Valkyrie

Chapter Three: Season Five

Chapter three: Season five

Something has happened to me. My steps are lighter and I feel weightless. A wide smile has replaced my numb lips and my cheeks burn with happiness and it was all mine. It is all because of Ivar. I was happy. I was giddy and nothing around me mattered except how I felt right in the moment as I strolled down the hallway. I did not notice any of the marvelous paintings perched against the wall or the silly artifacts that sat with boredom. 

“Sigrun…” a gruff, dull voice interrupted my stroll down the hall, I turned around and noticed Prince Oleg approaching me. I bowed, respectfully. He was such a bore. There was nothing that sparked an interest in me about him. When he is drunk, he is angry, and when he is even happy or content, he is still angry. 

“Prince Oleg…” 

“And what made you spontaneously happy this morning?” He asked, taking my hand and placing a kiss on it. I’m not exactly sure what the gesture meant, but his lips pressed against my hand make me quiver unpleasantly. Without seeming disrespectful, I politely pulled it away.

“It is a beautiful day-” I nervously said, “I was going to spend time with Hvitserk.” 

“Ah-” he said, disappointingly. “I see.” He lifted his head, his cold eyes glaring down upon me, making me feel inferior to him.

“Who...is Hvitserk to you exactly?” He asked. “Just like Ivar, I raised him, he is close to me in age, and I consider him my brother.” 

“I do believe Hvitserk is still asleep…” Prince Oleg said. 

“It’s ok,” I nodded, “I’ll go wake him-” I turned to quickly walk away, “He’s used to my wake up calls-” 

Prince Oleg took me by the wrist and gripped it tightly, causing an alarm to erupt in me. “There is no need to wake up the sleeping Prince…” Oleg growled. He came close behind me, twisting my arm behind my back. He inhaled my scent, his hot breath causing me to feel diguest. 

“I can see you bear my children!” His rough voice came with a mix of desire. I ignored him as I calmly came up with a plan to get myself away.

“My children will be Norwegian and so will their children!” I mumbled. Prince Oleg heard me as he violently turned me around. He stared into my eyes to find them vast, vacante, and cold. I’m not afraid of a Rus Prince playing King.

“Sigrun!” I turned to see Ivar standing at the end of the hallway. Oleg quickly released me as I shamefully walked over to my lover. I held my head down as Ivar kept his eyes fixed on Oleg. In our native language I explained myself and apologized, but Ivar put his hand up. He knew it was not my fault and knew of Oleg’s trickey. Ivar gently gilded me behind him.

I turned facing Ivar’s back, but clear enough for Oleg to notice me. I smiled evilly, my lips stretching from ear to ear. Oleg became unsteady. A lump formed in his throat, his fist was gently clenched, and his face was petrified and his eyes screamed for help that his voice couldn’t. Ivar casually approached him and smoothly said,

“I suppose we will have another meeting about the invasion tonight, My Prince?” Ivar calmly said. 

Oleg cleared his throat, “Yes, one last meeting before we start assembling would be nice,” fear overcame as he struggled to calm himself. Ivar grinned as pleasantly as he could before turning to me. 

Ivar came back over to me and nicely took my wrist into his hand. He merely glanced down at my wrists. They were no longer bruised, but there was some hint of yellow coloring. The wrist that Oleg grabbed was red, but not to the point where a new bruise will form. Ivar’s callous hands held my arm tenderly as his thumb hovered over my new wound. Ivar nodded, satisfied to see my wrist will not have to suffer again.