"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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Bjorn was gone. Floki was gone. Helga was dead. Sigurd was dead. I could not find it within me to forgive Ivar. The only people I had left were Ubbe and Hvitserk, the two oldest sons of Queen Aslaug.
"You have not spoken to Ivar all week." Ubbe noticed as we marched across the Great British countryside. Hvitserk was following shortly behind us. Ivar was right at the front on his chariot.
"I'm aware." I stated coldly.
"I'm worried that he is not coping well with Sigurd's death." Ubbe continued.
"He should've thought about that before he threw an axe into his brother's chest, shouldn't he?" I asked rhetorically.
"He's changing, Aneira. Hvitserk and I have tried to talk sense to him. Perhaps you're the only one he will listen to." He pleaded.
"Not my problem." With that, I sped up my pace to move away from the Ragnarssons. I heard someone jog up behind me, assuming it was Ubbe still trying to talk. That is until I felt someone's hand move around my waist.y eyes narrowed as I turned to see who it was. I should've guessed. Hvitserk. "What?"
"I came to see how you were." Hvitserk smiled innocently.
"Fine."
I kept walking.
"Aneira, I'm worried about you." The young Prince admitted finally. I raised an eyebrow in return. "I know that Sigurd's death has not been easy... But you don't seem like yourself." The concern in Hvitserk's voice was genuine. He was worried about me.
"I said I was fine." I spoke more firmly, raising my voice a little. It was not my wish to be so harsh with Hvitserk, I knew that burning these bridges would lead to misery. I also knew that they would not be easy to burn, that Hvitserk would keep trying to talk sense to me for as long as he had a mouth to speak. I knew that neither he or Ubbe would just give up on me. They were both good people, like I said. That didn't stop me from distancing myself. I suppose it was a coping mechanism that I had learned from the Queen of Kattegat herself.
"Aneira... Please talk to me." Hvitserk tried.
I looked up it him, my once bright eyes were cold and distant. "Leave me alone, prince." I said bitterly. It was one of those moments. I was not entirely sure what came over me. I was just not in the mood. I was furious. And I took it out on the two people for whom I actually cared. It felt so wrong but it was involuntary.
Finally we reached York, me walking most of the way alone and in silence.
It looked just like I remembered. We'd all stooped outside, even Ivar took notice as my legs began to feel weak beneath me and my eyes did not move from the place I had once called home. The three brothers looked to me, concern evident in their sea of big blue eyes.
I just stared out at York, feeling weak and vulnerable... And lost. This was the place where I had lost my youth. Where I had lost my mother. Where I lost my best friend. The memories of everything from the last few years flashed before my eyes. Good and bad.
I remembered my first marriage, being branded and betrayed. I remembered watching Anwyn stab my mother. I remembered being sold into slavery. I remembered being beaten and abused. I remembered injuring my back and being unable to walk. I remembered the night that I had bled out. I remembered everyone I'd lost.
But then my memories became sweet. They begun with being freed by Lagertha. I remembered her training me and teaching me Old Norse. I remembered meeting Bjorn for the first time. He had not seemed too impressed by the scrawny fourteen year old to begin with but after a while of us three sitting by the fire and talking we got closer. I remembered meeting Bjorn's brothers. I remembered training with Ubbe and long treks with Ivar up to Helga and Floki's. I remembered skipping stones along the water with Hvitserk and long arguments with Sigurd. I remembered playing chess with Ivar. I remembered Ubbe insisting on walking me home every time I'd had a little too much to drink. I remembered kissing Ivar on the beach. I remembered spending the night with Hvitserk. I remembered my child.
I was a Viking now, not that little girl who feared her father. I was no longer afraid. I refused to be afraid again.
