Honor and Blood - Part I.

Of monsters and maidens

Not thinking much of the late-night visitor, Vanya called the person in. What she did not expect was the reason behind her troubles standing behind the door. Ivar came into her room without an explanation and looked at her like a predator stalking his prey.

"My Prince-"

"It's Ivar. We are to be married soon; you should call me by my name, Vanya." The man cut her off slowly, crawling towards her. She quickly sprung from her bed and walked back towards the wall behind her.

Ivar only rolled his eyes at her and made his way to the two chairs by the fire instead. He pulled himself up and looked at her over his shoulder.

"Come join me. I wish to talk." She slowly walked to the other chair, cautious of his intentions. But Ivar ignored her hesitancy and pulled his legs into a more comfortable position. She was too busy watching him that she didn't notice she already reached the chair. Vanya hit her foot and knee against the hardwood. She winced in pain, making Ivar chuckle.

"As entertaining as it is to watch, as you hurt yourself, be quieter while doing it. I am not supposed to be here." He informed her, observing the way she moved. She was clumsy, shy, reserved. It was annoying.

But his answer surprised Vanya. "Why are you here then, My Pri-Ivar."

The man only rolled his eyes again and looked at her with a deadpan expression on his face. "I said I want to talk to you. Or do you think I came to speak to the furniture?"

Vanya shook her head frantically, hoping that he wouldn't get angry at her for her ignorance. "I am sorry. What do you wish to talk about?"

Ivar let out a breath in frustration and divided his attention from the burning fire that Margrethe build. He kept watching her with his shining blue eyes like he was looking for something. It made her uneasy, mostly because she couldn't help but look back at him. He indeed was handsome.

"Today, you said that you didn't know my name until Bjorn told you. Did your brother not tell you anything?" He kept looking at her like she was a complicated battle strategy he had to come up with.

"No. Silas is not very... Talkative. We don't get along that much." The ginger princess explained, playing with her fingers. A bad habit she couldn't get did off, no matter how many times Silas hit her for it.

Ivar scoffed and looked away from her. "You do not get along with my brother that much, either."

Vanya blushed, trying to think of an answer that would make the unpredictable man happy. "I am sorry. I didn't like how he talked about you. I will try to be nicer to him."

"Don't bother; I don't like Sigurd either. Nobody does." She nodded at his answer. At least they had something in common. She flinched when his large hand reached out to her face. Instead of hitting her, did he trail his fingers over her neck.

The bruise that Silas left behind from choking her was now faded and yellow. Barely visible. But what shocked her was the gentleness behind his touch. "But if my brother touched me like this, I would kill him."

"I am not a Viking. I would for before I could lay a hand on him." It hurt to admit. She was weak. Because that's what women are supposed to be. Submissive. But she saw female warriors on Bjorn's ship and in Kattegat. The women here we're anything but weak and ladylike. She liked it. It was so different from home.

"Do you want to be?" Ivar's question startled her. What did he mean? He saw her confused face and explained while waving his hand around. "Be a shieldmaiden. Do you want to learn how to fight?"

Did she? It sounded exciting. But she was in no way build to fight. She was small with thin arms. How could she be a warrior?

"I could teach you. You don't have to. I would protect you, anyway. Mother says a husband defends his wife." Vanya looked at him, surprised.