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Alfild lay wrapped in fur. Her eyes flickered under their lids with dreams, but her body remained still. She'd been like this for days. The doctors were hopeful that she'd survive, though they were unsure what damage had been caused. Would she even be the same when she woke up?
Many of her warriors had visited her, all of them praying for her recovery. Ubbe had visited many evenings, trying to keep her company while he forced his little brother to leave her and get some rest. Hvitserk had been much the same, he had talked to her about events and tried to talk her through her unending slumber. And then there was Ivar.
He had barely left her side. He watched every flicker of her eyes, every stir or jolt in her fingertips, in the hopes that he might see those beautiful emeralds once more. His brothers were concerned, never knowing him to behave in such a way.
After Alfild's coma, he had hunted down her traitor. Erik lasted mere seconds before his screams echoed through the woods ensuring he would never enter Valhalla. Ivar assumed as much would happen when he decided to Blood Eagle the man.
While she'd been gone, the Army had stabilized in York. That being said, they were beginning to run low on foods and supplies. Ivar had been pushed to the top, everyone now wishing to follow him in the absence of any kings or Queen's. Even Alfild's men and women had turned to him. For that, he was grateful, and she would be too if only she knew.
Presently, Ivar sat with the queen. He'd asked her for guidance on what she would do, hoping perhaps it could spark some ideas within him. She always had that effect. Together they were like an unstoppable force. But they were not together. He was alone, and she could not help him. So, instead, he rested his head against the side of the bed with tired eyes. He hadn't slept much since becoming leader. And though his arrogance was beginning to shine through to all, he felt a strange comfort in Alfild's presence. There was no arrogance here, only hope that she would recover soon and they would lead their armies to avenge his mother.
Alfild lay unaware. Her mind was lost in time, replaying memory after memory from her life. Some were memories she cherished, others she wished she could forget.
Some were memories that she never thought of before, that seemed to comfort her above all others now.
"Why does no one use your title?" Ivar asked curiously, ocean blue meeting mossy green.
Alfild shrugged, a faint smile on her lips, "Do I seem merciless to you?"
The dark haired man was a little too quick to answer for her taste, though she let it slide and even chuckled at his answer. "Sometimes."
"Do I scare you, Ivar?" She grinned like a dragon.
But Ivar's smirk did not falter. "No." He stated calmly, as though he'd finally met his match. "You intrigue me."
"I hear I'm quite intriguing." Alfild nodded in agreement, making the boy smile.
"Do I scare you?" He asked in turn.
Alfild chuckled quietly, a smile still firm on her lips. "Nothing frightens me anymore, Ivar. But that does not mean you are not a worthy adversary."
"I'm your adversary still?" He mused.
"It is those we trust most that are our biggest adversaries Ivar." She answered.
"You trust me?"
She met his gaze once more. "You better not betray me."
But Ivar felt as though he had betrayed her. He found her bleeding out when he swore to protect her. And now she was here, all because he had not been there to stop this.
But at least Erik got what he deserved.
Ivar never liked Erik. He was handsome, used both his legs, spoke to Alfild with disrespect. He couldn't be sad the man was gone. Especially after this.
He was jolted up by a soft breathy voice that was like music to his ears. "Ivar?" She whispered. His name gliding off her tongue with a majestic beauty.
He looked up at the girl, her emeralds fragile and tired but gleaming with ferocity still.
"What happened?" She asked with furrowed brows.
"You were stabbed by Erik." The Prince sneered bluntly. He saw by her reaction that he probably should've spoken with more sensitivity, though in all honesty he wasn't sure how.
"Where is he?" She whispered furiously, voice still too weak to yell. "I'll kill him!"
"You've been away a while, my queen." He answered. "I've already had him blood eagled."
This sent a smile up to the woman's lips. A genuine smile. Ivar couldn't recall a time he made someone smile. Nor could he recall a time he'd seen someone look so beautiful and fierce while lying at deaths door. She was a sight to behold. That much he knew.
"You blood eagled him for me?" She asked, a little stunned.
"You're a queen, he tried to kill you. It seemed right." Was all the boneless Prince answered with, now avoiding her gaze. That wasn't why Erik was blood eagled. He was blood eagled because Ivar was furious. Furious that Alfild lay weak and barely breathing. Furious that he could do nothing to help her. He wanted revenge. And Alfild could see that in his eyes as he avoided her gaze.
Slowly, she reached out her hand to his. "I told you not to be afraid."
"I wasn't." He answered, perhaps too quickly.
She chuckled slightly at his answer, making the pain from her injury shoot through her side. "You're a complex man, Ivar Ragnarsson." She paused. "But I'm glad you're here."
"I'm glad you're alive." He muttered quietly.
"When I am better, we will take back Kattegat and Hrafnland." She decreed.
"When you're better, you should rest." He objected.
"Queens rarely have the luxury of such things. At least let me look forward to our war." She smiled, earning a small smile from her friend.
