"ѕнe waѕ тнe ғιre тнaт ĸepт тнe world вυrnιng."
She was a girl, outcast by her home in England and imprisoned for her crimes. That is until Earl Ingstad, (otherwise known as Lagertha Lothbrok) the ex wife of Ragnar Lothbrok, freed her and took her b...
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I walked alongside the brothers, Ivar further ahead of us in his chariot. I remembered this landscape, the place I'd once called home. England. It was a beautiful country, very different from Norway. Very different indeed. The air smelled like rainwater and grass, the sound of livestock seeping through the wind. The moorlands and hills stretched on for days like ripples through the sands of time. I was so lost in my thoughts, the memories if my youth and how I'd once loved this country and its people with every fiber of my being, that when Hvitserk tapped my shoulder I startled and my thoughts were shot off into the distance. "You alright?" He asked, concerned. I gave a weak smile and nodded. Hvitserk grasped my hand gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze. My face softened as I held onto his hand in my own. "What will they do to Alle when he is defeated?" I asked curiously. "Blood Eagle him, probably." Hvitserk shrugged. "Exciting." I grinned. He looked down at me and gave a short chuckle. "I'm nervous." I muttered to myself, not meaning to let my thoughts slip free from my mind and out of my lips.
"Don't be," Hvitserk smiled "I've seen you fight."
I beamed up at him.
We continued walking for a few hours, not stopping for rests for we had our mission and no one wished to fail in it. Imagine that, the greatest army that Scandinavia had ever produced beaten by a few measly Saxons. Ridiculous. Truly ridiculous. We got to where Alle's men stood waiting. "You should stay with me on my chariot." Ivar insisted. I sighed, choosing to ignore him. "I'm serious, Aneira." "When are you not serious, Ivar?" I frowned. Hvitserk interjected our conversation, "I will look after her, brother, I promise." "You better." Ivar grumbled. I looked at the two with folded arms and just shook my head, "I do not need either of you to look after me. I am a shieldmaiden, not a child." "Aneira-" Hvitserk began but before he could finish his sentence, his brother filled in what he was about to say. "I can't lose you." Ivar stated. The vulnerability in his voice was so prominent that it was almost heartbreaking. He had always been like this, emotional. He masked his fears and insecurities with rage, just like anyone who was insecure about being insecure would. I strolled over to the two of them, resting a hand on both of their shoulders, "I'm not yours to lose." I stated before walking away over to Ubbe. I always preferred to fight beside Ubbe, he didn't get overprotective like his brothers but we still looked out for eachother on the battlefield. "Are you ready?" Ubbe asked, readying his sword in his hands.
"Born ready." I smiled. And, with that, the battle begun.
Saxon soldiers charged towards us, we met them half way. I gracefully dodged swords and arrows. Parry and repost. My hands tightened their grip around the sword, my delicate arms swinging the heavy blade into my enemies with such brutality and ferocity that you'd never think it came from such a small girl. Rage burned through my soul as I slashed at my attackers with the heavy sword. I turned to see Ubbe, and further behind him Bjorn, mowing down the soldiers that charged at them. I looked back in my own path, close to ten soldiers strewn dead on the battlefield behind me. My face stained crimson as I screamed out a war cry, ramming my sword through another man's chest. I pulled it out slowly, watching him splutter as blood filled his throat. His eyes were wide with horror as he looked down at the injury. Soon his head fell limp and I removed my blade, his innards coming with it. I swung my sword over my head, hitting at my newest attacker. He was a larger man, towering over me. My overhead attack barely reached his chest. I looked at him, dismayed, as our swords clashed against eachother aggressively. Sparks flew through the air. Suddenly, his leg flew into my hand. I hadn't enough time to dodge as my sword flew sideways, collapsing on the floor. I looked up at him in shock, quickly pulling my axe from my side. He looked down at me with a grin as I slowly stood up. He charged at me but I did not charge. He assumed he had the upper hand. I held the axe behind me, just above my head. My eyes watched him approach carefully. Before he gained a chance to strike, I threw my axe between his eyes. I ran over to my sword, picking it up before I pulled the axe out of his temple. Blood squirted onto me from his corpse. I put my axe back on my hip, smiling cheerily. I continued to run through the battlefield, collecting the heads of any man who dared to attack me. Soon enough, Alle's army had been defeated and we stood victorious with the King captured. I strolled over to the brothers, wiping blood from my axe, "I told you I didn't need your protection." I stood beside Bjorn as he roughly dragged the king through the woods until we found the place in which he said Ragnar had died. I looked down to the pit, a few snakes still slithering around but none of Ragnar remained. A cage hung above the almost empty pit and I grimaced at the thought of his death. "Such a great man deserved a more respectful death." I sighed, shaking my head. Those stood beside me, nodding in agreement.
Later that day, we watched as Bjorn Blood Eagled the king. He screamed and screamed as his in-trails became out-trails. I chuckled at the sound of his bloodcurdling cries. I suppose he wasn't prepared for such pain. Nor would he ever enter Valhalla now. Once the deed was done and Alle was dead, the brothers all sat laughing and talking with eachother. I was not yet satisfied. I knew that though Alle could never enter Valhalla, he could still enter Heaven. That was not acceptable to me. I walked over to a torch and lifted it up, making my way back towards Alle's corpse. I gently tossed it onto him and then walked away, sitting down and taking a cup of mead in my hand as I watched the fire burn him. "Why did you do that?" Sigurd questioned. "The Christians believe that they should burry their dead. Cremation, for them, is a sin that will end in never being allowed into heaven." I explained. "And you believe this?" Ivar mused. I chuckled, taking a sip of my mead, "I'm not taking any chances. He doesn't deserve anything more than Hell." We made camp that night, the fires keeping the forest alight. When the sun rose in the morning, I was the first up. Not because I was ready to fight, but my stomach churned and my head spun. I ran into the trees before letting the contents of my stomach spew out. Something wasn't right.
Just wanna say that this doesn't represent my beliefs or modern beliefs on cremation. I ain't dissing anyone's loved ones. That was just one of the ridiculous beliefs of the time. Thank y'all so much for the support so far. I'm really enjoying writing this and stuff. Let me know what you guys think of the story. What do y'all think is up with Aneira? Who do you think she's gonna choose? Etc etc.
