Honor and Blood - Part I.

Queen Vanya

Ivar and Vanya laid in each other's arms, gazing at the ceiling in thoughts. Neither said anything as they basked in the bliss of their earlier activities. The more Vanya's stomach grew, the harder it was for them to sleep with each other, but that didn't mean that they didn't try. It took some thinking and changing positions, but it always worked.

Ivar ghosted his fingertips over Vanya's left shoulder as she laid on his arm. His right arm laid on his stomach, where it held her petite hand. He was enjoying the calm while it lasted, who knew what catastrophe Silas would bring on. Up until now, he just seemed bitter and bratty, which worried Ivar. The Ragnarsson was paranoid with worry, not sure if Silas was planning something or not. Yet Vanya reassured him to be cautious; there was a Ragnarsson with her at all times just to be sure.

"Sometimes, I wish we could stay here forever, never grow hungry, or thirsty and never die. Just you and me and our child. Would you like that?" Vanya questioned, looking into Ivar's eyes at the end. The Viking smiled down at his lovely wife and nodded.

"With no worries or responsibilities to annoy us. Just laying here and passing the time." He kissed her forehead as Vanya smiled at him with a teasing gleam in her blue eyes.

She raised one eyebrow at his and leaned closer to his face. "And how would you pass the time, Min elskede (My beloved)?" The Princesses smirk made her the more appealing to Ivar. No matter if her hair was a mess or if she was sick, Vanya always looked like Freyja to him.

"I can think of a way or two." He said back, his eyes darkening as they locked their lips together.

Vanya then pulled away from him and got up from the bed with some difficulty as Ivar pouted at her. "Why must you torment me like this, Min skatt (My treasure)?" The Princess looked at the pouting prince on the bed and winked at him.

"It is fun to see you pout, Ivar."

"I do not pout."

"Sure, Min elskede (My beloved), whatever you say." Ivar rolled his eyes at her sarcastic tone and moved to get ready. His eyes slid to Vanya's pale body that put on a yellow dress. The roundness of her stomach, her plumb chest, and smooth skin made him yearn to pull her back into the bed and keep her there like they discussed moments ago.

Vanya waddled over to her husband and kissed him on the head, smiling down at him as an apology, even though she wasn't sorry. She grew to love teasing Ivar; he always humored her with his reactions.

The young couple entered the Great Hall, where the Ragnarssons and Aslaug were already seated, as Silas and his knights entered later on. The only one of the knights that the King allowed to sit at the table was Stithulf. The blond Christian followed Vanya's brother like a shadow, always smiling charmingly while he whispered into the King's ear. He made the ginger's skin crawl.

"Good Morning, Brother." Vanya smiled as Silas, her hands clenched in her lap to hide her hate for him. The more loved Silas felt, the better. Whoever strokes his ego the most, lived the longest. Maybe that's why Stithulf is so good at it. What worried Vanya about the knight, was that he wasn't such a trusted friend to her brother when she left. Back then, he held the knights at arm's length and listened to the council. Now he seemed to be led by knights.

Silas returned her greeting halfheartedly and ate his food while the conversation by the table evolved. They ate their morning meal and talked in Norse about Floki's progress in building the ships and who agreed to travel with him. Right after, Vanya walked outside with Ubbe to meet up with Brynja and visit the market. The eldest son of Aslaug walked behind them, joking with the pregnant Princess and cheerful servant.

"And did you dream any more dreams of the stranger, Vanya?" Brynja questioned, showing the ginger a pretty necklace with red jewels in the middle.