Petulant ✔︎

16

Erik didn't have a time-wasting long speech about how he achieved this. No, he went straight to cutting throats open. Some of Irvina's men begged to be spared, it did nothing to the King's heart as he gave the command. Soon there were only four people left to kill. Gunnar didn't want to look at the bodies. It was disgusting. And his sister's cries weren't helping. No, they only made him more desperate for silence.

He should've stayed up in the mountains. Soon they forced Halfdan awake. He sputtered as the cold water poured onto his face. But what Gunnar admired was that Halfdan didn't look at his hand. That must've hurt since his flesh was burned, no he looked at Irvina, his eyes searching all over her body. He groaned, pushing one of the men aside, clearly planning to go towards her, but a fist to his gut forced him to bent over. Halfdan gasped for air.

"Stop it, just stop!" His sister's scream echoed around them, and he grimaced. They forced Halfdan onto his knees, and Erik looked on with glee. How he hadn't noticed that sick expression before, he wasn't sure. His eyes connected with Hvitserk's across the room. The man that sassily delivered any topic was now looking at him fearfully.

Irvina sobbed even more as a sword was pushed under Halfdan's throat. Halfdan's look was still forceful. His eyes held Irvina's as he was a few feet away. His sister's face was bloody, and snot was running from her nose. The tears that were pouring out of her eyes made his heart clench.

"Please no," she begged. Halfdan's lips stretched into a smile, almost as if he was reassuring her. Gunnar turned to look at Erik. He couldn't watch his sister fall apart.

Suddenly the door banged open with force. The force forcing the weapons holding it close snapped. His eyes widened at the sight of Gorm standing there. Regal as always, his broad shoulders forcing the torn door more apart. A tall, lean man appeared behind him, his blue eyes glinting threateningly.

"The rescuers have arrived," the man said wittily. His hand moved so fast Gunnar could hardly see it, throwing the knife at the man holding Halfdan hostage.

Erik stood from the throne, banging his hands onto the armchairs. He commanded his men forward, but from the shadows behind him came another force. An axe was held at Erik's throat. "I wouldn't move if I were you!"

The man with swinging braid held Erik close. A wrong move and his sharp axe would slice his skin open. A broad bald man, almost as big as Gorm, stepped into the room. More men spilled into the room, holding their weapons ready to attack. Erik's men looked unsurely around the room, some throwing their weapons down.

Gorm stalked into the room, his eyes glinting dangerously. They devoured the man by Gunnar's side like a prey. His attacker, took a step back from him, nervously. Not that it stopped Gorm. He grabbed the man's wrist, flinging him into the wall behind them like a doll. Then he grabbed the side of his face and banged his head into the wall. It was such a force that the wood rattled underneath it. Gorm let the man go, and he slid down onto the floor. His temple bleeding, and his ear chopped. Gunnar looked up at Gorm in disgust. Did he really have to do that before him?

Gorm pulled him up by his arm, making him hiss as his knee straightened. He forcefully kissed him before everyone making him gasp. Gunnar pushed him back with an eye roll but still leaned into him gratefully.

"Alright then," it was once again that blued man that spoke. The bald bear-like man continued to Hvitserk and offered his hand. Hvitserk grabbed it with his good hand.

The bear-man checked it over, and Hvitserk hissed at him, "Watch it, Bjorn, there's an arrow in my hand." His voice was sarcastic, and Bjorn smirked at him. Such a difference from his frown. At the name Bjorn, his mind clicked. These were the Ragnarssons.

"Let me kill him." The blue-eyed man said, slowly advancing towards Erik. Now Erik looked ready to shit his pants. "No, Ivar!" His sister's voice was firm, and she pushed out of Halfdan's arms. Halfdan looked ready to protest but made space.

She turned to Gorm, "Send for Sigrún. We need to get everyone checked, it's time for her to get out of her hut." Then her eyes fiercely looked at Erik. The King squared his shoulders, clearly not wanting to seem intimidated by a woman.

Irvina's lips were pursed as she pulled the knife that Ivar threw. She pulled it out of the man's skull. Her footsteps echoed as the room became deadly silent. Irvina's eyes were like the breathing fire of Muspelheim. Filled with so much rage. Irvina's hand wrapped around Erik's throat, and then she plunged the knife into the side of his throat. The King's eyes widened abruptly. And then his mouth filled with blood, and he slumped forward. Irvina pulled the knife out and plunged it into his neck again. Erik only gurgled as his eyes stayed wide.

Irvina stepped back, making the man fall onto his face. He could see as her chest heaved. He himself grimaced at how she was seething in rage. "Bring those that sided with him, anyone who showed support. For Odin's sake, find Frode and bring that asshole here."

Her eyes slid over the room, "Kill the rest of his men" —her eyes pointedly stayed on the man quivering by Ivar— "except for him." She walked slowly, her head tilted, an angry scowl twisting her face.

"I want you to bring those heads to your Kingdom. Spread the word, anyone who challenges me dies, no more mercy," her words cut through the room like a knife, and the man before her nodded. He sighed in relief once Irvina's eyes turned away from him.

Ivar shrugged, giving her a look, "What the Queen's wants the Queen gets." And soon, heads were falling off. Gunnar turned his head away from the sight disgusting enough to hunt his dreams.

Gorm tilted his head, "I'll take you to our hut. You'll stay there alright. I'll lead Sigrún to you?" Gunnar nodded back. He nervously fiddled until Gorm pushed his arm over his shoulder. The strong support made him exhale in relief.