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Tears welled in her emerald eyes as she made her way into the forest. The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on her lips making it difficult to breathe. With a jolt, she stopped and rested one hand against a tree. Her eyes wandered towards the ocean sky as she exhaled a deep breath, pushing the tears back from sight.
Though she had been betrayed many times, it was never something she got used to. Again and again she felt her love and trust being torn away. Soon, she feared, there would be no humanity left within her. Or was that already the case? He was infamous for murder and rage. How much good could still be left within her? She hoped there was enough.
Her thoughts wandered to the ragnarssons. Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Sigurd had all done nothing wrong. In fact, she liked them. She believed Bjorn to be a great man and she knew that he would lead on well from his father. Ubbe was kind and she enjoyed talking to him, but she knew he possessed the same potential as Bjorn if not more. Hvitserk was funny, and had he not been there for her when her mother died? Had he not lifted that burden even just a little? And Sigurd? Sigurd was a boy who she believed had a great potential, if only he could push his anger and spite aside.
Last, but not at all least, there was Ivar. Ivar had as much if not more anger than all the brothers combined. He was broken and yet strong. He was cunning and bloodthirsty. Of all of them, Alfild had always found Ivar the most intriguing. That being said, he was the one that killed her mother. The other four may not have been responsible, but Ivar certainly was. And yet, she couldn't help but think he had his reasons. Would she not have done the same in his position? If Aslaug had talked of killing her mother, Alfild would have murdered her and all her sons. And yet, Ivar hadn't killed Alfild. He'd only killed Brunhilde.
Just as her thoughts turned to the youngest son, he appeared. "What are you doing?" He asked.
"Go away Ivar, I'm not in the mood." She sighed, trying her best to contain the rage that bubbled within her. It was true, she'd had doubts about her rage toward Ivar, but that did not mean she hated him any less. If anything, it meant she pushed him even further away. Being alone in the woods was rather tempting. One flick if the wrist with her blade and the problem if his existence was gone. Moreover, she feared she may cry and the concept of crying in front of others was detestable. She'd done it once over the death of Brunhilde and vowed never to do so again.
"You never are." He answered, crawling over to her and taking a seat a few feet away. After a moments silence, he spoke again. "Are you going to kill him?"
Alfild looked towards Ivar in confusion, but then again of course he knew what was going on. It was Ivar after all. "Of course I'm going to kill him!" She yelled with rage. "I'm going to kill him and every one of his supporters, and I am going to make it hurt. I'm going to make him spend days wishing he was dead until he can take it no more."
He nodded in understanding, as though he knew perfectly well how she felt. Of course he did. Was Lagertha not the same to him? "I heard you cared about him. Does that not mean you will be weak?"
She laughed bitterly, her dead eyes looking over to him. "It is because I care that I will make this worse for him. If I did not care, the betrayal would not hurt and I would simply slit his throat. But this betrayal hurts, and I wish to make him suffer as I have."
He nodded again, his ocean eyes looking into hers to find any hint of weakness though he found none. "I would help you kill him." He spoke again.
The girls eyebrows furrowed in confusion, looking at the boy beside her. "Why?"
Ivar merely shrugged, as though the answer was obvious. "You are more valuable as an ally than as an enemy."
"But you killed my mother." She argued.
"And your mother threatened to kill mine." He countered, making a fair point.
Silence fell upon the two as Alfild thought upon his words. Brunhilde had always told her to rule with her head and not her heart, so perhaps that would be the best way to serve her. Instead of revenge, perhaps she could focus on getting her kingdom back.
"Alright Ivar." She answered. "Allies."
The boy grasped her hand to shake it. As he moved away, she grabbed his arm, eyes like the steel of her blade. Sharp. Dangerous. "Do not think for one second that this changes how I feel. I will kill you, I swear it."
A small smirk danced across his arrogant features. "We'll see."
