Bound - Ivar the Boneless

1

Thyra sat atop the wooden tower, watching as Floki and Helga tested the project boats they were working on for Bjorn's fleet to the Mediterranean. She had heard Floki's speculation of its existence, and often wondered why he would build all these boats if he didn't believe the place to exist.

But Thyra stopped that questioning, and understood that Floki's actions and thoughts are nothing but the will of the God's that favour his existence.

She sat on the edge of the tower, a jump down and she would hit the soft sand of the beach. She remained there and started to pick at her leathers. She was going stir crazy.

Thyra needed to hit something, chase something, kill something.

She knew that Ivar and his brothers had gone to the cabin to hunt. Their mother, Aslaug, had told her herself when she came looking for the boy she favoured. Thyra thought about the way Aslaug had chuckled many years ago when she caught Thyra staring at Ivar. Not in fear, but with admiration of the boy.

'Thyra the Shadow' Aslaug had whispered to her, gently stroking her head so many years ago and continuing to follow the trolley her crippled son was being carried in. Thyra sometimes still felt the phantom touch from Aslaug agains her head, wishing she could savour any touch she recieved and keep it forever.

Ivar tolerated her at best. Wether she was considered to be his friend or not, she didn't know. All she knew was that she would follow him anywhere, do whatever she asked- be whatever he wanted her to be should the Gods will it.

Thyra chuckled to herself as she dismissed the thoughts for a moment. She flung her legs over the wood, meeting at the bend in her knee and hung upside down for a moment. She was going insane without having something to do.

Helga looked to her, kind eyes she had- but were filled with sorrow and pain. She knew Floki felt that pain too, but nothing compared to Helga.

"Trying to get a better look on things are you, Thyra?"

She turned, still upside down to the forest line, to see Bjorn Ironside standing there with an expressionless look on his face. Thyra chuckled, reaching out her hands to the middle wooden beam of the tower and swinging her legs down to land upright in the world once more.

Bjorn was always kind to her, the whole village was. But in this moment, she did not believe that Bjorn was there just to look at the progression of his boats. Floki was tense, and walked towards the eldest son of Ragnar Lothbrok with an equally expressionless face.

By this time, Thyra was 17. A year older than Ivar, but had the wiseness not to listen to Bjorn and Floki's conversation. She shuffled through the sand toward Helga, stepping into the water and bending to examine one of the small boats.

"Would you sail, Thyra?" Helga asked as she held a bigger prototype boat in her hands, an eyebrow raised to the village orphan, who was Thyra.

Thyra considered her words. Helga didn't ask if she would sail to the Mediterranean- she simply asked if she would sail. She smiled to herself, meeting her gaze and flicking some water playfully at her.

"You know I would sail, where needed." Thyra answered back, a cryptic answer for a cryptic question. Helga appreciated the words, but Thyra didn't think she much so believed them as her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Helga reached out, stroking the braid of Thyra's raven black hair, meeting her green eyes with speckled brown spots, and smiling at her- with concern. She wanted to be held by a mother, to be claimed as a child of their own- but Thyra knew they were not the ways.

Bjorn approached, speaking with Helga about the Mediterranean, Floki chiding in with his inputs.

"How do we know that it is real?" Floki asked, now leaning against the tower Thyra had been seated at moments before.

"I learned from my father. The only way to tell if something is real, is to sail there." Bjorn answered, sealing his fate to go there.

At the end of it all, Thyra understood that Floki and Helga would be sailing to the potentially make believe place with Bjorn. She didn't feel sad, or rather she didn't believe she had the right to. Floki and Helga are not her parents, she doesn't get that choice.

'The only way to tell if something was real...'

Thyra looked to Bjorn with a wolf's grin, "then I will pray to the gods that it exists Bjorn Ironside." She didn't need to, she has seen it already. Thyra has visions, and has only ever confided in Aslaug. She has seen Bjorn sailing to this very real place, and conquering. But she would not tell him that, it was not her place.

"I hope you will, and you are welcome to join us Thyra." Bjorn offered as he dusted the sand from his hands and clapped Thyra on the shoulder. She smiled, but knew where he place was.

'I will go, wherever he goes.'

- - - -

Thyra now stood beside a rock, where Ivar leaned against in the village. With his legs to the side of him, he twisted his torso to rest his palms and chin on the rock with a gleam in his eyes. Thyra couldn't pin the emotion playing on his face, and she rarely could unless it was anger. But his smile was something to behold, rare and beautiful.

She spun her dagger in her fingers, wanting to feel it pierce through something to get out all this energy she had in her system. A fight, a brawl, a war. Anything would suit her needs at this point. She looked to where  Ivar was over her shoulder, smirking at his gaze.

"Pay me the blessing of hearing your thoughts, Ivar." Thyra said with some sarcasm, but she meant every word.

"I have realised how close you are to me. When mother calls you 'Thyra the Shadow', I never considered what those words may mean until recently." He tilted his head, challenging her for whatever reason.

"You have followed me for years, like a stray dog begging for scraps. My mother tolerates you, but maybe that is because she feels sorry for you. I however, do not. So tell me Thyra, why do you follow me. Why don't you find someone else to pester, because I am not a charity." Ivar said, his words almost a growl at the end of his sentence.

Thyra turned to face him, her complexion of stone startled Ivar for a moment, before he smirked once more and met her gaze.

She hummed, considering his words. Was this one of his tests to see how she would react to him? He has done many in the past- all she handled with grace. This time, was different. She stared at him, feeling his rage just below the surface- a rage that is not too far from her own. She never understood where it came from, but knew that she would stay with him. Thyra circled the rock, her hands now behind her back and a wicked look on her face.

"You never asked for me, Ivar-" She said, stopping in front of the anger fueled cripple, and gazing deeply into his pinned glare. His eyes were especially blue today, "but I promise you. Whether you like it or not, I am bound to you."

Ivar did not have time to say what was on his mind. A booming shout echoed over the hills, across all the rooftops of Kattegat- startling the both of them.

"RAGNAR LOTHBROK HAS RETURNED".