When Ivar's dear friend, a princess, is captured by Aethelwulf and intended to be killed, Ivar goes to recover her. Little does he know that his witty girl has a plan of her own to escape, and a friend in the most unlikely of places.
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A few days later, the door opened at a most unusual time. Typically, you could expect Aethelwulf to question you about Ivar and the other Ragnarssons. This time a far younger man walked in. He handsome young man with his dark hair falling about his rosy cheeks. His movements seemed almost nervous when he came in. Upon his face there was a look that reminded you of your own Ivar, confident and lacking any humility. He was attractive like Ivar too, but it filled you with discontent to see someone other than Aethelwulf in your room. An unfamiliar face meant wary scoots on the floor back until your back buckled on the wall. Your eyes narrowed into slits with your body fluffing up as if you were an angry kitten. At least he thought you were anyway—you looked too sweet to take the threat seriously. Even if you were a pagan.
"I'm not here to harm you." He says while his hands lift up in a symbol of peace. He cleared the room with no other words. After what you've seen, you know these so-called Christians weren't peace bringing at all. You want to hiss—but it won't come. Instead you curl your legs up to your chest, tugging your burgundy skirt over sore and bloody ankles. He takes a step closer and you withdraw as if you can get away from his limber body.
"You're lying. That is what your people do best." Your voice is low and scratchy. It has been days since you last ate. It wasn't for a lack for food. Aethelwulf supplied dinner night after night. You simply refuse to eat. Alfred drops to his knees and crawls over to you, placing his back against the wall you were against. You shift away. The slack of the chains slap with tension to hold you in place. He tries to illicit talk.
"I met your husband. I beat him at a game of chess." Alfred offers you a piece of the game that he conveniently brought along with him. You reach over and take the piece from his fingers, examining it with quivering hands. The stillness and confidence in his voice makes you think that perhaps he is telling the truth. But who could beat Ivar at games?
"Ivar wouldn't tell me about that. Vikings have their pride about them and... many secrets." You set the piece down beside you, flicking it with your forefinger and thumb back to Aethelwulf. He sets the piece away in his clothes.
"I don't think any man, Christian or pagan, would." Alfred laughs. For a few seconds, you can laugh too. It's something you expect Floki to say. No man would debase himself to his woman. Not that you were Ivar's woman, but in your mind, you are the closest thing to it. Not for long if you don't find a way out of this room. You look back to Alfred,
"I want to see him again. I was stupid to go to see the settlement, but I was worried for my people." You trail off. Alfred shifts his arms one under the other,
"Why would Ivar let you?" He asks as if he knows Ivar inside and out from that one brief space in time that they played together. Alfred reasons that if he had a woman that was not a shieldmaiden such as the Vikings had, why would she place herself in such a situation? Why would he let her? Perhaps there were other reasons behind it.
