but still too stubborn to give in.
"I'm still dreaming, aren't I?"
He blinked a couple of times, then nodded slowly.
"Yeah," he whispered back, "Yeah little shark, you're still dreaming."
You tried to breathe, but the more you tried, the more the pain spread through your body, which made you think in real life, you had to have been in agony if it hurt that much even in a dream.
"I think I broke a bone."
"You vomited five times by now, the physician had to press down on your stomach to make it so. She says that-" Ivar's voice cracked but he cleared his throat, and you made a face at the taste of coal and blood on your lips.
"You understood what I meant."
"Barely," Ivar mumbled, "What-what else should we do?"
"Nothing."
"Other than coal, there must be something."
You shook your head slightly, "That's the thing about poison. You just wait."
He swallowed thickly, his eyes searching your face, "Until when?"
"The morning."
Ivar's jaw clenched, "But you will wake up, will you not?" he asked again, "In the morning, you will wake up?"
His voice was so unlike its usual cold tone that if you weren't sure you were dreaming, you would've asked him. It was almost too low for you to hear, too soft, too...
In need of your assuring, which was very unlike him in general. Ivar did not need any assuring from anybody in the world.
"I hope so." You pulled your brows together as you tried to breathe through the pain, "It hurts terribly..."
He looked like he was at loss for words before he took a deep breath, gritting his teeth,
"I will find the person who is responsible of this and they will wish they were never born," his voice was back to its coldness as he straightened up "What you feel right now will be nothing compared to-"
"Ivar," You cut him off, "No- stay. Please."
He blinked a couple of times, as if he couldn't understand what you meant even if it was very simple.
"You wish me to stay?"
You nodded slowly as Ivar's eyes searched yours.
"Why?"
You would've rolled your eyes if you could.
"Because it's my dream and I wish it to be so."
He frowned slightly in confusion, "You wish for my presence in your dream?"
"I demand your presence in my dream."
That seemed to make him smile just for a second, but it was still long enough for you to see it. He lowered his head slightly, his gaze falling on your palm once again and you raised your hand to drag your fingertips on his forehead to smooth the usual frown there, then raised it a bit more to touch his braids.
Just like you had written on that list.
Silky.
He froze under your touch and if it were real life, you would've retrieved your hand immediately but in your dreams, you were free to do as you wished.
At least that was similar to reality. His reaction.
For only one moment.
His eyes closed for a second and he turned his head slightly to lean into your palm, as if your touch was somehow soothing the demons inside his head.
"It would be lovely if it didn't hurt this much," You whispered groggily, making him open his eyes, "This moment. It's a nice dream."
Ivar took a shaky breath and gulped, "Hvitserk says I brought you here to wither and die."
You smiled softly, your hand slipping a little to follow the shape of his braids.
"I'm not weak enough to wither and die," you murmured as the numbness started spreading over your head again, "Have you not learned still?"
"Try to please him," Your mother had told you, "It would work on your own benefit."
But somehow through this mind numbing fear, you didn't think anyone would be pleased tonight. For a moment, you wondered if every woman felt like this on their wedding night because if they did, you really should've asked them how they had gone through with it, despite the panic. You turned your ring around your finger, trying to control your breathing and your mind wandered off to your home, for a moment you wondered what everyone was doing now.
You doubted your brother was missing you, but you were sure Bree was.
And there you were, almost an ocean away, waiting to be-
Bedded.
Oh Dear God...
You grabbed the wine cup on the table, downed it and filled yourself another. Perhaps drinking would help you to-
What was it that Bree had said?
"To feel less tense. Nobody wants to lie with a statue, and it would be really uncomfortable for you."
For a second, you wished Ivar would just arrive and be done with it, because each second passed made you remember those rumors at your court about the traditions of Vikings on their marital beds.
One lady had sworn to you that they would bathe in blood, then consummate their marriage before Bree shooed her away.
Looking around, you didn't see any bathtubs filled with blood, so that had to be false.
What else was there? You forced your mind to think through the panic, frowning.
One lady had said the consummation would take place in snow making Bree laugh in her face. Judging by how the servants prepared you and put you in a really thin nightgown proved that to be false as well, at least unless Ivar wanted you to catch cold and die.
Bree had used her political power to at least get some clue about how it would go, though. Apparently, she had managed to catch Hvitserk alone and asked him whether there would be people witnessing your marriage consummation, seeing that it was a tradition that even your brother had to bear with when he married his queen –there were many witnesses throughout their wedding night- and the fact that any person could be present was more than enough to make you feel breathless due to panic.
She later on told you Hvitserk had only laughed and told her Ivar would not let those witnesses walk out alive, if they wanted to be present at that.
You were grateful for that, at least.
The cheers from the hall were loud enough to reach the room and even if you didn't exactly know what they meant, you managed to understand a few words. Ubbe was shouting something about his little brother and Hvitserk was... giving a speech?
You shook your head slightly and pressed the back of your hand to your burning cheeks, then rushed to open the window. The cold weather hit your face almost instantly and you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.
Then the door opened.
By some miracle, the pain was mostly subdued, allowing you to wake up. It was as if your mind was cleared as you opened your eyes and took a deep breath, making Ivar's head snap up.
"Y/N?"
"Oh praise the Gods..." The physician said and Ivar looked between you, his blue eyes searching your face as you tried to focus and lifted your hand to rub your eyes. Gala was by the corner, sniffling to herself and the physician came to feel your forehead as the falcon stared at you from the nightstand.
"How do you feel, my queen?"
"Tired." You mumbled, "My throat hurts. And... I feel like somebody broke my bones."
"You may need to borrow one of these from the king for a day or two." The physician smiled at you as she motioned at Ivar's crutches and walked to the table to stir something in a cup.
"She's not eating that unless you taste it first." Ivar's voice was like a whip and you blinked up at him groggily.
"Ivar..."
"My Queen?" Gala took a step towards you and you smiled at her slightly.
"Are you crying?"
"I thought-" She sniffled and stole a look at Ivar, then shook her head, "Does not matter, you're alright now. I prayed to the Gods the whole night-"
"She's sweating and burning." Ivar cut her off, looking at the physician and she nodded.
"Fever is expected my king, but I'm certain the poison is no longer a threat to her life."
For some reason, Ivar didn't look that convinced as he reached to feel your forehead, for once your skin was warm against the coldness of his touch, the complete opposite of usual. You tried to smile at him.
"Have you slept at all?" You asked him silently and he shook his head, his jaw clenched.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm not dying," You tried to joke, "But you look worse than I feel, I'm sure. Where is everyone?"
"At the Great Hall. Whoever is responsible is still within these walls."
You nodded again, rubbing at your eyes and way too tired to speak. Ivar seemed to understand it, because he stood up, making you look up as you remembered something.
"Ivar, did we-" You tried to focus, "Were you here last night? Did I ever wake up?"
"What?"
"Did we talk?" You asked him, and Ivar hesitated, opening his mouth for a second before closing it, his eyes stealing a look at you. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought you had caught him doing something he was not supposed to, judging by the guilty look on his face before he cleared his throat.
"No," he said, "No, you did not wake up. Perhaps it was a dream."
"Oh." You didn't know why it made you feel disappointed, but you tried to pull yourself together, "Oh, alright. It must have been."
Ivar stole a look at Gala and the physician, as if he wasn't sure of what to do, then he leaned in to press his lips to your temple, his hand cradling your head. You felt yourself freeze, not even daring to breathe, as if any movement no matter how small it was would make him pull back.
And that was honestly the last thing you wanted.
"Rest, my queen," his voice was a soft murmur, "Gather your strength. Whoever is responsible of this, I will carve out their lungs and bring them to you."
With that, he left the room, leaving the door open behind him and two guards came inside, keeping an eye on Gala and the physician. The falcon cooed softly beside you and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, then slipped a little in the bed, closing your eyes.