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majesticwren · 1 year

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The Trickster’s Kiss ᚲ (Ivar/Angrboda/Hvitserk)

Summary: What if Angrboda, daughter of Floki and Helga, never died? She is gifted and cursed. She who walks the Earth guided and Inspired by the Trickster. Grown to become a gifted witch, a skilled warrior, a determined and loyal woman. She who takes guard over her loved one, her people and even the Gods. In her life made of choices, war, magic, and whispers, she is destined to always choose the side of a man she loves dearly, over her soulmate. As much as she would always choose Loki, over any other God. Behold! A tale about a War of heart, cultures and Gods. The events of this fanfic starts at S402 continuing to S602. It may contain flashbacks.

Words: 10k Trigger Warnings: Ivar is his own Trigger Warning, Mention of Sex, Mention of Rape, Mention of Murder, Violence. Gifs by: tagged. Divider by: @firefly-graphics

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius @miss-madness67 Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged. ✨

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Chapter 14 - The Feast.

Summer finally came.

The warmth of its Sun burst all over Norway.

The cities and villages all over the country were filled with flowers décors, feasts and celebrations.

The forest's landscape changed. Their evergreen gloomy look, with its deep shades of greens and browns, now bloomed with warm and bright colours given by new flowers and mushrooms. The always humid air carrying its heavy earthy scent was now accompanied by the cheerful chirping birds that populated the area.

It seemed as if everyone welcomed the arrival of the season.

The fairies sang new songs from faraway places, and the wind carried the smell and echoes of numerous festivals.

With the arrival of the season, together with its fruits and crops, something else ripened: Bjorn’s fleet.

Floki worked restlessly on his ships, to finish them on time as he predicted. Helga and Angrboda both helped throughout the entire month it has passed.

And they were finally ready.

Their sails were coloured in warm shades of yellows and oranges, following the colour pattern that the shields of Bjorn’s men would have added to the sides of the ships. Some sails showed runes on them and every longship keel had protection and fortune runes carved into them.

Their dragons watched over the fjord proudly, and over them stood the tallest dragon of the leading longship, made by worked iron and wood; it was an intricate piece of art. Its sail had painted a meaningful opened eye thirsty for discovery. It was an ode to Bjorn, so he may lead his men to great fortunes guiding them towards the Mediterranean Sea.

Helga and Angrboda worked on replenishing the ships with barrels of fresh water, extra ropes and cloths and rags, and empty boxes or bags that would have been filled up by provisions on a large scale just in Kattegat, before leaving.

But they also got their spot ready on the head-ship, loading it with a bag filled with several healing herbs, ingredients and clean bandages, with Floki and Angrboda’s weapons ready for battle, and with a few spare clothes and some food.

Word was sent to both Bjorn in Kattegat and King Harald in Tamdrup.

Because if the ships were finally ready, then it meant for them it was time to leave.

As hard as they would work on the ships, as much work was put into Angrboda’s training.

Most of it was based on lots of meditation and making her anger surface, to create a controlled crisis, and make her calm her own soul down.

But Floki also focused on Angrboda's power of sight.

There weren't any notions she didn’t know already about how to read the runes, but they still used them to interpret signs, dreams, and visions. Or to get them. And she learned then that sometimes, even for a connection or a vision, a sacrifice was needed – a toll in blood, to have clearer signs.

Angrboda found herself stacking stones and reading runes all over again, as she did when she was a child. Only, this time it all had such different meaning and purpose. It wasn’t a game anymore, but harvesting her mind.

At the beginning of their training, it was hard. The first few days, Angrboda felt like she was losing ground on the minimum control she thought she had on her abilities. Pressuring her powers to surface, either visions or whatever it was that Floki called Death-Bringer, discombobulated her entire being and it was mostly painful.

It was like there was a wall inside of her, trapping everything in. Behind which her darkness and some abilities would mostly hide. There was a whole side to her being and nature that Angrboda herself was blind to. To discover it, she had to tear that wall down.

It was a real fight. A siege happening right inside of her. It was her fighting against herself.

But slowly throughout the weeks, it became easier for some aspects. While some remained hidden away.

Floki would not neglect Angrboda’s need for combat training either. It was during one of their fights, that Floki realised losing grip on his axe handle, or suddenly missing a step, wasn’t natural, but commanded.

So, Angrboda found a new ability she never knew she had – she could yield the luck of someone in restricted situations.

She knew she could have some sort of control over the luck of a restricted and very quick situation. It couldn’t be something planned. In that case, it wouldn’t work. So, even saying she had control, was not entirely correct – because she didn’t know the entire situation. But if the moment was right and favourable, then she was able to make someone trip and fall, or lose their weapon, or anything they carried. But that particular ability was probably the most feeble one she possessed. Impossible to predict or control, therefore not to be completely trusted.

Floki and she trained day and night, every time they weren’t working at the ships. But as much as her father wanted to push her to see how far she could go, there were still limits Angrboda wasn’t able to break.

And then there was something Angrboda trained on her own. Her connection with Ivar.

She still wouldn’t accept things changing. But her bond with Ivar changed. Yet Angrboda had no problem considering that same bond she was so opposed to, as if it was something that now defined her.

Runes and meditation were not enough, sometimes, to channel their bond. But when they worked, she managed to have clearer synchronisation with Ivar’s aura.

Sometimes, she wasn’t able to control the spikes of extraneous emotion she felt, much less she was able to completely understand them. It happened only once. One of Ivar’s violent waves of rage was so deep and consuming to let her hear his wrath shout as if he was in front of her and not miles and miles away.

That feeling was enough to shake Angrboda to her core, to the point time and space wouldn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Ivar’s pain. She didn’t even know what caused it precisely, and it didn’t matter.

That time, instead of perceiving the world through Ivar’s eyes, like a latent force hiding inside of him spying the world he saw, as it generally worked when she managed to link to him, Angrboda was instead projected into his world, next to him.

The scene around him was chaotic and faded – she knew she was at the Hall, she recognized its smell and knew just because Ivar knew, but wasn’t sure who else was there, she was clearly connected just to him and felt every aspect of his furious desperation.

At that moment, even if it was just a second, Angrboda didn’t accept the fact that her powers showed once more to be growing. She didn’t want to see that scene from the outside, being connected yet separated from Ivar. She wanted to crawl back inside of his chest and surround him, to protect him from his sorrows.

Because his fury, as violent and scary as it could be, exploded as a protection mechanism. It was his loneliness, the usual pain of existence, and the constant being aware or reminded to be different, that quickly moulded into pride, and as soon as his pride was hurt, it caught fire. Just then Ivar could truly become destructive.

The night this episode happened, their connection was strong. The strongest it has ever been throughout their entire life. Yet at the same time feeble and volatile, and it did last no longer than a few seconds.

Which, then, was mostly what Angrboda tried and focus on. More than its depth, its focus and duration.

Her connection with Ivar didn’t disappear day by day, as she naively imagined it would do at the beginning. So, she studied it.

Angrboda imagined there would have been a reason why it happened. Surely, there was a reason for that bond with Ivar, even if she could not quite imagine it yet.

She took time to wonder, though, whether or not would every man she welcomed in her bed bond to her soul that way?

That theory was soon to be dropped. It didn’t happen with Hvitserk. Not to that degree.

But with Hvitserk she had a completely different type of connection. She wouldn’t feel what he felt unless she was close to him. But even if she was so distant from him, she felt his light. She knew where he was. Always.

It worked and felt the same way it would to look up in the sky and look for one’s favourite star or constellation. She knew where to look, she expected to find that light, and she felt better knowing it shined bright. She needed just to look up, through the landscapes, forests, mountains and bodies of water, and Hvitserk’s light would be there.

But Angrboda had that bond with him since they were kids, it didn’t develop with sex.

Angrboda’s theories on why such a deep soul-tying connection with Ivar could have happened were vast and numerous. But also easily debunked.

Throughout that entire month, the Gods were extremely quiet. Angrboda never felt anything. Not even the howling of wolves carried by the wind.

She expected to feel Loki in some kind of way. And she expected the God’s anger regarding her closeness with Ivar. But that didn’t happen, and Angrboda doubted it was because the God could have been blind to it. Possibly, it could be because he chose to spare her.

Though, the space the Gods left her didn’t make her feel lonely or lost, but enough to be able to breathe.

Now, Angrboda sat on the step of the porch just outside her house, in the centre of Kattegat.

Her eyes gently caressed the roofs of the nearby houses and the street passing by.

Kattegat was animated by a buzz of energy and warmth, it hummed and glowed. Music could be heard everywhere, and jolly chattering accompanied it, mixed with the smell of flowers that decorated the city and the smell of various cooked foods carried by the wind.

The smell of charcoal and roasted meats mixed with the sweeter smell of dried up candied fruit.

Everyone was ready to participate in the celebrations in order to honour Bjorn Ironside fleet and his journey.

How many times before she already saw a similar scenario? How many times did Kattegat buzz and glow like that?

Yet, it felt different. The ground she walked on felt different, as the air she breathed did.

She felt different.

Angrboda patiently waited for her parents to join her, so they could reach for the Main Hall, which would harbour a great feast that night.

She wasn’t sure if she liked living in the city more than the cabin. But she still had to admit she missed it.

Even though being suddenly surrounded by so many people was a bit overwhelming after weeks alone with just Floki, Helga and Ragnar, when he visited to spend the night. She still managed to keep a good grip over her control.

After the word was sent to Bjorn and Kind Harald, it became a matter of time before Harald’s ships flocked into the fjord, heading towards Kattegat. When the two fleets merged then the King’s men helped Floki take the boats back to Kattegat.

After their great arrival at the port, immediately the preparations for the journey began. Everyone knew it was just a matter of days.

“Are you ready?” Floki’s voice squeaked with a giggle, distracting Angrboda from all the thoughts and mind-travelling.

She quickly turned over to him and was welcomed with a smile. Floki just looked at her for a moment, his head tipped to the side. Then, he pulled his hand in front of her. “It will be ok.”

“I know it will.”

He didn’t respond but with a smile and waited for her to grab his hand so to give her a pull-up, helping her to get up.

Of course, there was no need for any explanation. Angrboda knew Floki felt her sharp anxiety.

Truth was that more than finding herself between so many people for the first time in weeks, and more than the idea that the next day they would have left the life they always knew to that point, to reach for new, exciting and unknown adventures – Angrboda was shaken to the core by the idea she would have found herself in the same room with Hvitserk and Ivar after so long and after everything that had happened.

Angrboda ran her hands through the folds of the skirt of the dress she was wearing, making an exception to her usual dressing code for that evening.

For once, Angrboda accepted the idea of being more feminine. She borrowed one of her mother's dresses. A green one, which Helga praised to be a good colour to go with her hair.

Helga soon joined them, hopping out of the house buzzing with such warm energy, clearly looking forward to celebrating at the feast and to their travels.

"We should go, then." Announced Floki looking at his wife, who answered him with a tiny smirk. "Almost ready, dear." Helga moved towards Angrboda, pulling from behind her back a thin floral crown. A giggle left her chest, while she proudly waited for her daughter's reaction, seeing her gift.

Angrboda eyes widened while she looked at it, with its soft lilac bellflowers, yellow daisies and blue liverworts. A genuine, huge smile appeared on her face. "Mother! You didn't have to!" Angrboda squeaked, shaking her head.

Helga shook her words off with a nod, stepping closer.

"There." She placed the crown on top of Angrboda's head and then just stood there for a second, looking at her, sided by Floki. From both her parents’ look Angrboda received such pride and love, to flood her heart completely.

Angrboda smiled and leaned closer to Helga, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, mother."

"We must show everyone who's the prettiest girl!"

Angrboda just smiled lazing greatly in the idea that night was special yet simple and common.

Generally, she would take pride in her strength more than her looks. She wanted to be known as a warrior, she wanted to die honourably in battle, holding her axe. She wanted her name to be renowned among their people, thirsty for fame and conquering as every young Viking.

But that day she was just a girl like any other, about to participate to a feast and celebrate among friends and her people. And she liked that idea.

So, she decided she was entitled to feeling pretty. She even found herself wondering about the possibility of catching others' attention – just for pure vanity.

Floki, Helga and Angrboda followed a group of people up the road, reaching for the Hall. Angrboda walked behind her parents, enjoying listening and observing everything that surrounded her.

Kattegat at dusk was overflowing with the orange light of the many fires lit all around the city, mirroring the spectacle of the sky.

The same energy that hummed throughout Kattegat and its people, buzzed through Angrboda, crawling under her skin.

Feasts and festivals weren’t new, and those weren’t her first celebrations, of course. Yet it was the load of great expectations everyone had, that she herself had, about setting sails and leaving towards the unknown, that made it different.

Many other people were crowding the Hall already. The air smelled of redwood, furs, ale and roasted boar, and it was soaked in bright emotions.

For once, Angrboda didn't dislike the idea of participating in such a big event, being surrounded by such a big crowd.

At the door together with the guards, stood tall and proud Ubbe, who seemed to be busy welcoming a few guests.

As soon as Angrboda saw him, she immediately bolted towards the Ragnarsson.

“Ubbe!” She shouted, tackling him in a tight hug.

Ubbe took a second to react, and embraced her in a brotherly hug, welcoming her with a laugh.

Angrboda took a deep breath, inhaling his aura.

She had to admit she missed him.

She missed all of them – even Sigurd. For different reasons, of course. But the Ragnarssons were still part of her, like family.

Angrboda moved away and met Ubbe’s inspecting look that crossed her figure. “I was almost expecting to find you taller, or older-” Ubbe’s attention got caught by something else, and before Angrboda could say anything, he moved, raising his hands and fixing her crown of flowers – which moved to the side while they hugged. “-Better.” Ubbe stated with a wise nod, then offered her a smile.

Angrboda gave him a playful push, shaking her head. “Your jokes are not funny!”

“Oh – they are really funny.” Ubbe’s words were paired with a smart smirk.

Floki and Helga joined them and to both Ubbe directed a welcoming smile.

“Hello, Ubbe.” Her father's voice danced in those words, synchronized with the movements of his head and shoulders.

“Floki! Helga! Welcome, please enter, have a drink and enjoy.”

Floki smiled and just nodded towards Ubbe, indulging in following his invitation. Helga was right behind him but exchanged one last look with Angrboda before entering the Hall.

Angrboda was ready to do the same, but Ubbe caught her attention. “Hold on a second.”

“What is it?”

“You owe me a talk. I haven’t forgotten.”

It suddenly dawned on her, the weight of his words.

He wasn’t wrong. She remembered from the last time they saw each other. Yet Angrboda hoped that maybe Ubbe could have let it go, since so much time passed by.

But he clearly didn’t.

The last thing she wanted to do now was having to defend her pride, integrity, and the decisions she took.

But mostly, having to explain to Ubbe what went on a month earlier, was something that would have inevitably brought memories and feelings back. Feelings she was trying desperately to ignore and drown.

Angrboda huffed and her body seemed to sag on itself while all her energies suddenly left her and sunk through the ground. “Do we have to? Now?”

“I’m afraid so, little-one.”

Angrboda sent a meaningful look to the Hall doors and another sight left her lips.

The idea of having to delay her entrance felt heavy on her chest – she knew Hvitserk was inside, same for Ivar. And she wanted to see them.

“Can we have this conversation in a few minutes? I haven’t even seen the room!”

“Last time that you said later, you disappeared for a month. So, I would rather not.”

“I didn’t disappear to avoid you.” Angrboda lowered her eyes, muttering those words that had serious meaning, in the same way, a child would complain about eating onions.

She huffed once more and shaking the slight annoyance off, she nodded towards Ubbe. “Ok, let’s do this.”

With another nod, Angrboda moved away from the main entrance, imagining Ubbe would follow her.

The situation with all the other brothers was compromised now, in a way or the other. The only one she could consider a friend truly was Ubbe. And she didn’t like the idea that some kind of tension could arise between them too.

“So?” Angrboda turned suddenly towards him, raising her green eyes and proud chin.

She didn’t need to feel his aura to know that he had everyone best interests in mind. She knew he acted out of care and that his concerns were dictated by his honest heart – to be honest, he wasn’t even so wrong having certain doubts.

She knew and accepted it. Yet, she didn’t like the idea of having to justify her decisions.

“So, what’s going on?”

“What do you want to know, specifically.”

“Well, first of all – we didn’t expect you to disappear.”

“I didn’t. I was just at the cabin, helping my father with the ships.”

“You weren’t here. Not even once you visited.”

“I could say the same for you, but I’m not accusing anybody, am I?” Angrboda bit her tongue and forced her words to slow down, releasing her frustration in a sigh, instead of more, unnecessary venom.

“You just left. You left my brother on his own waiting for us to go and pick him up.” Ubbe’s blue eyes seemed to catch fire. Again, she didn’t need to feel his annoyance to know he clearly didn’t approve of her move.

And she agreed.

But waking up that morning and having to separate from Ivar to go back to their regular lives and to who they were before was painful enough. And every second she spent in that hut with sudden frost falling between Ivar and her was agony. It broke her heart and sunk her in melancholy. Every second made her wish to crawl back into bed with Ivar just to be skin to skin with him and see his true self.

“I left. I left him. I know.”

All her thoughts were supposed to become words. Then maybe, they would have been a good enough explanation, something Ubbe would have appreciated. But they didn’t leave her lips.

Though as she lowered her eyes the sudden spike of pain and melancholy that hit her was clear.

Even if she was not proud of it and she wished to hide it away, feeling too protective of her feelings towards Ivar to show them to anyone, she did raise her eyes letting Ubbe see her face. Hoping he would get a glimpse of what she felt.

Ubbe looked at her for a long couple of seconds and then, his icy blue eyes seem to become calmer.

He sighed and then moved towards her.

Angrboda felt his aura welcome and absorb the pain she showed to a degree she wasn’t even aware of. And she felt his emotions crack and move. His concern shifted towards her.

Ubbe moved, raising a hand to her face and scooped her cheek up into his palm, giving her a meaningful look. “What is going on, Angrboda? You have to tell me. I don’t understand. I’m trying- I tried.”

Angrboda just rested against his hold and reacted just with a sigh of relief while Ubbe quickly kept talking.

“Ivar won’t talk about what happened between you two. Not even to praise it. Which is weird, we all know him. And I thought you cared for Hvitserk. I know you two had some kind of unresolved business, but, I always thought-”

“I care.” Angrboda's eyes sparkled with sudden decision. “You know I care.”

“I don’t know anymore. Then why? If you care-”

“Because I care for Ivar too. And me and Hvitserk- We cannot happen. Don’t question me, just trust me on this one.”

“He loves you. You know that, yes?”

Angrboda lowered her eyes once more and this time, she looked for distance from Ubbe. She moved away, crossing her arms to her chest, more in a hug to her own figure than a defensive position. “Of course, I know.”

“You owe him an explanation.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Why do I feel like I don’t know you at all, lately?”

Angrboda turned over to him, shaking her head. Her eyes burned with all the emotions she wasn’t allowed to speak of – yet were there. Always. “Knowing. Feeling Hvitserk’s love rips me off from the inside. More than his pain. Don’t lecture me about what I have to do because I very well know what I should do – and what I’m allowed to do. Which are two different things. I cannot speak of everything that is happening, Ubbe. But I have my reasons and Hvitserk is better off without me.”

As soon as she started hinting about those things she wasn’t allowed to speak about, Angrboda felt her throat tingle in an increasingly more nagging ailment, but she pushed her words, mixed with her decision and anger, through vehemently.

She wanted Ubbe to understand that her situation wasn’t so easily judged as it appeared. As himself was quick to jump to the wrong conclusions.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed.

“Yes, well- And the truth about Ivar is simple: he asked me to lay with him, because he wanted to be with a woman, to be like all of you guys. I felt honoured to do so. And I thought it would break Hvitserk’s heart enough to finally separate us. Simple as that. Ivar knows my reasons and knows his own reasons-" she looked at Ubbe, glaring into his blue eyes. Truth sparkled through her irises. "-what happened throughout the night it’s no one else’s business. But you need to understand, I care for Ivar deeply. We used each other – and still care for one another. That’s all.”

“Is it so?”

“Yes.”

“Well. You definitely broke Hvitserk’s heart. But I’m not sure he will ever stop loving you.” Finally, the glimpse of a smile appeared on Ubbe’s lips and quickly spread through to Angrboda. She smirked back, knowing Ubbe was not joking or taking his words any less seriously, yet welcoming that break of tension.

Especially when she perfectly knew Ubbe spoke the truth.

How could it be any different? She was Hvitserk’s soulmate. And he hers. What they felt for each other would have never died. But that was ok, they just needed to quiet it down enough to be able to ignore it.

“Now, I’ve been meaning to ask how you are, but you are particularly elusive – and I cannot even say I’m surprised about it. Be it on purpose or not, I’m glad you are here.”

“I am ok, thank you. As much as I can be. And I am happy to be here too. How are you?”

“I’m good. It’s been difficult, lately, trying to keep everyone at peace.”

“Why?”

Ubbe took a deep breath and looked away. A sudden wave of awkwardness surrounded him and it seemed clear he didn’t want to have that conversation.

“Ubbe.” Angrboda called him back, moving to bring his eyes back, focusing on her. “What happened?”

“The tension between Sigurd and Ivar is getting heavier and heavier by the day. They cannot be left in the same room or they will bite each other heads off.”

“Oh-”

“And-” Ubbe paused and then released a deep huff looking away once more if his emotions weren’t clear enough, his distress was noticeable enough by the stiffness of his neck and shoulders.

“Ubbe?”

“There’s been rumours going around, lately. People are talking, a lot – and it doesn’t help anyone.”

“I’ve been out of town. What are they saying then?”

“It got worse, Angrboda. All the chattering about you and your character and involvement with us. It got worse. People think you’re up to no-good now more than ever. In fact, I think it will be better if you sit around us later.”

Angrboda shook her head and shrugged, scoffing a laugh. “Don’t you think that would make it worse, actually?”

“Yes. And no, because we can keep an eye out for you. Me and Hvitserk, that is, of course. So, I don’t care what they think but I rather have you safe.”

“I don’t need guards, Ubbe. I am fine.”

“Yes, I think you do. Listen to me and swallow your pride for once. Either be with us or stay next to your father – but keep your eyes open.”

“Do you think people would actually-”

“I think you stand in a dangerous position. Especially tonight. You will leave tomorrow – and you will have your chance to prove your worth, I am sure. But for now, people do not respect you enough.”

Angrboda frowned and felt suddenly dizzy, not entirely able to understand the degree Ubbe’s words had.

She knew people didn’t like her. And she knew sometimes she wasn’t safe to be on her own. But to a public event, so celebrative like a feast. Not being safe then meant that public opinion really got worse and worse.

Why she didn’t feel anything about it? Why the whispers didn’t suggest anything to her ear?

Did the Gods send Ubbe to talk to her specifically?

“And there’s more-”

“What else?”

“Voice got out – of your relationship with Hvitserk. And with Ivar. It’s- I don’t know how – but it’s now out there, and it’s backlashing on you. People are more convinced than ever you’re manipulating us.”

“Oh-oh, no. How did it happen?! No one knew! But a few-”

“If I have to take a wild guess…” Ubbe sent her a meaningful look and Angrboda didn’t need him to say anything to understand clearly where his thoughts went.

Sigurd.

Why was he on such a strong crusade against her?

She knew he didn’t like her but to get to such a point?

“I know these rumours are stupid – most of us know. But there’s not much we can do and you weren’t around to vouch for yourself. It got out of hand.”

“You should have said something sooner! You-”

“What could we have done? I think it was actually better that you stayed away. I think it would have become unbearable if you were around. Some people with still a crumb of brain in their heads actually noticed your absence, and that’s why some do recognise the rumours as nothing more.”

“Why do I feel like there’s something more?”

“Because there is-”

Angrboda just waited – thinking that if she had to digest her feelings, and come to terms with the idea she could get lynched any second now, might as well be hit by whatever else lurked for her.

“I will say it now and I will say it once, ok? I expect you to behave, after what I have to say. I want you to keep it quiet, and if you have to sort any situation, do it privately. Not because I wouldn’t back you up – but because this evening is important to us. There are Kings and emissaries at the Hall, we cannot-”

“Yes, I understand, stop patronizing me. What else has happened?”

“If you do care for Ivar, as you said, then you should speak to him.”

“Why? What’s wrong with Ivar?”

Ubbe sighed. He felt so uncomfortable with the idea of talking forward, that the feeling crawled under her skin so deeply to give her a shiver.

Angrboda could almost feel how many times he bit his tongue before explaining.

“Just speak to him, later on.”

The feast proceeded between music, ale, food and laughter.

Every guest seemed to be enjoying their time and throughout the night both people from Tamdrup and Kattegat mixed together as one in loud chattering and general celebration.

Even Angrboda, despite everything, managed to have some fun.

She did as Ubbe suggested: she swallowed her pride and occupied a seat next to him and Hvitserk, accepting their protection.

In the beginning, the whole situation felt awkward and she felt extremely uncomfortable under her own skin. Especially sitting next to Hvitserk.

For obvious reasons, it felt like a heavy winter fell between them – but with Ubbe’s help and some ale aid, soon Hvitserk’s spirit melted enough to push their awkward sorrows aside. And they had fun, cracking jokes and exchanging stories, people watching, even dancing at some point.

It was nice. She actually managed to forget who she was, deceiving herself to an apparent fraction of reality as a normal person.

Angrboda did her best to ignore Sigurd’s presence or every emotion coming from his aura. Even if it was hard.

But she wouldn’t have left her safe spot between the two older brothers, just because Sigurd made the air uneasy and difficult to breathe in. Mostly, she didn’t accept the idea to let him think he won something.

She couldn’t understand why he kept fighting as much as he was doing, stuffing all his anger, all his hate in the wrong things.

Actually, she could. She knew exactly why he felt that way, but deeply disapproved. It was getting worse, and it was jeopardizing her. It wasn’t a hateful joke or venomous words, it wasn’t receiving a push or just a bit of bullying, it was endangering and hurting people.

And Kattegat was her home. One day, she would come back to it, hopefully with glory on her shoulders, enough so people would forget she was a witch. But if her situation got as much out of hand as Ubbe said, then Sigurd is to hold responsible for making her life ten times harder now.

Kattegat was her home, but would it accept her?

It wasn’t fair.

Angrboda did a very good job in pushing those thoughts aside and pulling a brave face, though.

Throughout the night, she kept as far away as possible from Floki, not intentioned in worrying her father furthermore. She decided he and Helga were entitled to have a night of fun.

But there was someone else she didn’t dare to step close to. Ivar.

He sat at the head of the main table and observed everything and everyone. Every now and then, Angrboda looked over, just to follow his stirred seas eyes around the room to see what he was watching.

She felt his mind moving, his brain absorbing, she knew he was studying everyone. Especially the most important people in the room, besides the Queen’s family and Bjorn and his wife Torvi, those were King Harald and his brother Halfdan the Black.

If Ivar’s aura wasn’t strongly connected to hers enough to stroke it constantly even from such a distance, she just needed to look at him to spot the dark shadow surrounding his aura, shaping and shifting around Ivar at every thought and change of emotion.

Their eyes crossed a few times, and every time she felt Ivar’s emotions spiked in such despite and deep offence.

Ubbe did warn her and he definitely wasn’t wrong. Something happened and she needed to talk to Ivar. Especially knowing she needed to leave him so soon, and for good.

No way she would have let those be the last feelings he felt for her.

Not after what they had. Not when the absolute devotion and love he had for her the night they shared still burned into her mind and chest.

The only reason why Angrboda had yet to approach the younger Ragnarsson was because of his mother.

Aslaug sat next to him and spent the night chatting away with his son, behaving more like a guardian than anything else.

If Aslaug always had affection and respect for Angrboda throughout the years, now those feelings were definitely gone. And Angrboda could not say she wouldn’t understand after the rumours about her came out.

She knew that Aslaug would have never judged her regarding being gifted, being a gifted woman herself. But she knew she would have definitely judged her harshly for sleeping with two of her sons, especially when one of them was Ivar.

She just wished she had more time to solve all the misunderstandings that had been dawning upon her, at least with people that were the closest to her.

But she didn’t.

And then finally, the right moment she has been waiting for presented itself.

As soon as Aslaug left her seat, Angrboda knew it was her chance.

She sent a look over to the head of the table, finding Ivar waiting for her eyes.

He widened his shoulders and raised his head proudly. His eyes sparkled crossing hers and his lips arched in a grim smirk.

His expression gave her a shiver. There was something in his way of always being a step ahead of everyone. And of course, he knew already she wouldn’t have ignored him. It was clear he was expecting her to do the first move and didn’t have any intention to chase her.

Angrboda moved slightly towards Ubbe. Just placing a hand on his shoulder, she called his attention but didn’t say a word before getting up.

There was not much to be explained anyway, but she thought to give him heads-up, so then he could happily keep an eye out for her, as he felt comfortable doing the whole evening.

She exchanged a brief look with Hvitserk before moving away.

As she did for most of the evening - and with most of the people surrounding her – Angrboda did her best to push his aura away from her, much preferring not to be influenced and overwhelmed by everything Hvitserk felt at all times. Especially for her, especially if it was to see her leaving his side to reach for Ivar's.

She walked slowly, not to attract particular attention to herself. Ivar’s eyes accompanied her the whole way, with his confident smirk carving deeper and deeper into his expression.

The closer she got, the more his darkness seemed to react to her. She felt his shadows move and mix to hers both from the inside and out, accompanied by the sparkles of the fairies that surrounded everyone that evening.

“I need to talk to you.” She announced finally, once she stood in front of him.

Ivar lifted his head and leaned comfortably against the back of the chair, offering her a smart smile. Just after a second of studying her image, caressing her figure from head to toe with his grey eyes, Ivar finally nodded towards her. “Be my guest, Loki-Kissed.”

Angrboda felt a shiver crossing her back hearing her given name rolling on his tongue.

She breathed in his emotions, feeling his bitterness towards her, but also the disappointment, frustration and pain that hid underneath his cockiness. There was a great deal of pride and a hint of anger hiding his cracked heart.

Angrboda shrugged, shaking her head. “Privately, if you may.”

“No. I may not. You can tell me anything you want right here, no?” Ivar accompanied his words widening his arms, clearly hinting to the crowded room that surrounded him.

The fact that he was so stubborn and proudly playing hard to catch was enough to fill Angrboda with enough frustration to make her grumble, raising her eyes to the ceiling. She even had to tone her reaction down, remembering Ubbe’s words.

“Ivar.”

“Yes, Angrboda?” Ivar’s eyes sparkled. He was clearly feeding off his ego, annoying her, and she just needed to know him to know it. Her empathic abilities were unnecessary when it came to understanding Ivar.

She knew she didn’t have much time, as much as she knew that Ivar’s curiosity would have given her what she wanted, sooner or later.

Of course, she rathered sooner.

“Please? I really do need to talk to you.”

“Now? Now, you want to talk? You picked an inconvenient situation, you see? Unfortunately, I’m enjoying the feast and I rather assist to the happenings around me. Especially when my mother just went to welcome the arrival of none other but Lagertha. Actually, you could be useful to me. Why don’t you syntonise on them and tell me what they are feeling? Especially Lagertha, I am curious.”

Angrboda raised her eyes to the ceiling once more. This time, she remained in that position for a few seconds, pushing her eager anger down and trying to focus to stay calm.

She didn’t know Lagertha would attend the feast but should have expected it since her son Bjorn was the one leading the expedition.

Part of her wanted to meet her – as much as she wanted to meet King Harald and his brother. Just to know all the important people roaming the Hall. But Angrboda had priorities at the moment and Lagertha could have come later.

Angrboda gazed back at Ivar. Besides his words, he didn’t seem much interested in what was going on between his mother and Lagertha, since he didn’t take his eyes off her once. Which was a strong hint of how much attention he was still giving her, even if he was as stubborn as a mule.

Angrboda moved closer to him, her eyes met his, burning with the same degree of determination. “Right. We need to talk, so feel free to follow me. I will be waiting for a short amount of time. If you won’t, then whatever is your problem with me then it will be on you, don’t hold me responsible for whatever reason you’re being an asshole.”

Angrboda felt the shot of anger spike through his aura and hit inside her chest – and ignored it completely.

In that specific case, anger was good. Anger would have got Ivar to move. He would have never missed an occasion when challenged.

Which was the reason why, while she moved turning around the table, a tiny smile of victory appeared on her lips.

Angrboda didn’t look back to check if Ivar was actually following her, she walked towards the back of the Hall, to the private quarters where the Queen’s room could be found.

Once she left the main room filled with music, loud chattering and the dense smell of ale, food and people, Angrboda took a deep breath, filling her lungs up with the energy of that way quieter and darker place.

She stood in the middle of the room, with her arms crossed to her chest and her back to the door.

If Ivar followed her, she actually didn’t mind being a bit dramatic, just imitating his ways and giving him back a bit of what he deserves after his little scene at the table.

And if he decided not to follow her, then at least she wouldn’t have waited desperately looking at the door and hoping in vain, keeping a bit of dignity. Plus an unwanted, not required broken heart.

After a few moments though, she heard the familiar heavy dragging noise of Ivar crawling on the floor.

Angrboda could not deny the relief that completely surrounded her and actually welcomed it with a smile, that she made sure to hide though. She had absolutely no intention to give Ivar any satisfaction whatsoever.

She didn’t know what happened and why he felt the way he did. But absolutely hated the idea that despite growing years of friendship – let alone all the rest - he could turn against her like that. Angrboda wanted a confrontation to understand what happened but wasn’t about to go at it peacefully.

Pushing her expression into a serious mask, Angrboda turned over, gazing over towards Ivar.

His eyes sparkled in the darker room, lit just by the flicker of a few candles.

“What is going on?” She finally asked after a few seconds of them just proudly looking at each other.

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Get out my head.” Ivar shook his hand mid-air, as if he could flap her empathy away.

Not that she needed her abilities to understand how differently Ivar was behaving with her now, compared to the last time.

Angrboda huffed, letting her arms fall along her sides. “Sorry, can’t control it.”

Ivar just slid his eyes across the room, clearly annoyed and then moved, looking for a place to take a sit and gain some higher ground from where to have that conversation.

He climbed his way up a solid wood trunk and found a sit. Angrboda gave him time, and just when he turned overcrossing her eyes, she took a step closer. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I said nothing. We went back to our regular lives. Wasn’t that the plan?”

His words hit her like thin, sharp blades.

“This is not our regular life. You never looked at me the way you do now.”

“How am I supposed to look at you?”

“At least like a friend, not like someone you would happily move out your way.”

“I’m not the boy you knew anymore.”

Another deep stab right through her chest.

The boy she knew and the man she knew he would become were wearing the same skin, having the same strength, the same determination and brilliant mind – and the same darkness, but also the same promise of sweetness to them.

She saw it. She felt it. The boy who let her slip through the cracks and see his fragile, loving side, would be the same man who would let her in in future times.

She knew he was just using his usual tactic of being extremely unpleasant to push people away.

“You wanted this-" he spat moving his hands mid-air, "-you wanted us to go back to what we were, what we had always been. Which is nothing – so, why do you want to be friends all of a sudden?”

“We were friends!”

“How much will it matter when you will leave, tomorrow?”

“Is that it?! Are you angry at me because I’m leaving?”

“Well, I didn’t even know you would. If we were such good friends, what a piece of information to keep tucked away, huh? I found out through Hvitserk.”

“My father was building Bjorn’s ships. I thought-”

“It would be obvious? Well, I would have still appreciated it if you told me. But, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. You’re leaving, I am leaving soon too, and maybe we won’t ever see each other again, so what does it matter if we are friends?”

Angrboda was ready to whip a salty answer. With her annoyance, her anger was waking up, and with her anger, her darkness was always next to start stretching and to grow seeping through her.

But Ivar’s words distracted her – more than the core of their argument. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes. I am leaving. With my father. To go to England.” Ivar tipped his head on the side and offered a cold, proud smile.

For a moment, Angrboda forgot their quarrel, which seemed stupid compared to the fact he was going to embrace his Viking inheritance and leave for the adventure.

It was something great, something Ivar trained for his entire life, even if people always doubt he would be able to do so.

Angrboda moved closer and offered him an honest smile that Ivar didn’t seem ready for, to which he reacted freezing and trying to find a bit of distance from her.

“I am glad you’re going. It’s good news!”

“Don’t do that.” Ivar broke their eye contact, looking away. His face froze into a serious, almost disgusted face.

Inside her chest, Angrboda felt his heartbeat at the same rhythm of his pride, a pulsating wave that resonated into his aura, growing darker and darker by the second.

“Do what?”

“Patronize and cuddle me. Do not treat me as a kid. Did any other man got praised for being called to raid?”

“Ivar, I –”

“You what?!” Ivar shot her a look, his stirred seas eyes burned through her, to the point Angrboda felt pushed to take a step back.

“Why are you being like this? Why are you fighting me?”

“You are truly something, aren’t you? Maybe the people are right. Maybe Sigurd is right, you’re so good at manipulating all of us with your pretty face that we never realised how slimy you can be.”

“Hold on. What did you just say?”

Ivar’s poisonous words hit her but her pain quickly burned, shaping itself into anger. Angrboda felt the familiar buzzing of her darkness waking and growing inside of her, like smoke filling the air.

“You heard me well.”

“I wished you could hear yourself.”

“No, I wish you could hear yourself! You’re so full of yourself and truly a hypocrite. So good at lying you fooled even me. But I see it now.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“The way you talk to me. The way you look at me. Everything you do. You’re like anyone else. Like my mother. Acting out of pity.”

“Pity?!” Angrboda spitted that word like it was venom, frowning and reserving an intense look to Ivar. Not realising her eyes were turning darker now.

The more he spoke, the more he hurt her. And the more Angrboda was hurt, the more her darkness would grow.

“I bet that is why you wanted to talk to me before you would leave. Poor, little Ivar left all alone. I bet it is also why you actually went all the way with me that night – because of pity. Poor me, huh? You must have thought it would have been my only chance with a woman. Damn, you acted so well you fooled me.” Ivar started clapping his hands, as if there was actually something to praise, but the rain of his toxic words didn’t stop there. “-And I bet that’s why you hid up in the forest – could not stand the sight of me. Must be tough.”

At every sentence, Angrboda became visibly less and less stable and it seemed like the more she shook and stiffened to his words, the more he felt entitled to continue. And a bigger, darker smile would grow on his lips.

But when Ivar touched the matter of them being together, that particularly set her off.

She really wanted to find a way to answer to him calmly, having the upper hand. She would have been able to do so if the matter wouldn’t have touched something she considered so personal.

The night she shared with Ivar changed her, and everything around her. And maybe she wasn’t ready to accept how deeply connected she was to him and how deeply she cared. But she did. It was a precious moment that she would have never diminished but praised upon.

Angrboda moved quickly towards him and broke his words from piling up any further with an abrupt slap on the face.

She trained hard to contain similar situations where her emotions would take over. But it seemed impossible to bite her tongue or breathe through Ivar’s assumptions. “Shut your mouth. You’re just a boy if you think so little of me. And worse, if after everything and all the years we’ve known each other, you are so easily influenced. I never felt pity for you. I respect you, and my affection towards you is dictated by heart, not guilt.”

Ivar was quick to gaze back at her, moving his torso and head closer to her, ready for a fight. “I don’t believe you.”

“That is entirely on you-” Angrboda pointed a finger to Ivar's chest, giving him a push. “-and I wasn’t lying when we had sex. Everything I felt, everything you felt, was real to me. So, I will never regret it. But you can choose your own truth.”

Ivar just sat there silent.

Angrboda saw and felt his emotions tremble and crack. She felt his disappointment and pain pour out of his chest, surrounded by guilt, pride, and anger.

Even if she had all the answers she needed in front of her, and knew Ivar so well even without having to read him, she decided to ignore the knowledge of Ivar's immense fragility on some of his biggest triggers. For example, the idea that people loved him just for pity and not for worth. Because Angrboda could be proud too and she thought he crossed a line in a way that was not acceptable.

He chose to doubt her, to believe what other people said. He chose to become like any other.

And besides hurting her, he was hurting himself.

She would have been inclined to forgive and forget anything to Ivar, but not something like that.

She felt the need to hurt others and break things just to deal with the anger that the idea of someone she considered as highly of, and as close as Ivar, could just so easily doubt her.

If she had something between her hands, she would have definitely thrown it with the sole purpose to see an object shutter in a million pieces.

But she didn’t want to hurt Ivar. The slap she gave him felt more than enough.

So, with all her anger and pride, Angrboda took off.

She turned on her feet and quickly charged to reach the door, intentioned to put as much distance from her and Ivar as she could.

Tomorrow it wouldn’t have been a problem: as he said, there was the possibility they won’t see each other again. And for a second, it sounded like such a good thing.

Even if everything, inside of her, was revolting to the sole idea that could have been their last conversation. Their last moment.

Maybe her vision lied.

Maybe it was just the inebriating moment she shared with Ivar that got so much to her brain to make her fantasise too much.

Maybe it wasn’t even a vision.

And who is her to understand perfectly something like that? Could she even be sure of what she saw?

Maybe it was all wrong. Even the Seer, and her destiny. Maybe, she wasn’t bound to be by Ivar’s side.

Her heart trembled under pressure just by the idea she was now rejecting something she always believed to be her fate. And that took a more realistic shape in her mind after she had her vision, laying between his arms, and after she felt their darknesses melt and tie.

Even now, the shadows inside of her were frizzling and agitating, like arguing with her for her own emotions and thoughts.

Angrboda stopped.

All her thoughts and emotions went quiet.

And she held her breath for a second. “Maybe, you are the one who should stop feeling pity for himself.”

She didn’t look back and denied feeling his aura, even if it was impossible. She clearly felt Ivar’s heart breaking inside her own chest.

Angrboda stepped out, running away from him and her own feelings – deluding herself that she could actually do so if she quickly put enough distance between herself and the whole situation.

She slid through the crowded Hall, being already unsteady made it easy for the sudden cacophony of people, voices and emotions to overwhelm her.

She needed air.

She needed quiet.

And to be alone. From everyone.

She didn’t stop on her way, not even when Ubbe and Hvitserk’s auras caressed her with their sudden worries. Actually, she probably moved even quicker, praying to the Gods that the brothers wouldn’t have followed her.

Once outside the Great Hall, Angrboda quickly turned around the building, following its longer side until she found a safe spot to hide.

Angrboda flattened herself on a wooden panel between one of the mid alcoves of the structure, feeling nested between the wooden columns and shielded enough to let out a deep breath.

She pressed her forehead against the redwood, taking a long and deep breath in, trying to work on her breathing to calm down and gather her thoughts.

Losing control meant she became sole emotions… And sometimes that wasn’t the right thing.

Angrboda pushed her hands against the wood, trying to find peace in the quiet solitude that surrounded her. People and sounds felt so far away. It was blissful to breathe some fresh night air in.

But her frustration wasn’t so easy to tame, which was why Angrboda let it out, punching the wall she was leaning on, letting a grunt out.

Even if she wanted to suppress it all, she had to admit that a little spillage of emotion made her feel a bit better.

“Look. A birdy got lost.”

Her peace was suddenly broken by a deep, rude voice accompanied by a group of men laughing viciously.

Even their auras carried the fuzziness brought by drinking too much ale, so much so she could almost taste it in their unstable emotions. Worse, was that she felt their energies slimily slid across her skin, leaving her with a weird aftertaste of being cut by rusty metal. She suddenly felt threatened.

But the group of men surrounded her and moved closer.

“Let us see your face, pretty birdy.” The same one who spoke first spoke again, and Angrboda presumed he was also the one who dawned upon her and grabbed her figure by the shoulders giving her a vigorous and rude shake, before pulling her to turn.

He proudly showed Angrboda to the rest of the group breaking into another slimy laugh.

The longer his hands were on her, the more Angrboda felt her being shake and vibrate by the need to run.

She tried to shake off his hands and growled at him, showing her teeth off. It was probably just because the man's mind was polluted by the ale, that she managed to catch him off guard and slip away. But she didn’t go far.

Another of his mates was quicker and she was grabbed again. The man welcomed her with a laugh, and shook her, pulling her to turn her once again towards the group. He pulled her closer to his chest grabbing her by the hair, to which Angrboda answered with another growl. Then, he ensured she wouldn’t run again clutching rudely his heavy, dirty hand around her neck and squeezing.

Angrboda snarled firstly trying to look at him and then, at the others. “Let me go, pigs!”

“Gods! It’s Loki-Kissed! It’s the witch!”

Angrboda expected them to react like people generally did, with disgust and slight fear being that close to her. But not this time, not these men.

These men laughed.

Angrboda felt their evil intention sip through. She saw their thirst for pain and blood – hers. And she felt their eagerness into getting recognized and glorified for freeing their people of her.

She tried to shake off the hold of the faceless man that held her.

“She definitely has fire inside of her.”

“Be careful, it can burn you.”

Another one laughed.

It was four men in total, around her. They smelled of ale and sweat. Their dirty clothes and shabby image placed them into Kattegat working class – they were probably men who sailed with Ragnar Lothbrok when they were younger and would definitely sail with Bjorn Ironside to find either glory or death.

She wondered if they were guests of the Hall, for a second.

Thinking about the Hall, she immediately wondered if someone noticed her absence – she hated the idea of relying on someone else’s help. But at the same time, she wasn’t sure how high her possibilities could be.

Angrboda was armed but kept her dagger tucked away tied to her ankle, which seemed difficult enough to grab.

What about her abilities? Could she rely on them truly?

Angrboda thought of giving it a shot.

She quickly moved her head backwards, throwing a header right to the face of the man holding her. As soon as he lost a second of balance and focus, she swiftly slipped away from his hold, giving him a push.

Angrboda curled up on herself just to reach for her dagger, which she showed off. Her body tensed in a combat position. “I can show you how much I can burn.” Angrboda's eyes shone and flickered of darkness.

She was ready to fight.

“We should kill her.” The man that was holding her earlier breathed heavily those words, while another moved closer, attracting Angrboda attention.

The group of men moved around her, sending each other looks to decide how to attack her.

But Angrboda had the upper hand to feel their emotions – even if they were disgusting.

More than their thirst for violence was the slight arousal that developed in some of their auras, making her insides twist violently.

Angrboda quickly turned around, making sure she looked at all the men around her, keeping her dagger blade well ready to slash flesh.

Angrboda showed a sly smile, her eyes shined again and she fed off the shivers her black gaze gave to the men around her. “You think I am so easy to kill off? Then get closer, maybe I will send a few of you to Hel, she will feast on your unworthy hearts.”

“People are right, she is a monster. Look at her.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t just kill her. Maybe we should hurt her too.”

“Monster or not, she is still just a woman and we should do what men do. I like her.”

“You can have her.”

Angrboda showed her teeth once more, growling at them. She hated to be talked about like she was a piece of meat, especially when she stood in front of her.

But feeling their hesitation, adrenaline and fear filled her with determination and hope. And power. The more scared they would become, the more she felt her thirst grow. “If you touch me there will be consequences. You will regret the day you were born!”

Angrboda kept slowly moving into a circle, thinking she had control. Thinking those men wouldn’t have dared to actually hurt her.

“No one would avenge you, witch. Your spells will die with you.”

“My father is Floki the Boat-builder! He will skin you alive.”

She thought she had control for too long.

As soon as she gave her back to someone to threatening look at someone else, she would automatically become more vulnerable and those men didn’t take long to understand it.

She got tackled, this time by three men at once.

They all pushed her against the red-wood wall, rudely smacking her face against the panel.

The two on her sides held her arms up, and the one who stood on her right side grabbed her arm and firmly slammed it against the wood panel, so she would lose the hold on her dagger.

The man behind her back kicked her ankles, to push her legs apart.

It was then that Angrboda shook and tried to scream, but the man behind her back grabbed her, suffocating her voice with his heavy, callous hand.

The man pushed his face between her hair, inhaling her smell – and the sudden satisfaction that broke into his dirty aura made her retch.

If it had to end, she would have rathered die that feel that man free hand moving on her body and pulling her skirt.

Then a voice suddenly broke through the air. “What a shame.”

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waiting4inspiration · 2 years

Text

A Secret World IV: With the Dawn

Summary: As a way to start off your training with Hvitserk, you take him out early in the morning to show him the sunrise and to tell him one important rule.

Warnings: strong language, fluff, mentions of raiding, mentions of murder, mentions of stealing, dragons, dragon rider au

Word Count: 2,029

A Secret World Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist

You wake Hvitserk up early in the morning, before sunrise, with another cup of the sweet smelling, ale-like liquid. Then, you made him follow you through the quiet city where he had seen a few hatching Dragons still sleeping on top of barrels or on top of perches on the roofing of the houses you two passed.

The sky is still dark so he is not able to see if are were any bigger Dragons flying around. But he doesn’t think they are. It’s all too quiet and there’s not even a sound of wings flapping above his head. There aren’t even roars in the distance. It’s just like an early morning in Kattegat.

At that thought - as you continue to lead Hvitserk out of the city just as you did when you took him to see Gudrun - he thinks about what could be happening to his home. He wonders who is running it now, if any of his brothers had, by some miracle, survived and taken back what belongs to his family. He wonders if the city is still burning…

After a while, he notices that you’re once again leading him into the wilderness, away from the city built into the stone of a mountain. But it’s not in the direction of the Dragon’s Mountain, that which Gudrun lives on. In fact, when he looks over his shoulder, in the distance illuminated by the light of the slowly rising sun, he sees that exact mountain. You’re leading him in the opposite direction.

He understands why you had woken him up so early. Because the journey takes a while and he realises that there’s an ache in his legs when you finally come to a stop in front of a towering pillar of rocks.

“Can you climb?” you ask, looking at him after staring up at the pillar for a moment. You hand him a waterskin and he doesn’t have to ask what’s in it because it seems that all you’ve been giving him to drink is that water from the stream in the room that’s become his for his stay.

Looking up at the pillar, he takes in a deep breath to calm his heart that skips a beat when he sees how high up it goes. “I can try,” he finally says, turning his gaze to look at you again.

You chuckle to yourself and reach for the coil of rope tied to your belt. “Wait here. I’ll drop this down for you when I get up there. We don’t need you falling to your death so soon,” you lightly say with a teasing smile on your face that quells the anxious feeling in his chest.

Hvitserk watches you starting to climb the pillar as if it’s like walking. Your feet find ledges to stand on without even slipping slightly. They don’t even knock off small pebbles or dust. He tries to remember all of your steps, trying to remember where he needs to step when he eventually climbs up this strong pillar. But he can’t help but be mesmerised by your skill.

He wonders how many times you’ve done this.

Thinking about why you might have brought him here, he wonders if this is his first lesson. He doesn’t have much time to learn everything. The month your mother had given him can go by in the blink of an eye.

What would happen if he fails? What would they do to him? What would your father, the king, do?

Realising that your father is a king, that would make you a princess. And that thought makes him smile as he turns his gaze back up to you to see how far you’ve gotten.

Of all the princesses and ladies of stature he has met, you are definitely different. You act more like a shieldmaiden. But then again, he doesn’t think you focus on training to fight. He’s not sure what you act like, but he knows that he enjoys this nature.

It’s exciting to him. When he watches you, he thinks of doing these things beside you. Maybe even fighting to see who would beat the other to the top of this pillar. He thinks of sneaking out of the city in the early mornings as you did now, ready to explore more of this land. He would let you lead him anywhere, show you new sights and teach him things no one in his world would ever know.

And if things go the way he thinks it will go, perhaps you will teach him how to ride a Dragon. Then he can soar through the skies with you…

The rope drops down in front of him, breaking him out of his thoughts and he steps back in surprise, peering up to see you’ve finally reached the top. “Come on. Before you miss what I want to show you.”

He smiles, running his tongue over his lips as he almost jumps to wrap the rope around his torso to start climbing.

You made this look easy when you went, but for Hvitserk, he has to look down every time he moves his feet to make sure his footing is sure before finding another gripping place for his hands. He has some comfort to know that you’re constantly keeping an eye on him, making sure he doesn’t fall by giving him advice as to what stones to avoid and where to place his foot next.

And when his hand finally reaches the flat top surface, you help pull him up until he sits firmly beside you, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. “I know. It’s quite a challenge the first time,” you chuckle, relaxing beside him and placing your feet flat in front of you so your knees are bent and you can wrap your arms around them.

Hvitserk stares at you for a moment as you look out in front of you, happy to just be up here in one piece. Then, he turns his gaze out to see the sight you’ve made him climb up here to see. It’s enough to kickstart his heart again.

The Dragon Mountain hides the sun, making it seem like it’s glowing with fire. There are no silhouettes of Dragons flying around it like they would during the day and the mountain casts a shadow over the fortress you and Hvitserk had come from. It’s only a matter of time before the sun peeks over the mountain top to start the new day.

“I think everyone needs to see this sunrise at least once. I come here almost every morning for it,” you whisper, blinking at the sight as you breathe out a long, satisfied sigh.

It’s quiet for a moment, not even a breath on the wind as you and Hvitserk stare out at the Dragon’s Mountain in the distance, watching as the light creeps around the sides of the summit. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off the mountain, fearing that he’ll miss what you’ve brought him here to see. But he wants to see the look on your face when the sun rises. He wants to see what your features look like in the light of a new day.

It happened slowly, then quickly all of a sudden. When the sun finally peaked, a roar sounded in the heart of the mountain sending hundreds of black dragon silhouettes flying into the sky. It’s like a flock of birds have been scared and now scatter in different directions. Hvitserk takes note of how just like in the city, there are different sized Dragons on the mountain. Some are so small, he can barely even see them. Others are big, and he can make out their figure clearly.

He can tell as he watches them fly around each other, the way they don’t seem to fly like the ones in the city, soaring without a care, that these Dragons are the wild ones you’ve mentioned to him before. He wonders if your people have ever had issues with these wild creatures attacking the city. They must be dangerous even tamed. But he’s never seen any sign of past destruction burned on the walls of the stone-built city.

This sight is unlike any Hvitserk has ever seen. He had fallen in love with one sunrise in a distant land while on a raid with Bjorn. But this one has stolen his heart and he can understand why you would make this dreadful climb up here every morning for it.

He would do the same.

“If there’s one thing you must know about going forward and learning our ways, Hvitserk-” His head snaps to you at the sound of his name on your lips. As if his heart wasn’t already pounding in his chest. “It’s that these Dragons are to be shown the utmost respect at all times, no matter their size,” you mention, turning your own gaze away from the light rising over the mountains to him. “Even the smallest Dragon can kill you if they want to. They’ve been here long before we were here and they will most likely be here when we have all died. And just like us, they have their own possessions that some outsiders have tried to steal. It is why my father doesn’t trust anyone that comes beyond the Great River,” you explain, chuckling to yourself as you drop your eyes to your hands.

Hvitserk notices how when you run your hand over your thigh, you tremble slightly as if shuddering at a terrible memory. Then, you clear your throat and reach for the waterskin you had handed him a while ago to take a long sip from liquid inside.

“Promise me that you will not try and take what is not yours from them,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on the waterskin for a moment before slowly lifting your gaze up to him.

It’s as if your eyes peer deeply into his soul, seeing everything he has done before in his past and how much he has taken that had not belonged to him. Gold, jewels, cities, women, and lives.

He turns his gaze back to the mountain and lets out a deep sigh. “I want things to be different for me. Maybe it will bring me some kind of happiness if I forget the kind of things I’ve been taught,” he whispers back to you, feeling like he doesn’t want to break the peacefulness the sunrise has brought over this land without a war raging on inside of it.

You shift up closer to him, place a gentle hand on his forearm and hand him the waterskin, smiling that gentle smile when he looks back up at you. “Can you tell me?” you ask.

Hvitserk’s heart skips a beat when his fingers brush against yours as he takes the waterskin from you again.

“I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like beyond the River, but I’ve never reached the Far City, your home.”

He smiles, wondering if things would be like this if you had made it there and he had met you in the marketplace. Would he even have seen you? Would he have bothered to introduce himself to you? Would he even care the way he cares now?

“Kattegat,” he says, thinking it’s best to teach you the real name of his home instead of what you called it; the Far City.

You do want to learn from him, just as he wants to learn from you.

You repeat the name making goosebumps travel up Hvitserk’s arms as he smiles back at you. That smile doesn’t last long as he remembers the last he saw of it. His head drops between his shoulders. “You don’t want to know how things work in my world,” he starts, staring at the waterskin in his hands, remembering the last time he had a cup of ale with his brothers. “It’s nothing like how things work here.”

“Nothing out there works the way like how things work here,” you mention, crossing your legs under you, making the loose pebbles shift and grind under your feet. “It’s what makes everyone different.”

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