Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The brothers sat around a table in the center of the Saxon Villa. Alfild sat alone, in the corner of the gathering and watched the scene unfold before her. The air felt heavy, as though one knew what was about to happen.
All night, Alfild had sat and listened. She enjoyed watching as everyone around her danced like puppets. She enjoyed the intricacy of relations, watching them rise and fall and knowing things that no one else knew. She liked to watch, because knowledge was power.
Her emerald eyes were shooting between the brothers so she did not even notice the man that slid next to her. And then he spoke, dragging her attention from the sons of Ragnar.
"Don't you find these Prince's boring, my Queen?" Erik asked.
Her gaze shot momentarily to the man, green catching a glimpse if grey. "Boring?"
"They argue, bicker like children. Do you not have better things to do than support their egos?" Erik queried.
"No." Was all she said. She could smell the ale on his breath, see the drowsy look in his eye. Slowly, he began to move his hand towards her leg. Before he could even touch her, she grabbed his hand and twisted. Her eyes were still focused on the arguing brothers.
What followed was something Alfild saw coming, but prayed would never happen. Bjorn announced that he wished to return to the Mediterranean and Halfdan agreed to go with him instead of with his brother. Ivar didn't wish to leave England and he certainly wasn't going to farm with his brothers. So, he raised the question of who would continue their raid.
"I do not want to follow you." Sigurd spoke up. Alfild did not have to be a genius to see where this was going. She knew something bad was about to take place, she just had no idea the magnitude of the situation. "You're insane. You have the mind of a child."
"And all you do is play music, Sigurd." Ivar replied, seemingly unfazed by being called mad.
"I'm just as much a son of Ragnar as you are." Sigurd objected.
"I'm not so sure," Ivar smirked wickedly. "As far as I know, Ragnar didn't play the oud. And he certainly didn't offer his are to other men."
This comment made Alfild sigh deeply as she brought her palm up to her forehead. Men were such fools, she thought.
"You make me laugh, just like you do when you crawl around like a baby." Sigurd replied cruelly.
Any man or woman with eyes in their head would know that enough was enough. Alfild stared up at Sigurd, silently begging him to silence himself. She could feel the anger radiating from Ivar, even all the way over to where she was. She knew Sigurd was talented at pushing his buttons and making him furious. She prayed he wouldn't say anymore, for she could see something awful occurring if she did.
"Shut your mouth!" Ivar yelled.
At this point, Bjorn decided to chirp in. "Enough!" He tried. But it was no use. Things had already set in motion. Nothing could be done now.
"This has nothing to do with you." Ivar bellowed back at his eldest brother.
"What's the matter Ivar?" Sigurd spoke again. Alfild wanted to shut him up, but there was nothing she could do. "Can't take it? It must be hard for you now that mummy's gone, knowing that she's the only one who ever loved you."
Alfild was shocked, her mouth hung agape. And before anyone could react, Ivar had already been sent over the edge. Ubbe tried to reason with him, telling him to stop, but nothing could get past. Before Ivar could even register what he was doing, the axe had left his grip and landed firmly in his brother's chest. Everyone stared in horror. Sigurd slowly looked down, blood now pouring from the wound, and he took out the axe. Ivar stared at his brother, looking as shocked and horrified as all else. He couldn't believe what had just happened, it just all happened so fast.
Alfild released her grip on Erik's arms. Her body froze with shock as she stared.
Slowly, Sigurd stumbled toward his little brother, axe in hand. The life slowly drained from his body. Just as he was about to reach Ivar, and it looked as though the world would lose two ragnarssons in one day, he fell to the ground. Ubbe and Hvitserk rushed to their dying brother, tears brimming everyone's eyes as they watched the scene unfold. Alfild's eyes fixed on the youngest son as he sat helplessly, knowing what he had done and that it could never be undone. For the first time since she'd known him, Alfild saw true remorse on Ivar's face. She saw humanity. And somehow, she understood.
As the crowd cleared, Ivar fled the persecution of his remaining brothers in search of solitude to reflect on the previous moments. His blue eyes darted up when he heard footsteps approaching, only to be met by the familiar green eyes of Alfild The Merciless.
"What do you want?" He asked harshly, perhaps harsher than he intended although he was grateful for that. Right now, he did not feel like showing weakness or vulnerability.
Slowly, she stepped closer and took a seat beside him. "I'm sorry." She said calmly. Her words were concise and simple, though somehow profound and unexpected.
"What for?" The boy replied.
"It wasn't your fault." She spoke gently. Ivar looked at her with a confused and dumbfounded expression, as though her words made no sense. And so, she continued. "I saw it in your eyes when it happened. You didn't mean to kill him, you were as shocked as everyone else. It's not your fault."
"But I killed him." Ivar repeated.
"There's a difference between being a monster, and being human. Humans make mistakes, monsters do cruel things because they enjoy it. You are not a monster yet, Ivar." She told him.
"And how would you know that?" His tone was sharper now, clearly feeling a mild sense of discomfort.
"Because I am a monster." She answered.Ivar's gaze moved towards the girl. For a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, but what could he say? As he processed his words, Alfild began again. "I was happy once. I was normal." She said gently. She didn't look angry or upset when she began, in fact Ivar saw a look in her eyes that he rarely saw. A look that he knew always lingered just behind the facade of strength and anger. With a heavy sigh and shaky breath, she continued, "But this world has a talent for making good people bad. You have been through more than most, and yet when you killed your brother - whom tormented you daily - you felt remorse. That is the difference between you and a monster. That is how I know there is hope for you, that you are still a good person."
"You're not a monster." He mumbled so quietly that it could barely be heard.
Slowly, she reached out her hand and placed it on his, a sympathetic smile gracing her lips. "You were born to lead, Ivar. And after seeing what happened today, I no longer doubt that."
Honestly I liked Sigurd. I kinda got how he felt, being like the forgotten kid and I really felt bad for him (though I did hate it when he was being a dick).
But I was mostly just pissed because of how much of a throwaway character he became. Like, I was so ready for an epic Sigurd Snake In The Eye storyline and they went and killed him. Imagine how many seasons they could've followed his stories from the sagas for!! He was such a legend and he ended up just becoming fuel for Ivar's story even though Sigurd was alive for so much longer and so he had so much more story to tell. Like, I love Ivar but I wish they'd kept the brothers together like they were historically.
