Maddend Heart ~Ivar The Boneless~

Chapter 62// Lies

The next days the coldness between Ivar and me was unmatchable.

He avoided me and our bedroom as much as he could and I was glad for it. I forced him to sleep in a different room and when he didn't obey I simply threw a few furs and a pillow on the floor ignoring him for the rest of the time. To my surprise he was tired of fighting me and settled on the improvised bed.

The naming ceremony came faster than I wished for and as soon as we stepped out I had to pretend that everything is fine. I had to pretend like I wanted to be here, be beside him while he claims our daughter as his.

With drums echoing through Kattegat and the flames of a thousand torches reflecting on the pale face of my baby the ceremony began.

I was handing her over to the shaman while Ivar was watching me closely.

We were once again dressed like gods themselves with jewels on every part of our body. I began to hate the look of something I adored such a long time ago.

As the drums grew louder and the men begin to chant in old norse I glue my eyes back on my baby. The people watch us closely as Ivar is being asked something I don't quite understand. Little Melinoe or Thyra as she was named for the Sake of the people and shamans looked tired and confused.

I was still a little mad that the most powerful man in whole scandinavia didn't have the balls to let her have a Greek name. The sagas would talk about Thyra the sorceress or Thyra the ruthless, never Melinoe. But for me she was and always will be my little Mel no matter what will be told after her death.

I guessed that he was asked if he claimed the child as the shaman glared at me. Ivar looked over me before nodding with a smirk plastered on his lips. A smirk telling me and everyone else that he claimed her as his like he had claimed me.

Foreign words roll off his tongue as blood is being sprayed in both of our faces. The do the same with Mel before chants begin telling me that it was completed. My daughter was now as much a part of Ivar as I was. Though there was no doubt that she was Ivars I still felt scared he would suddenly flip.

That he would become dangerous to me or our daughter and that our illusion of a perfect family would be destroyed by the chaos both of us have caused.

...

The celebrations are taken to the great hall where Ivar has our baby on his arm as he laughs and shouts. I just sit beside him pretending I actually want to be here. I used to like these gathering because in their own twisted way they were beautiful and warm. Now it has become a duty, the festivities, the daily work walking around with fine clothes and simply being Queen. I've grown tired turning from the mad Queen to the wife of a mad King.

It was as if my saga was overshadowed by Ivars legacy just as much as the terror he brought. Would I ever be known for Helena of the shadow Islands again?

He holds the child like a prize while I watch every move of him fearing he might drop her.

I abandon my food and drink glaring out the hall to find any purpose in all this. Is this really who I wanted to become? Is this what my life is meant to be? Sitting between sweating drunk men the whole night while my husband doesn't dare to touch me?

I want to dance and to feel love again. My husband could never dance but his old self would've tried simply if he knew it would make me happy.