The fear you had felt when you first stepped into Kattegat was nothing compared to that night. Ivar walked into the room about two hours after Bjorn had left but you stayed curled up at the edge of the bed, with your back turned to him, knees pulled up to your chest and kept your eyes closed, which was the most difficult part, seeing that the images of him performing a blood eagle on that man kept flashing behind your closed eyelids.
"What happens if we don't like each other?"
Your brother groaned and rolled his eyes. It was very clear that your mother had invited you and him to her chambers to make everything less tense between you two, -seeing that you both were there and she was nowhere to be seen- but it was also very clear that both you and your brother were still very angry.
"What?"
"What happens if we don't like each other?" You asked again, "He- um-" You gulped, "Ivar and I."
He crossed his arms, "Make him like you then."
You pinched your lips, turning your gaze to the fireplace, "Is that what Rowan told you?"
"Unlike you, sister, Rowan is actually smart and knows what's best for our country."
You turned your head to look at his bored expression, narrowing your eyes.
"Do you think mother and father liked each other?" he asked you "When they first met? Or ever?"
You frowned slightly, "Yes?"
"Oh God, I hope you can survive with this naivety in there," he said "I should pray for you. Do you think the Queen and I like each other?"
"It's beyond me why anyone would dislike you, brother." You said, your voice dripping with poison and of course he saw right through it.
"I should hope your marriage will be as successful as mine, sister."
You cleared your throat, "I keep thinking what-" You heaved a shaky sigh, "What father would think."
He scoffed, "He'd understand the importance of this decision. I think you would still be the only one who is clueless."
"You're not very worried about me, are you?" You asked slowly and he tilted his head to the right, eyes fixated on you.
"Everyone keeps telling you how beautiful you are, don't they?" he leaned in, "You should be glad you're of royal blood and not a commoner, Y/N. Beauty without wit can be very unfortunate."
You gritted your teeth, keeping your gaze on him and he smiled softly.
"Everyone in this family had to do something for power." He said, "You know what father did-"
"That's merely a cruel rumor-"
"What mother did,"
"She didn't-"
"It's about time you made a sacrifice."
You tried to keep your anger in check, "And what sacrifice have you made? You're a part of this family."
"I'm the king."
"And I shall be a queen." You said, "Ivar does have a very big army, does he not? Bigger than ours, biggest in the world. How fortunate of me."
Veiled threats were a tradition in your family, after all.
He raised his cup in a mock of toast, "How fortunate indeed," he said, "That he will marry you before he has any idea about what you are really like. As beautiful as a painting, with lack of wit. Sort of like a statue, wouldn't you say?"
You pursed your lips together, keeping your burning gaze on him and he downed his drink, then stood up.
"Try not to bore him to death on your wedding night," he said, "We do not know just how savage they are, after all. Tell mother I had things to do."
With that, he left the room, and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, turning your gaze to the fireplace once again.
You opened your eyes into the darkness that was only partly illuminated by the moonlight. The whole room was silent, except for Ivar's soft breathing and you blinked back the tears, then turned your head to look at his sleeping form.
He did not look like a killer at all, at least not now.
You sat up in the bed as silently as you could, then got up and grabbed the furs and walked out of the room, careful not to wake him up. You had no idea how you were going to be able to look him in the eye next morning or...
From now on.
After seeing what he had done to that man.
You walked through the hall and stepped outside, the cold weather hitting your face and sending a shudder down your spine almost immediately. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment but opened the again when you heard the noises and turned your head.
Floki, the man Hvitserk had told you about, seemed to be still busy with building the huge wooden figure in the middle of the yard. You hesitated only for a moment before you hugged the furs deeper over your body and made your way to him. Your approaching seemed to catch his attention because he turned his head to look at you, then jumped down from the giant figure.
You didn't need to wonder if he knew who you were.
"Queens can rarely get sleep, can they?"
You tried to smile, "Floki, is it not?"
"Yes. And you're Y/N."
"I am," you nodded, "It's nice to meet you. People speak highly of you."
He eyed you up and down, a small smile playing on his lips.
"And thank you," You motioned at the wooden figure, "For this. Bjorn tells me it is for the Gods."
"Our Gods," he corrected you, making you frown slightly.
"I'm not a Christian anymore."
"Is that right?"
You narrowed your eyes slightly, and his smile widened as he stole a look at the figure.
"I don't know why Freyja would take an interest in a Christian," he said, "But I'm doing this for Ivar."
Hearing his name was enough to make your head snap up, but you tried to pull yourself together,
"Well I'm grateful nonetheless."
Floki hmmed, "People say you bewitched him."
"And do you believe that?"
His gaze on you was unwavering, making you shift your weight. "In a way," he said quietly, "It's in his blood, after all. His father was also very...drawn to a Christian."
You pulled your brows together, "I'm not a Christian anymore." You repeated, making him scoff a small laughter.
"You shouldn't be out in the cold," he stated, and you pursed your lips together, then took a deep breath,
"I wish you a peaceful night." You managed to say calmly, "And you're always welcomed inside."
You turned around to walk inside once again, trying to ignore the nervousness filling your system and managed to not look back.
***
You must have exhausted yourself emotionally because you had no idea about when Ivar had woken up, or left the room. When you woke up, you felt as if all your bones were broken and you had a terrible headache, one that could not be cured by a bath and shut curtains. The falcon flew in the room as she liked, but refused to fly outside even when Gala opened the window.
You were beginning to get used to her presence anyway. She filled you with a strange sense of power, as if you could do anything.
As if she was indeed sent by Freyja.
"My Queen?"
You swallowed thickly, turning to look at Gala "Yes?"
"The king and his brothers are having a private meeting, are you certain you wish to-"
"Yes." You interrupted her "After- after last night, I..." You trailed off and sniffled, "I should."
"We can reach there without having to go to Great Hall," Gala said helpfully as soon as you walked out of the bedchambers, "That is if you wish to...avoid attention until you're fully back to health."
You nodded and let her guide you until you passed a hall you hadn't been to before to reach the door being guarded.
"My Queen-" the guardian started but you walked past him without so much as a glance, then opened the door.
"I told you we were not to be disturbed-" Ivar stopped talking mid-sentence as soon as he saw you and Hvitserk jumped on his feet, while Ubbe heaved a sigh and Bjorn looked between you and Hvitserk with a frown on his face.
Oh this was going to be harder than you assumed it would be.
How was it that even if you had seen him kill that man in a terrible way, a small part of you wanted to-
You stopped the thoughts before you could even consider them, and leaned your back to the closed door as Ivar grabbed his crutches to stand up, eyes focused on you.
"Y/N, I know you're bored but we talked about this. You can't be outside until you feel better."
You shook your head, "There's something we must talk about-" You stole a look at his brothers, "Something that you should know. All of you."
"Then we can talk about it later, you really shouldn't be standing up-"
"I know who was responsible of the poison incident."
"So do we, Y/N-"
"No," You shook your head, "No you don't. You- Ivar, you merely caught the middle man."
Ivar pulled his brows together, "Middle man?" he repeated and Hvitserk licked his lips.
"Ivar is right, you shouldn't be standing up."
Both Ivar and Hvitserk himself looked surprised by him agreeing with Ivar and you shifted your weight, gulping. Going there, approaching them, it meant getting closer to Ivar and you didn't know if-
You didn't know if you could act as lovesick as before, after last night.
"Yes- sit down, come on."
You stole a look at him, pursing your lips, but couldn't come up with an excuse to dodge it, so you made your way to the huge table and perched on the edge of it, feeling Ivar's glances on you before he sat down across you.
He looked...the same. As if there was nothing wrong.
"What middle man?"
"The man you caught, he couldn't have come up with it." You took a deep breath, "But my brother could."
And just like that, a stunned silence fell upon the whole room. You cleared your throat, and sat up straighter,
"You didn't spend much time to learn about my family," You mumbled, slowly sticking your nail under the bezel of your ring, "People say my father poisoned my uncle for the crown, just in case he started posing a threat. My grandfather was also poisoned, everyone seems to think it was another member of our family, I- I didn't know much about it when I was a child but then my father- he taught us. Me and my brother. How to fix the amount, how to make it right. How to...carry it."
You pushed your nail under the bezel a bit more until it popped up, and you turned your hand, letting the powder fall out of your ring onto the surface of the table. You took off your ring, then put it on the table while Ivar stared at you. Hvitserk made a move as if he wanted to touch the powder but Ubbe stopped him, while Bjorn took the ring to inspect it.
"It's my family's recipe, you could say." You muttered, "I told you before. We don't exactly fight, we just poison people."
"You've had it with you all along?"
"My um..." You scoffed, "My best friend gave it to me, from my brother's cabinet. In case I needed to use it."
"To poison me." Ivar corrected you and you shrugged slightly,
"In case my future husband turned out to be as ruthless as everyone claimed."
He was, was he not? He was ruthless to that man, after all.
Ivar let out a tense chuckle while Ubbe raised his brows.
"Well, little innocent princess is not that innocent after all," he commented and you licked your lips.
"I've never poisoned anybody."
"What if somebody accessed the rest of it? Because I'm assuming there is more."
"I've checked it Ivar, it's full."
Bjorn leaned in, "If your brother tried to poison you-"
"No," You shook your head "No, he didn't try to poison me. He tried to poison you," You turned to Ivar, whose frown deepened.
"What?"
"I've been thinking about that night," You said silently, "It didn't make sense until last night, but after we talked," You told Bjorn who watched you silently, "All of this made sense."
"After you talked?" Ivar repeated and Bjorn rolled his eyes, shooting him a look.
"Don't."
"I didn't drink from my cup because it wasn't close," You said, "You- Ivar, you pulled me closer, remember?"
An attempt to act lovesick.
"So I grabbed the nearest drink, which was to your right, it was supposed to be yours. You were supposed to drink it," you let out a bitter chuckle, "I have been taught not to drink anything before smelling it first since I was ten, but I was distracted so..."
"Your brother tried to kill me?" Ivar said, then chuckled darkly before motioning at Bjorn, "Look at that, you two would get along."
"Ivar..."
"Why, though?" Ubbe asked and you bit down on your lip.
"Ivar killed his best friend."
Ivar looked momentarily confused, "Hm?"
"Rowan."
"Who?"
"The- um, the one who called me a heathen's whore."
"He called you a what?" Hvitserk's voice was low and Ivar shrugged,
"He had that coming."
"Regardless, he was his best friend, and he knows he would have no chance against you and the Great Heathen Army in a battle, so he must have decided to go back to our...traditional way of revenge."
"I should've killed him when I had the chance..." Ivar shook his head and turned to Ubbe and Hvitserk, "What did I tell you, hm? We should've killed him when we had the chance."
For some reason, it didn't upset you. Not anymore, not after what your brother had done. It was as if he were dead already, for you.
"She's scared," The Queen's voice stopped you right before you could walk past the room and you froze when you heard your brother's answer.
"What do I care if she's scared or not?" he sounded like a spoiled child, and you took a step closer to the threshold, leaning your hand to the wall.
"That savage king, he likes how she looks does he not?" the Queen asked, and your brother heaved a sigh.
"That's what his brothers say. I haven't talked to him much, but..."
"I've heard rumors."
"Of what?"
"They say he froze and stared at her when he first caught a sight of her."
You covered your mouth, trying to keep silent,
"Poor bastard then." Your brother scoffed, "To be honest, it did not even have to be him, but that works better. A king is better than a prince, after all."
"She keeps weeping."
"I repeat, what do I care-"
"If she keeps weeping, and not sleeping, she will not look beautiful on her wedding day. Your majesty surely knows how that may end, in his dissatisfaction."
Your brother heaved a sigh, "You can talk to her then."
"Perhaps your majesty's...favorite should talk to her. They do get along after all."
"Bree? No, she likes her way too much, she would be emotional. You can be logical."
"If that's what your majesty wants."
"Tell her-" Your brother thought for a moment, "Tell her no matter how much she cries, she will marry him, and open her legs for him and hope he likes her enough. Tell her not to waste the one thing she has in her advantage. You tell her that."
"Would it not be too brutal, my king?"
"Too brutal?" Your brother chuckled, "That little fool is marrying Ivar the Boneless. She should get familiar with brutal."
That fire of anger had started burning inside you even before that poison.
Even before your marriage to Ivar.
Your brother had always been very resentful with you, very condescending and demanding, even before he became a king.
Would you honestly be sorry for his death? Because the thought did not even make you feel the slightest pity.
And if there was one thing you knew?
You were honestly tired of feeling terrified.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when Bjorn put your ring on the table, making you look up the same time Ivar heaved a sigh.
"Leave us."
"Ivar-"
"I'd like to speak with my wife, Hvitserk. Leave us, I said."
Bjorn looked between you and Hvitserk, then stood up.
"Can we have a word, Hvitserk?" he asked, then grabbed him by the shoulder to steer him to the door as Ubbe stood up as well.
"I'd better go and see what is happening with those two," he said, and walked out of the room, then closed the door behind him. As if on cue, the fire you felt left its place to the old nervousness again, the image of him that night flashing before your eyes. You slipped a little to the right and leaned back slightly, trying to put as much distance between you as possible without Ivar noticing.
Even if he noticed, he made no comments about that.
"That's why you knew what to do," he said after a couple of seconds, deep in thought, "That's why you told me to give you coal, that night."
You were unable to look him in the eye for some reason, so you casted your gaze to your ring, turning it on the table.
"Father taught me."
"How to survive poison, or how to use poison?"
"Both." You mumbled silently and took a deep breath, "Ivar, I..."
"Hm?"
"I saw you last night." You muttered and managed to raise your glances to look at him. "Blood- blood eagle...thing."
He didn't look taken aback at all, instead he looked as if he didn't see your point, "Yes?"
You blinked dumbly, "You don't feel bad about it?"
"Why would I feel bad about it?"
"Because it's inhumane."
"Inhumane?"
"It's- brutal." You explained "Barbaric."
A flash of a wicked smile flashed upon his lips for only a moment, "Barbaric?" he repeated, and your eyes searched his for an ounce of compassion, but found none.
"Ivar-"
"I assume my less barbaric brother was more than happy to console you last night, then?"
"I saw you carve a man's lungs out!" You couldn't help to snap which took both you and Ivar by surprise, "His lungs! So yes, Ivar, talking to someone actually helped, you- you don't talk to me about anything like-"
"I told you I would do that to him." Ivar shrugged, making you gawk at him,
"But I never asked you to-"
"It's not necessarily about you," he snapped back, "It's a matter of principle. Of ruling. I can't let people think I'd let that slide."
You raised your brows, "It's not about me."
"No."
"At all?" You pressed the issue, narrowing your eyes, "It's not about me at all?"
Ivar licked his lips and looked elsewhere only for a moment, "I told you, Y/N. You shouldn't fall for your own deception-"
"I'm not falling for my deception," The anger you had managed to repressed so far was slowly making its way through your veins, "Unlike you."
He looked almost taken aback, "Me?"
"I heard you that night," The words left your lips before you had a chance to stop them, "What you were pleading for. Come back. Please. That was what you said and it wasn't- it wasn't a dream, no matter how much you try to make me and yourself believe it was. You don't want me gone, Ivar."
If you didn't know any better, you'd think the expression that flashed over his features was almost a look of guilt. Like you had caught him doing something he was not supposed to do, something bad, something embarrassing.
He looked almost shy, before that dangerous gleam shone in his piercing blue eyes.
"I do not know, nor care about what you make yourself believe," his voice was way too cold, too condescending, "But it will create an issue if you start acting like less of a Viking Queen you claim to have become. After all, enough people seem to think you're still devoted to your old ways."
You stared at him for a couple of seconds, fury crashing down on you.
Less of a Queen?
Less of a Viking Queen?
How dare he?
"Make sure to tell me how denial works for you," You managed to say as you jumped on your feet, "Because the only one who's being fooled by it, is you, my king."
With that, you walked out of the room, slamming the door behind you.
***
"My Queen?" Gala knocked on the room, then stepped inside, "The man you requested, he's here."
"Good, send him in." You fixed your crown on top of your head, smiling at the falcon by your bedside as she blinked at you, as if seeing through your soul.
Freyja, Ubbe had said. After checking your books, you were sure, falcons were one of the animals that were associated with Freyja, just like cats.
The books also said that whenever Freyja shed tears into the sea –just like how you had wept into the sea in their ship as Ubbe had teased you about- it turned into amber, and you hadn't even known about it until you gave that amber necklace back to Ivar.
And she was also closely related to untamed forces of the nature, which you had an idea about.
Well maybe Freyja did like you after all.
"My Queen?" You were pulled out of your thoughts with the man's voice and you looked over your shoulder as he smiled at you, then bowed slightly.
"Hello," you smiled back, "Fiske, I assume?"
"Yes my Queen."
"Sit down please," You motioned at the chair beside the table and he swallowed thickly, looking around.
"Have I done anything wrong?"
You shook your head, "No, no of course not." You assured him, "I merely wanted to speak to you. Everyone says you're quite the artist."
He nodded silently.
"And you were the artist who inked the king's skin. On his back, there is a serpent."
You had almost died when you first saw that serpent figure on his back.
He nodded again and you walked in the room, deep in thought.
"I wish to be inked as well." You said and his head shot up, and Gala looked between you.
"My Queen-" Fiske said, "It tends to be a very...painful procedure."
"I'm well aware, when can we start?"
"I should- I should consult with the king first-"
"You shall consult with no one, because it's my demand. Not anyone else's."
He swallowed thickly and shot Gala a look as if she could help him, but she looked unfazed.
"May I ask what shape you want?"
You approached the falcon which was watching you silently and a small smile pulled at your lips upon hearing her coo as you ran your fingers over her soft and silky feathers.
"Less of a Viking Queen."
Is that so, Ivar?
"Wings," You said, the thought clear in your head, "I want falcon wings on my arm."