SHE WOLF
— 13. Endurance
At their camp, Ylva and the rest of the Northmen were preparing for battle with Lord Burgred. Bjorn sat beside Ylva, who was placing blood from the bowl in front of them on Bjorn's face.
When she was done, Bjorn dipped his fingers in the bowl and turned to Ylva, who was smiling at him. He ran his thumb from her forehead, down to her left eyes, and then to her cheek.
He did it again with his whole hand to both sides of her face. Ylva opened her eyes and smiled at him, chuckling softly as she shoved his hand away.
Bjorn smiled as well, only to watch as Ragnar crouched down in front of the duo. He glanced between them, a disapproving look on his face. "Are you two finished?" he asked them in an annoyed tone.
As Ragnar walked away without another word said, Bjorn sighed in frustration. He turned to exchange a look with Ylva before they both stood up, prepared for battle.
___
Upon arriving on the hill, Ylva carried an ax in one hand and a sword in the other instead of using a shield. She was in a crouched position behind Bjorn, close to the others.
"I can't see anyone," Bjorn told his father quietly as he sighed in frustration.
Ragnar raised his hand to tell them to stay in place and as if on cue, they heard horses, which meant the Mercians were close. "They're up there."
"Wait!" Torstein exclaimed as he grabbed Ragnar by the arm to stop him from going any further, "I will go first."
Torstein panted for breath as he weakly stood up. He grabbed Rollo's shield, telling him thank you before he walked forward.
It wasn't long before Torstein had died at the hands of the Mercians, but he didn't go down without fighting. Even while dying and missing an arm, it didn't stop him from killing a Mercian before he himself died.
Once it was time, Ylva yelled out as she ran forward alongside the others and killed any Mercians in her path.
One of the men swung at her and Ylva ducked, cutting him across the thighs. He fell into a kneel and Ylva slit his throat.
She swung her weapons at numerous others, blood splattering across her face as she slaughtered most of them at ease.
Suddenly, four men came at her at once, surrounding her. She yelled out as she slashed at them. Bjorn stood near her, fighting some of his own.
Just then, one of the men punched Ylva in the face and roughly pushed her back, causing her to collide with the man standing behind her. She lifted her sword to stab him, only to have her eyes widen as he drove her sword straight through her belly.
She gasped in shock and glanced down, watching as he removed the sword from her belly. She cried out as clutched her severely bleeding belly, falling into a kneel.
"Ylva!" Bjorn shouted loudly and rushed toward her.
The man who had stabbed her was yelling out, on the verge of finishing her off when Bjorn tackled him to the ground. He struck him in the face repeatedly with a helmet, just before finishing him off.
He killed the last two before rushing over Ylva, who laid unresponsive on the ground. "Ylva!" He called out worriedly, only to get no answer, "Ylva!"
A small gasp escaped his lips and his eyes widened in alarm as he placed his hands over her bleeding belly.
____
Despite Ylva being injured in battle, the Northmen still ended up achieving victory against the Mercians with Prince Æthelwulf's help.
Many were left injured and dying, one of them being Ylva, who had survived being stabbed but was still unconscious since it occurred.
With Rollo, Ragnar made his way over to where Bjorn was sitting beside where Ylva laid injured. Two healers were tending to her and Bjorn watched closely, feeling deeply uneasy about the whole ordeal.
He couldn't bear the thought of losing her.
"Is she still alive?" Ragnar asked as he walked up to Bjorn.
"Yes," Bjorn replied quietly as he continued to look down at Ylva, "Like she always says, she was raised to endure even the worst of injuries. But this one..." He trailed off as he found himself looking shameful, "I do not know."
Ragnar gestured for his son to stand up, which Bjorn ended up doing and followed his father in standing several feet away from where Ylva laid dying.
"It is my fault," Bjorn confessed as he sighed deeply in defeat, "I didn't protect her."
"Ylva is perfectly capable of defending herself. She is experienced on the battlefield. More experienced than even you. She does not need anyone to protect her," Ragnar explained to Bjorn in a calm tone, "We fight. That is how we win and that is how we die. Ylva understands that. She isn't afraid of dying. She knows in her death, she will be going to Valhalla to feast with the Gods."
"But she is with child!" Bjorn suddenly spoke up, causing Ragnar to freeze in place.
His eyes widened in shock, as did Rollo's. Ragnar backed away from Bjorn, trying to contain his anger and frustration that he felt toward his son. He turned his back to Bjorn, beginning to pace.
"And you let her come?" Ragnar questioned Bjorn as he walked back over to him, "Hmm?" He growled, lightly striking Bjorn across the face while his son avoided eye contact with him, "She will probably die, with your child in her belly, a child that would have succeeded her as Earl of Ashton. Now, in their death, they will be a civil war in Ashton, a war for the Earldom now that Ylva is dead with no heir and it will be your fault. All because you have the strength of a man, but the will of a little girl."
"Do you think I didn't try to make her stay put?" Bjorn snapped at his father lowly, "She listens to no one but herself!"
"I can't believe you're my son," Ragnar complained as he shook his head in disapproval. Bjorn remained silent and did nothing as Ragnar roughly shoved him back, "I can't even look at you!" He growled before storming off.
Rollo watched Ragnar leave before turning to Bjorn, who was staring down at the ground in shame as he tried not to cry.
He sighed in defeat and walked closer to his nephew. "I do not think she will die," Rollo confessed in a calm tone, "She is strong, like her mother before her. You are right. She was raised to endure and she will do just that. She wants to live. Not to avoid some civil war that will occur in Ashton if she dies, but because she has something else to live for now. You and the child she carries in her belly. She has a lot more to live for these days than she did when you first met her as a boy," He explained and finally, Bjorn turned to look him in the eyes, "But if she hears you weeping and lamenting, she will choose to die. Be strong. Be a man. Coax her back from Valhalla. But make it worth her while, for she is already at the gates."
Bjorn stared up at his uncle and nodding in understanding. He turned to glance at Ylva, letting out a large sigh.
_____
FLASHBACK
ELEVEN YEARS PRIOR
Ylva had been nine at the time. She walked outside to find her brother sitting on a tree stump in the woods, carving a symbol into the wooden staff he grasped in his hands. "What is that?" She asked Erik curiously.
"The crest of our family," He answered in a calm tone, "It is a reminder that we always endure and no matter what, we do not give up. Endurance. That is the key to everything. Now, tell me, what are our family's values?"
"Family, duty, and honor," She answered in a calm tone, quick to catch the staff he tossed to her.
"What are the three most important traits to have as a leader of this family?" He questioned her as he spun his staff in his hands.
"Wisdom, endurance, and strength," She answered, only to gasp loudly as he swung at her.
She quickly stepped out of the way, her eyes widening in shock. "I wasn't ready!"
"First lesson of the day, always be on your guard. Be prepared for anything," He informed her as he swung once more.
Ylva tried to block his form of attack, only to be hit across the face with the staff. She gasped in pain, blood beginning to stream from her nose.
"It's heavy," She complained as she weighed the staff in her hands.
"I do not care. You must learn to use that before I give you a sword or an ax of your own," Erik argued in a stern tone, just before striking her on the side.
She cried out, but forced herself to stand her ground. He swung again and she lifted her staff, blocking her form of attack.
She pulled back and attempted to strike him, but Erik ended up easily deflecting it. "You're being predictable. Do not let me see your move before you make it. Or we might just have to return to blindfolding you."
Erik swung downwards at Ylva and as she tried to avoid it, she tripped and twisted her ankle, perhaps even breaking it.
She screamed out in pain and tears began to form in her eyes.
Erik stared down at Ylva, a cold expression on his face. "Get up," he demanded in a stern tone.
"I can't," Ylva managed to get out, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she shook her head and tried her hardest not to cry.
"The ability to endure pain is a warrior's true weapon. Learn to endure even the worst of pain and you'll be a great warrior, worthy of our bloodline. Nothing shall ever hold power over you again. Now, get back on your feet," He ordered and Ylva remained still, too much in pain to stand up. "On your feet!"
Since Ylva still hadn't obeyed, Erik tightly grasped his staff and pushed the bottom of it down on her ankle.
Ylva cried out in pain and Erik glared down at her. "I said..." He trailed off and struck her across the face with the staff, "On your feet!"
As he went stroke her again, Ylva lifted her staff and blocked his attack, the cuts on her nose, mouth, and cheek bleeding as she did so.
She nodded at him and slowly pulled her staff away from his. She tightly grabbed ahold of her staff and steadied it. She winced in pain, using it to push herself off the ground.
Once she was standing upwards, she glared up at her brother, a determined look on her face.
"Well done," He told her in a calm tone, "It would seem you're learning quicker than I expected you to."
Ylva nodded and Erik stared down at her, looking almost proud. "Now, attack me with all you got."
Gulping, Ylva didn't respond, trying to hide how much pain she was in. She lifted her staff, yelling out as she prepared to attack him.
___
After a long journey, they returned to where they had previously set up camp. Bjorn carried Ylva through the camp before finding a tent to place her in. He placed her down on a cot before using some extra cloth as a pillow for her.
Her eyes closed, Ylva moaned in pain as he did so. Bjorn looked down at her, taking a seat to her left. He sighed, placing a hand on the side of her face in comfort.
"Ylva," Bjorn called out softly as he lifted the bottom of her torn up shirt to look at her wound.
Before he could lay eyes on it, Ylva grabbed his hand, causing his eyes to widen as he looked back up to see her weakly opening her eyes.
"Do not worry," She told her in a whisper as she stared up at him, trying to hide how much pain she was in at that moment, "I am fine. It barely hurts."
"I believe you are lying," Bjorn pointed out as he stared down at her in concern.
Ylva gulped and weakly smiled, knowing he was right. "It is nothing I cannot handle," She assured him and Bjorn looked uneasy.
He grabbed her hand and gently squeezed it, pressing a kiss to it as he closed his eyes.
____
On the ship ride back to Wessex, Bjorn was sitting beside where Ylva laid unconscious once more. He was using a cloth to wipe the blood from her face, seeing as though she hadn't been able to do it herself following the battle.
Floki made his way over to Bjorn and looked down at Ylva in concern. He lifted his hand, placing it on the side of Bjorn's face. "She is strong. She will survive this. I know it," He told him and Bjorn remained silent, nodding his head, "The Gods will protect her, as they always have."
____
Upon arriving at King Ecbert's villa, King Ecbert had given Ylva a room to recover in and also appointed two monks to tend to her wounds.
They were washing her wounds after patching them up when Bjorn entered. They immediately stood up and left the room, allowing Bjorn to be alone with Ylva.
He sat down at her bedside and grabbed her hand, holding it with his own. "Ylva," He called out softly, and gradually, Ylva opened her eyes to look at him.
"Bjorn," She responded, weakly smiling up at him, "Why are you here, with me? You should be enjoying yourself. I hear them celebrating. We won a great victory."
"There's no point in feasting with the others," Bjorn replied as he shook his head, "Not when you're not able to be there with me."
Ylva remained silent for a long moment. She stared up at him, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Are you angry with me?" She asked him in a whisper.
"Of course I'm not. This is not your fault," Bjorn assured her and Ylva scoffed.
"Of course it is my fault. You warned me, you begged me not to fight and I still did. I was reckless, not thinking about the safety of the child I carried inside of me. I'm not used to this. I'm used to being able to fight whenever I please, not fearing for my safety. But now, I have another to think of," She explained as she placed a hand on her growing belly.
Bjorn looked down at Ylva and frowned, only to watch as she nodded at him. "The child survived, Bjorn."
Bjorn gradually began to smile, delighted by the news. He laughed softly and placed a hand on her belly. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he found himself filled with happiness since he had not lost Ylva or their child.