The Nephilim & The Maiden

H e r (ᛗ𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦)

I sat, legs crossed and back against a stone wall as the great heathen army wasted no time making themselves home in York. I glanced up every so often and watched as men dragged the remaining Saxon women around the streets, either to where the new slaves quarters were or off to some place discrete to have their way with them. Others continued raided the many buildings of the town or helped build up our new fortress.

I still couldn't the events of earlier out of my mind. Of seeing Ivar mutilate that priest by pouring melted gold down his throat. It sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't help but notice his dark descent from the moment we set foot here in England. From him forcing me to watch as Aelle was blood eagled, to his request to personally blood eagle Ecbert, to killing his own brother and being completely void of any emotion about it, to the heinous acts of earlier. Had Ivar finally cracked or was this the beast I saw deep in him when I was his slave finally coming to the surface?

Whatever it was, it made me want to put more space between us, at least until I could figure out what exactly this is . . . so I don't end up at the end of Ivar's axe.

My fingers idly were drawing figures in the dirt when I heard footsteps approach me. I looked up quickly, my free hand shooting for the axe on my belt. Surprisingly, Florian stood over me, his hand offered out to me.

"What do you want?" I hissed, my hand dropping from my weapon and landing in my lap. I ignored his hand, still not wanting to move from my spot.

"Hmm," Florian huffed, recoiling his hand. He moved his sword out of the way before he rested his back against the stone wall and slid down next to me. He brought his legs up and rested his forearms on his knees. "You looked shaken earlier, inside the church. I wanted to make sure you're alright."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Why did he care? "I'm fine."

Florian nodded his head and then looked out into the street and watched the people bustle about. The longer he sat there next to me, the more annoyed and anxious I became. He knew Ivar and I were to be married and he was there when he killed Sigurd. Killing Florian would be easy for Ivar.

"You should leave, before Ivar sees you with me." I warned, glancing up at him with furrowed brows.

Florian chuckled as he looked down at me, cocking his eyebrow. "He does not scare me. And besides, I am looking out for the well being of his future wife." His last comment was dripping in sarcasm.

I no longer tried to hide my glare. "There is far more to Ivar than meets the eye. You should be scared of him."

"Ivar is a child!" He laughed. "He thinks because he is a son of Ragnar that he can rule over this great army and do whatever he wants but the truth is he is a child and-"

"And what?" Ivar asked in a sing song voice, coming up to us.

Even though there was space between Florian and I, I still pushed myself further away as I saw Ivar make brief eye contact with me. Butterflies erupted in my belly from his sly smile but that same smile also caused my palms to start to sweat with nerves.

Florian rolled his head dramatically in Ivar's direction. "And I don't think you should be the sole leader of this army."

"Oh," Ivar said, faking taking Florian's comment into consideration. "Well, you see I do not think I am the sole leader of the army. I, as well as my brothers, Ubbe and Hvitserk, are the leaders. We all agreed to take York. If you don't like what we are doing here then maybe you should have gone with Bjorn."

Florian scoffed. "I chose not to go with Bjorn because all he cares about is his fame. It seems to be a common thing among the sons of Ragnar. Maybe I should have gone with King Harold."