The Devil and The Snake

17. Being alive

The rest of the day was a blur. You knew you had won and that was it.

Ivar didn't talk to you at all after the battle. He partied with soldiers the rest of the day while you kept in your chamber. You heard they had kept a soldier from the Franks alive to question him about future battle. In the morning you went to meet him.

You could talk Frankish well, so it wasn't a problem to understand him. He looked no more than sixteen and had a nasty cut on his leg. He wouldn't survive an interrogation with your husband, you knew that just by looking at how scared he was.

"Will there be another attack?"

He would no answer at first, but you gave him water and food and he looked softened by it.

"I don't think so. Unless your father helps, I doubt it." You smiled at him and he shyly smiled back. 'Will you kill me?'

"Do you want us to kill you?" he shook his head, but he looked weirdly calm about the whole thing. "My husband probably will."

"oh..." he looked down and your heart broke for him.

"Do you have news about Wessex? I'd love to know if things have happened. I miss..."

"The queen is dead."

You froze. "My mother?" You bit your lips to stop yourself from crying. A silent tear escaped from your eye. You blinked to get rid of it. "Oh. I didn't know that."

"I'm sorry."

"Do you know..." you took a breath. "Do you know how she died?"

"I don't."

You left the tent. The kid died during the night. Probably from an infection, maybe from blood loss. It didn't matter, you couldn't have helped him anyway. You wondered if this dead was better that one at Ivar's hand. Probably it was.

--

Hvitserk visited you the third day after the battle.

"Are you okay?"

You spent most days looking out from your window. Trying to find life in your cold dead heart. There was no point in answering him.

"Ivar's worried about you."

"then why have I not seen him yet?" you turned to him. "He hasn't come in our room since the battle..."

"And you haven't left." He paused. "He feels guilty, I think."

"why would he?"

"You know why."

You looked at the ground, feeling tears filling your eyes.

"I still loved her; you know." He continued. "Even if she didn't love me, I cared." He took your hand in his and stroked your scarred hand. "I miss her."

You started crying and hugged Hvitserk. "Why did I do that?"

"You had no choice."

But you did. You knew you did, and he knew you did, and everyone did too.

"I did have a choice; I feel so guilty Hvitserk. I want to die."

He squeezed you harder. "don't say that (Y/N). I'll take care of you now, don't worry."

'My mother is dead.' He kissed your forehead and held you.

It was good to let it out for someone.

That night you managed to sleep. Hvitserk slept in the chair and you in the bed. It felt good to not be alone for once.

You ate in the morning and you talked during the day. You cried a little less everyday. The guilt didn't go away but, to know that no one had to be hurt for now was good.