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The Saxons ran after the small group of Vikings lead by Ivar and Floki. Alfild waited with her army, ready to receive commands on when to attack. Again and again, the Saxons were lead around by Ivar's men. It appeared to infuriate the Christians (understandably) and Alfild couldn't help but chuckle at their rage.
Soon their leader, a man named Aethelwulf, declared that the Christians would attack the longboats and the viking camp instead of chasing after the heathens any longer. And that was exactly the moment that Alfild was waiting for. Silently, she gleefully thanked Ivar for his plan and prayed to Freyja before running out towards the men.
Her eyes were ablaze with fury as she charged into battle, swords in hand. A loud roar escaped her lips. Man after man charged at her, each being cut down by the swift action of her sword. Blood splattered over her face from the sharp steel blade, bloodcurdling screams leaving her enemies in their final moments.
The Saxon Prince laid eyes on the girl as she charged towards him with unwavering rage. Her emerald eyes burned into him with an inhuman ferocity as her blade rapidly approached him.
Quickly, the man mounted his horse and left, yelling to his troops to retreat. Alfild simply stood there triumphantly, celebrating with her fellow warriors as they stood amongst the corpses of their foes. It had worked. The plan had truly worked.
Slowly, her bloody face turned, her emerald eyes looking over to the other group. In the distance, she noticed Ivar do the same. And, for a moment, their eyes met. Firey Green against icey Blue. For a moment, the faintest hint of a smile lingered on the girls lips as she looked at him. Meanwhile, Ivar just looked over wondering what she was about to do. She was a most unpredictable woman, perhaps that's what made them both so similar.
Suddenly, she tore her gaze from his and directed her cheerful troops back to the Viking camp. The others would surely be back soon and she was determined to wash and go to bed before they did.
Though Alfild enjoyed their celebrations as much as anyone else, she did not wish to be distracted. There were too many untrustworthy characters in this strange land and Alfild knew that she must stay alert. This was no time for games and celebrations. It was no time to let her guard down and allow herself to lose focus. She had a job to do, and she was not one to fail.
"You got here quickly." The cripples familiarly accusing tone rang through her ears. She couldn't decide whether the sound of his voice reminded her of banshees in her ear or the song of a faerie. Perhaps both. For she both yearned to hear it and craved it's end.
"I walked." She stated plainly, hoping he would leave. Oh what a fool she was.
Ivar seemed only more interested as her anger persisted. "Do you not plan to celebrate with the others?"
"Why would I celebrate? The battle was ours but the war has not yet been won." She answered.
For a moment, Alfild was horrified to say she thought she saw the faint traces of a smile upon the young man's lips. Though, she wasn't exactly sure. "That's what I said." His eyes shone brightly under the sun.
Perhaps only for a moment, Alfild thought of things she knew were wrong. She thought of how infuriatingly handsome the boy was. She thought of how she wished things could have been different. But, as her mother would have said, those were the naive thoughts of a foolish girl. She was not a girl. She was a queen. And she must behave like one. She slammed the thoughts from her mind, her eyes turning a sudden cold shade and her face draining if emotion. "Just leave me alone, boneless."
"Here is what I do not understand about you." Ivar began, making the girl pause. "One moment, you are fine and the next you hate me. The only conclusion I can come to is that you do not really hate me."
She gave a sneer, "Please! I hate every fiber of your being. The only rational conclusion one could draw from my behaviour is that I'm just trying my hardest not to rip your ribs from your body as Bjorn did to your father's killer."
"Really?" Ivar smirked, making her blood boil.
"Really." She answered plainly and spitefully.
"Really?" He persisted.
"Really." She confirmed.
The boy took a moment to think, his blue eyes like sapphires under the dimming sunlight. After his brief deliberation, upon which Alfild awaited a conclusion, Ivar spoke again. "I don't believe you."
Alfild groaned in exasperation at the boy, "For Odin's sake Ivar! You're a nightmare! You could drive a sane man mad."
"Thank you." He answered calmly.
She glared at him, eyes of steel, before departing towards her tent. Quickly, she slammed it closed and sunk to the ground. A wide smile spread upon her lips in the privacy of her tent where he could not see to add to his cocky grin. "In Frigg's name." She sighed before chuckling to herself about the Prince and her odd interaction with him.
Although she could never admit it, his company was almost worth every second of self loathing she gained from enjoying it.
