SHE WOLF
— 17. Siege of Paris
As it was time to sail to the gates of Paris, Ylva stood on a large piece of wood, glancing around at the men loyal to her surrounding her. "For Glory or Vahalla!" She shouted out as she raised her weapons, causing many others to cheer and repeat after her.
Bjorn cheered as well as he stood beside Freya, a smile on his face.
Ylva hopped off the piece of wood and made her way over to Freya and Bjorn, smiling widely.
"Can't I go?" Freya pouted as she stared up at Ylva with a pleading look on her face, "Please. I want to go, Ylva."
"Not this time. We don't know the dangers yet," Ylva reminded the girl as she placed a hand on her shoulder, "You're too young. You must stay here, with Helga and the others."
Freya looked to be trying her hardest to control her anger as Ylva called her young. She sighed in frustration and nodded, knowing there wasn't any time to be arguing.
"I shall return soon, I promise," Ylva assured her, pressing a kiss to Freya's head before she walked away with Bjorn.
____
While Ylva was with Bjorn, Floki, Rollo, Ragnar, and countless others attacking the boat, Sihtric was with Lagertha, Erlendur, and Kalf, attacking by land.
Ylva was standing on the boat, looking upwards at the walls of Paris with the slightest of smiles on her face. It was amazing. She couldn't even imagine what was inside those walls.
"Are you ready for this?" Bjorn asked Ylva as he stood beside her, his hand on the small of her back.
Ylva smiled, turning to look Bjorn in the eyes. "Of course, I'm ready. Are you?" She retorted playfully and Bjorn gave her a knowing look.
As they inched closer to the walls, Viking warriors wasted no time jumping off the boats and onto the wooden planks Floki had created.
Ylva yelled out, lifting the ax she held in her right hand. Numerous men shouted alongside her, prepared for what came next.
Ylva wasted no time jumping into the water alongside Bjorn before making her way toward the walls of Paris.
Ylva glanced around, trying not to look uneasy as she saw many men and women shot down by the weapons the Franks used.
Many of them began to climb up the ladders, only to be shot down. "Come on! Get up! Get up!" Bjorn shouted as he stood alongside Ylva.
Ylva was about to climb up as well, only to have Bjorn suddenly grab her by the arm and pull her back down. "What do you think you're doing? Are you mad?" He snapped at her as he stared at her as if she were crazy, "Not yet!"
Ylva rolled her eyes at Bjorn and backed away, an annoyed look on her face. "How do you expect men to die for your cause when you're not there, risking your life alongside them?" She snapped at him coldly and Bjorn froze briefly.
He remained silent and said nothing, knowing she had a point. They were forcing others to climb up to their deaths while they were just standing there.
"Come on! All of you! Go!" Ylva shouted as she assisted them in climbing up on the ladders.
The assault of Paris continued and Ylva began to feel uneasy as several moments passed with it seeming as though everyone who had gone up the ladder had come back down, dead.
"Climb!" Ylva shouted anyway, trying to hide her uneasiness, "Climb!"
One of the men was about to run away, too afraid to climb. In retaliation, Ylva had grabbed him by the arm, pulled him closer to her, and then stabbed him the chest with her sword. "Coward!" she growled as he fell to the ground dead, "Get up the tower! Go on! Come on! Climb!"
Ylva glanced around once more, only to feel nervous about the piles of bodies around her. Suddenly, she turned, only to watch as a bucket of oil was poured onto the men climbing up the letter. An arrow glided through the air before landing on the tower, setting the entire thing aflame. Men and women screamed, engulfed by the flames before they fell off the tower, dead.
Ylva tuned, exchanging an uneasy look with Bjorn at the sight.
Unable to take it anymore, Ylva took a deep breath, just before grabbing ahold of the Tower. She sighed, watching as numerous others began to fall off.
After a long moment, she began to climb the Tower herself, much to everyone's shock, especially Bjorn and Ragnar's.
Bjorn called after her, but she ignored him, much to his aggravation. Remembering what Ylva said earlier on, Bjorn knew he needed to climb as well.
How were they supposed to ask men to fight for them when they weren't taking part themselves?
"Ylva!" Bjorn called out, sighing in frustration as he began to climb as well.
The moment he saw both Bjorn and Ylva climbing up, Ragnar began alarmed and ran off the boat. He rushed over to the Tower, quick to follow after them.
A man beside Ylva ended up being shot with a crossbow and seeing as though it was one of her men from Ashton, Ylva grabbed ahold of him.
Ylva cried out, nearly falling herself as she tried to save him. She groaned and grunted, her fingers on the verge of slipping from their grip on the tower as she held onto the man.
"Ylva! You must let go of him!" Bjorn insisted, a pleading look on his face.
"I can't!" Ylva managed to get out as she shook her head frantically, "He's one of my men. I will not."
"You must!" Bjorn pleaded and Ylva sighed in defeat, "It is you or him."
Ylva stared at Bjorn for a long moment, an uneasy look on her face.
She gave him an uneasy look. Nearly falling due to the weight the man had on her, Ylva knew Bjorn was right. There was no way to save that man and if she continued with what she was doing, she would die as well.
Ylva kicked the man with her boot and he nearly fell, only to have his grip on her become tighter. Ylva yelled out, kicking him once more with all she had, and finally, the man fell.
Ylva turned to look at Bjorn, only to see him staring at something else below them. She turned her head, only to see that it was Ragnar. She sent him a small nod, just before she began to climb up the Tower alongside Bjorn with Ragnar following close behind them.
Once making it up the wall, Ylva started to swing at the men around her with her sword, killing many of them. Once making a clear path, she yelled out and jumped onto the walls alongside Bjorn.
As she climbed over, she kicked one of the men in the face and knocked him to the ground. Once her feet hit the ground, she thrust her sword into his chest, killing him.
Men came after her, and Ylva avoided their forms of attack at ease before slaughtering the lot of them, her ax in one hand and her sword in the other.
She backhanded one of them across the face before slicing his throat. She and Bjorn stood side by side, killing any who came in her direction.
The Franks looked afraid, seeing as though it seemed like no one could touch them as they were fighting side by side, especially Ylva.
Blood covering her face, Ylva yelled out and smiled gleefully. The Franks stared at her in horror, many of them looking afraid. She had cut down most of them as if it were nothing.
Suddenly, she froze and looked ahead, laying eyes on a girl she assumed to be the princess with an unknown man standing beside her. Numerous Franks with shield stood in front of them, protecting them.
Killing them would be the key to conquering Paris.
Ylva chuckled lowly and began to walk in their direction, cutting down any man in her path, which wasn't hard. They looked frightened, knowing if she put her mind to it, Ylva would be the one to reach them.
Just then, Ylva froze as she glanced around, seeing that none of the other Vikings were on the wall, but her. Not even Bjorn.
She stopped in place and began to look around, distracted by it. Where was he?
Worry began to overcome her since she saw him nowhere in sight and because she was distracted, the Franks were quick to grab ahold of her. She tried to fight back but before she knew it, she had been thrown over the wall.
Ylva fell through the air, colliding with both the Tower and the stone walls of Paris before falling on top of the piles of bodies of her fellow Vikings that laid dead on the ground.
She groaned in pain, unable to move for a long while due to the impact of her fall. She coughed, briefly having a bit of trouble breathing before she forced herself to stand up. Blood covered her face, neck, and hands, only some of it being her own, but it was only from her fall.
She forced herself to sit up and she glanced around, frantically searching for Bjorn. She placed a hand over her aching chest and winced in pain, beginning to limp away from where she stood on top of numerous bodies.
She coughed and was quick to cover her mouth, the smoke from the fires polluting the air around her. "Bjorn?" She managed to get out as she looked around for her husband, "Bjorn!"
Suddenly, Ylva froze and a small gasp escaped her lips as she locked eyes on Bjorn lying on the ground, looking to be dead.
"No, no, no," She cried softly, shaking her head frantically.
She limped over to her and grabbed him by his shoulders. She lifted the upper part of his body lightly, gasping at the sight of the two arrows in his back.
She sighed softly, tears beginning to form in her eyes as she grabbed the sides of his face. "Stay with me, Bjorn. Stay with me, alright?" She told him quietly, trying her hardest not to cry as she pressed her forehead against his, "Stay with me. Please. I cannot lose you. Not like this."
Ylva shook her head, beginning to cry. "Not like this," She spoke in a whisper as she looked worried while glancing around at the bodies surrounding her.
____
Back at the camp, Sihtric was sitting in front of Freya, who had a knife placed in the fire to heat it. Once it was hot enough, she lifted it and wasted no time pressing it on the wound Sihtric had on the side of his face. Sihtric immediately yelled out in agony as the hot steel was pressed against his wound.
Freya watched, smiling in satisfaction as the man screamed out.
Outside the camp, the Vikings who had been fighting on the walls were carrying the wounded back to camp. Blood covering both of their faces, Ragnar and Ylva were assisting each other in carrying Bjorn back into camp. He was unconscious and alive, but barely.
____
Dawn soon arrived and still, Ylva refused to leave Bjorn's side. She was standing beside Ragnar, watching as one of the healers tended to the wounds made by crossbow bolts on Bjorn's back.
Just then, Lagertha entered, a worried look on his face. "Is he alive?" She asked in concern, her eyes wide, "They told me the news. Is he dying? Is my son dying?"
"I don't know," Ylva answered in a soft tone as she stared down at Bjorn sadly, "But I pray to the gods he is not."
Lagertha remained silent for a long moment before looking up at Ragnar. "What happened?"
"He was proving that you don't need a title to be a leader," Ragnar answered as he exchanged a look with Ylva.
It had been her words that inspired Bjorn to climb up, but Ragnar didn't blame Ylva. In truth, he was proud. She had inspired Bjorn with words that even Ragnar found himself moved by.
If they were to except people to die for them, they needed to show their people that would be willing to do the same for them.
Just then, Rollo entered the tent, shirtless and covered in blood. He immediately rushed over and sat in front of Bjorn. He looked down at his nephew, a concerned look on his face. "You should have never let him climb that ladder," Rollo complained as he turned to glare at Ragnar, "Now he may die."
"When are you going to stop treating him like a child?" Ylva suddenly spoke up, causing Lagertha and Rollo to turn to her with wide eyes, "He is a man. Let him be one. He is the son of Ragnar Lothbrok and Lagertha, one of the most fierce shieldmaidens to ever live. He is capable of more than you could ever imagine. You all seem to forget that."
"Ylva is right," Ragnar spoke up, nodding his head as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Bjorn is his own person. He chose to climb up there with Ylva. No one could have stopped him and in the process, he proved himself a capable leader."
"Today we came so close," Rollo complained as he stood up and walked closer to Ragnar, "Next time, we will not make the same mistakes."
Ragnar sighed in frustration. He groaned in pain, walking out of the tent without another word said.
Once Lagertha and Rollo left the tent as well, Ylva sighed. She made her way closer to Bjorn and knelt in front of him. Her lips parted and she lifted her hand, running her hand over his bloody cheek.
"You must stay strong, Bjorn," She whispered to him softly, a sad smile on her face, "You were great today and I'm proud of you. More than you could ever know. But you must get better," She paused, leaning closer to Bjorn as she lightly brushed her hand over her belly, "You have much to live for."
She pressed a light kiss to his cheek before sitting back down, refusing to leave his side.
____
That night, Bjorn woke up from his long slumber to hear a familiar voice groaning. It was Ylva, sitting on the ground as she pressed the hot metal of her knife against the cut on her arm that she hadn't gotten from her fall off the wall.
"You see?" Bjorn suddenly spoke up, causing Ylva's eyes widened as she turned to look him, "You should have never called me that in the first place."
"Called you what exactly?" Ylva asked in confusion as she walked closer to him.
"Ironside," Bjorn answered, a disappointed look on his face, "It was you who called me that first. Not my father," He paused, chuckling humorless, "As if the Gods are protecting me as they protect you."
Bjorn began to cough and Ylva knelt in front of him. "I don't know about you, but you seem quite alive, don't you?" Ylva replied as she gestured down at him, "Just as I am. The gods were testing you and you passed. You stayed strong and you survived. Just as I did when I was wounded in England."
"Today went badly," Bjorn confessed, a disappointed look on his face.
"Yes, it did. But your father is not to blame. I know he isn't. At least we'll learn from these mistakes," She explained to him in a calm tone, "As we always do."
There was a moment of silence before Ylva smiled, lightly stroking his face. "You led today, Bjorn, alongside me. We fought side by side and together, we made it up that ladder and had those Franks pissing themselves," She explained, causing Bjorn to quietly chuckled as Ylva grabbed his hand and held it.
"I only did what instincts told me to do," Bjorn admitted in a calm tone, "I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. You were right. It's not right to have people die for you when you're not there, risking your life alongside them."
"Well, that is how I ruled all these years since I was a girl. It was something I learned myself, not from my father or brothers, and my people loved me for it," Ylva explained, a smile forming on her lips.
"What are we going to do?" Bjorn asked Ylva curiously, "Does my father have a plan?"
"He always has one, doesn't he?" Ylva replied as she smiled at him, "What makes this time any different?"
Bjorn nodded his head slightly. There was a moment of silence between them, just before Bjorn spoke up once more. "You were hesitant. To let go of that man, even if holding onto him would lead to your own death. Why?"
"Loyalty to your people is one of the true qualities of being a good leader. I must protect all of them, in any way I can. I expect them to die for me. They would expect me to do the same for them and I would, as I've said before," She reminded him of what they spoke of earlier and Bjorn sighed in defeat.
"Well, then, what made you change your mind and let go of him to save yourself?" Bjorn asked her curiously.
Ylva remained silent for a long moment as her lips parted. She sighed, just before deciding to speak up. "My children. Gyda and Freya. And you, of course," She admitted, refusing the mention the main part just yet.
Bjorn smiled at her words and Ylva smiled back at him. She leaned closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. However, as she did so, she placed a hand on his chest, causing Bjorn to groan in pain.
"Sorry!" She awkwardly apologized and Bjorn chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
Ylva removed her hand and they kissed briefly once more, both of them smiling into it.