Valkyrie

Chapter Four: Season Three

Tempers flared. Arguments began and then suddenly a war broke out between the people I supposably loved and they loved me. A twinge of loneliness settled inside me as tears came down my face. Anger erupted from me as I tried to tame it. I could not express that at all and even if I did, I would be pushed aside.

At first, I just wanted to get up and leave. I wanted to leave Ivar and Hvitserk; Bjorn and Lagertha. I wanted to leave Kattegat and never return, what is the point of it? Mama is dead, Sigurd is dead, and Ragnar is dead. The people who truly ever did love me are gone. I looked upon Lagertha who was fighting against Ivar's men, I suppose she did love me. When she wanted to. I didn't know love worked like that.

Wait...love has never worked like that. I'm not someone you look upon when you want too. My name Queen of the Valkyries is the only title I will ever amount to and she knows that. I could never be Queen of Kattegat, but I'm Queen of the Dead, Queen of the lowest. If she loved me so much, then why has she not freed me yet? Everything she has ever done for me is out of pity. Pity is not love, it's merely charity.

Ubbe has never respected me. He only followed the rules to respect the Gods. He shows more respect to that thrall Margrette and Torvi who I still have no idea how Lagertha favored her. I'm just as much a skill fighter as Torvi. Torvi did not come from a well to do family, she was just as low as me at one point. How is Lagertha respecting her more than me?

Ivar was right. They only used me to save Lagertha's skin. From the looks of Bjorn practically making Hvitserk fall to the ground, he never loved or respected his little half- brothers. I was a puppet to them and I let them use me. They treat Ivar just the same, as a puppet; a fool. They mock my upbringing of my boys.

I gritted my teeth as I stood up from my pity. I removed my father's sword as it rang crisply into the air. If I'm going to die a thrall, I'm going to die as the first thrall who stood up for every single thrall who had to lower their voice. I charged forward as the first soldier tried to attack me. I blocked him and plunged my sword into his belly. It was one of Ivar's men. A shield-maiden appeared and swung her ax at me as I blocked it. I took her ax from her weak hand and beheaded her. It was one of Lagertha's shield-maidens.

This is not about whose side I'm on. This is about the respect I deserve. I wanted to prove I'm not some weak peasant to pity for. I'm a Viking, I have Viking blood in me! I'm not a fool, I am a descendant of Frey: God of war, Freya: Goddess of love, and Odinn my Allfather. I'm just as worthy to the Gods. I'm their daughter just as much as Lagertha is. I'm worthy of love from them, love from Lagertha, Bjorn, and Ivar. I'm worthy.

Ivar from on top of a hill watched as I bathed in the blood of the soldiers. His lips curled around his face and his eyes widened. He looked upon me with pride and amazement. I stopped for a moment and took in his attention. Although I was not too happy with him either, I pointed my sword at him, and heaved with anger. He then took his ax in his free hand and pointed it at me. It did not phase him at all.

"Sigrun!" grunted Hvitserk, appearing from behind me. He attacked a shield-maiden who was about to take me out. We intensely stared at each other, blood covering our faces as we laughed menacingly. My blood rushed through my veins and I could not feel anything in my body.

I turned swiftly to catch Lagertha's sword with mine. I woke from my blood thirsty daze and realized I almost took her out. She was covered in mud, blood, and sweat. Her golden hair was suddenly turned into a grayish white. She pushed my sword away and moved back from me.

"I do not want to kill you, Sigrun!" She shouted.

"You could try!" I mocked her. My tongue slither out as my eyes burned with fire.

She swung her sword, missing me entirely. I carefully charged at her, making sure I did not get impaled by her sword. I missed her. She speared me to the ground, punching me in the face. I kicked her off, sending her flying backwards. I picked up my sword along with a grip full of dirt. I then swung the sword roughly at her. Her sword sliced my face on the side. The rough sting made me fall backwards.