Keep your confessions,
Cause babe, I'm no saint,
We're playing with fire,
But I like this game.
Iona Lagerthadottir
She's everything that has ever tempted him in a woman.
Ivar Ragnarsson
He's the excitement that she needs and craves.
Separately th...
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The evening that followed was another where there was celebrations, drinking and loud music.
Iona found herself sitting on a small stool beside Ivar, she was not going to invite herself onto the second throne chair, it was down to Ivar to make that move. She wondered if he thought about making her his Queen, she wasn't even sure she wanted that in her life, she just wanted a chance to be his equal.
She watched as he drank from his horn, before she noticed his interest was piqued. Following his gaze, she looked at the blonde woman who Ivar had freed. It felt like she was every where Little Bear looked. She knew the feeling inside of her was jealousy. It was building deep inside of her, a rage that felt so different to how she'd felt before, yet so similar.
"Hvitserk has brought Margrethe," the young blonde by Ivar's side spoke trying to get his attention. She just wanted to see if his attention was fully on the slave woman. Little Bear waited for a moment, there was no reply and Ivar did not move his eyes away from the woman.
Looking over at her, Little Bear narrowed her eyes, the colour changed to a red as she stared. She wondered what lies Ivar had been fed, what he believed from this woman.
Her hand shook as she raised her horn and finished the mead inside of it. She glanced in Hvitserk's direction, he sat close to the crazy Margrethe. Iona didn't want to associate herself with her, Margrethe was dangerous, she'd always been one to cause problems. Little Bear wondered why she'd been left behind, after all, Margrethe had been married to Ubbe at one point during this time. The young daughter of Lagertha knew Ubbe well, he would not have left her without good cause.
Looking back at Ivar, she spoke again, hoping this time he would hear her. "I'll be back shortly," she spoke quietly. She didn't actually care if he heard her or not, her plans were better if she was not interrupted.
He didn't speak again, his eyes on the blonde at the back of the room. Standing up, Iona put her horn down on the small table and took a few steps away before Ivar recognized she was moving. "Where are you going?" He asked making her freeze.
Turning to face him, she smiled as she looked into those eyes of his. "I will be back," she told him sweetly. She didn't want him to follow her.
Heading out of the main hall, Little Bear walked through the private quarters at the back. Her hands were sweaty and shaky like her nerves. During her short life, she'd done some questionable things and in her mind, she now wondered why she was worried about her next step. She took herself through the home checking her clothing to make sure she had her knife with her.
Her movements were swift as she walked through Kattegat at night. She avoided stopping to talk to people, avoided being seen as she made her way back to the hall. She quietly entered through the door, sneaking in, the loud music and eyes on Ivar made sure no one saw her. Her eyes scanned the room as she stood silently at the back, pulling her hood over her hair. The blonde had made her way to the front of the room, she had moved from the back and now sat by Ivar's side. Taking a deep breath, Iona pulled her knife out, her nose twitched as she held it up.
