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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Hvitserk watched over the month that followed, he watched as the woman who was once close to him distanced herself from him, King Olaf and Canute. King Olaf had instructed one of the women in the village to nurse Iona back to health, to try to help her remember things but it seemed to Hvitserk that whatever this woman was doing wasn't working.
Sitting with King Olaf in the hall, Hvitserk looked over at Iona, she was sat with many women around a table. She looked different, her blonde hair pulled away from her face exposing the red scar on her face as she stared down at the plate before her. Her skin was very pale, much whiter in colour than she'd been before, every part of her slimmer and frailer than the woman he'd known. The clothes she wore were very different, gone was the masculine clothing, now she wore dresses, covered her skin from head to toe in light colours and wore a white fur to keep her warm at all times.
"How long do we wait for her to recover?" Hvitserk finally spoke breaking the silent between himself and Hvitserk.
King Olaf glanced to the blonde, he knew she had so far to go before she was herself again, if she ever regained her memories and strength, he didn't want to admit it out loud, but he was worried she never would. "Hopefully not much longer," he wanted to believe what he was saying but he found it hard.
Hvitserk looked at the King, the two of them making eye contact before Hvitserk looked down at his plate. "I can try something else," Hvitserk suggested quietly.
"Such as?"
"Something I might have said to her in the past," he thought of things the two of them had shared. They had many moments, secrets, things between just the two of them.
Slapping his hand down on the table between the two men, Canute was quick to command their attention before sitting between them on his usual seat. "If you want her to remember, you might need more than words," the dwarf man suggested as he pulled his plate closer to him. "She needs a shock, something to shock all her senses and bring back all the memories quickly."
Turning his head to look at her again, Hvitserk knew there were many actions which had changed her over the years. There were so many things which he could choose from, cruel, heartless acts she had to bare witness to over the years, incidents where she had been hurt, needlessly injured. "I do not wish to hurt her," he admitted to the two men. "She might not know who I am right now, but I would never want her to think of me like the others."
Canute swallowed the mouthful of food before he answered the Prince. "She will remember all the good things you have done for her. She knows where her loyalties lie, if she is the woman you claim she is, she will forgive you for one simple act so she can remember again." Canute spoke wise words and he saw the way Hvitserk's look changed as he listened.
"How ever she is, I will always love her. She will always be dear to me." Hvitserk spoke as he looked at the King.
King Olaf knew how fond Hvitserk was of the young blonde. "Do I sense you would almost prefer her to stay oblivious to the past she once her?"
