King Ivar spends much of his time with his infertile first wife: neglecting his second wife, the mother of his children, a Freyjasdottir. Eventually, it catches up to him when a foreign King Sverri invades his lands.
tw: abuse, character death, etc.
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"Floki wants to do what?"
You can't believe what you are hearing from your husband whose hand is permanently affixed to his ale as if it's a second breath. He has a clouded look to his eyes as if he is far past drunk. The sight was recurrent many nights. The older that Uxi, Veifnr and Avaldr had gotten, the more that he seems to lose himself in his drink when not busy with things of a kingly or Viking nature. His sticky palms rip across the pitcher that he nurses.
"Take him. Mother and he raised me. He can raise Avaldr." Ivar sets the pitcher down to his drink, the sticky fluid dripping down the edge of the cup when he missed just so much.
"You are not shipping away my son with Floki!" You snap, finding that Ivar would snap back just as heatedly.
"He has NOTHING here! With Floki, he has a chance. A chance to know the gods and find strange medicine that we cannot offer." He realizes that you're leering at him hatefully, as if you despise his very existence, so he drinks harder. The headache wells in the frontal part of his head because this is beginning to be too much for him to handle.
"He wouldn't have to if you hadn't raped me! It is your fault!" You snarl out. Ivar thrusts his cup across the room, spilling over the stairs to his throne.
"I know that!" Ivar makes you buckle back by the shrill of his voice. "I am trying to save him! What have you done but blame me?"
You fall silent. "He is not going with Floki. He is staying here. Find another way."
You didn't want Ivar to put him down. You didn't want Ivar to give him to Floki for a chance at life. Ivar holds his forehead in stress. What other option was there for him to take? He could search out a healer for his son– have Hvitserk go out.
But would the healer be good enough for you?
"You limit my options at every turn." He rasps. "He is only worsening as he grows. He has no strength to crawl. I am running out of time." He hisses.
Of course you knew that. You wanted to find an option— but one viable for you to go with. If you could not go with him, you feared him coming back dead. He was over a year now and Floki's runes curved his pain. Truly that was all you could ask for, but if you were being honest, you wanted more.
"Lets go together with Floki on an expedition. Kitta can stay." Ivar says– and you agree.
You wanted him happy and healthy.
It had been a long, long time since you had been on a boat. Avaldr insists on dragging himself where he can with what little strength is left in those brittle bones. The boat is swift, cutting through the foreign waters with a creak of the sail whipping in winds. Uxi stares out of the little boat towards the horizon where nothing but dark waters lay.
"Where are we going?" Uxi asks. He looks to the men that pull the oars swiftly through the waters. A fleet was behind them, flying Ivar's brilliant red colours through the slapping of cloth.
