Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The lights were dim in the church, but Alfild knew Ivar was still there. His schemes and concepts never seemed to cease, and of late he was rarely away from the brutes that followed him everywhere. Brutes that once followed her. She yearned for their next battle, for the next time at which she could earn the respect of these men. Perhaps it wasn't the respect she was searching for. No, it was something that made them far more cognizant of her needs. Fear. Fear was what they had once felt when she strolled through the streets. Now all they saw was weakness. They saw her like any other girl in love with a great man. But Alfild did not wish to be known as a girl in love with a great man. She did not wish to be a princess in need of saving, or a queen following a king. She wished to stand with the men that wore crowns. She wished to be king, such as they. To be respected and feared so long as she lived, and her love for Ivar was compromising that.
She stopped outside the church, voices raised inside making her cease. She couldn't quite hear their words, but they sounded angry. Hvitserk and Ivar, no doubt. Soon, one of the voices was silenced, and Alfild listened as footsteps approached the door. Her slender frame hid in the shadows behind the wall as the old door creaked open. With a huff, she watched Hvitserk depart. Though she would usually approach and see if he was alright, she decided that she would actually achieve what she had originally come here to do.
With steady steps, she walked inside. Ivar looked tired, stressed, as though he hadn't slept in months. She recalled that feeling well. Before she'd allowed weakness, she was like that too.
"Ivar?" She spoke, making his eyes turn to hers. He gave her a quizzical look but before he could even speak, she'd grasped his hand and pulled him up to stand. "Come with me."
"Where?" He sighed, seeming utterly uninterested in any potential outcome.
"Will you just trust me?" She rolled her eyes in return, stubbornness covering her. It was true, she'd tried to live out the sweet lulls of an early relationship with Ivar, though such a time never occurred. The two were far too stubborn to ever see eye to eye, and Alfild far too hot-headed and impatient to deal with Ivar's moods.
"Why? Where are we going?" He repeated.
The girl crossed her arms in infuriation. "Must I threaten you to get you to do as I ask?"
The Prince sighed deeply and dejectedly as the girl grinned, knowing she had won. Quickly, she grasped his hand and led him outside.
It wasn't long, of course, until Ivar realised where she was leading him. He'd dreaded this very moment for weeks now. As she stopped outside her door, so did he, ready to drag himself back if needs must. Though the Prince wished with all his being that he could enter, that they could live out a normal life, he knew that such a thing would be impossible. And that only filled him with yet more resentment.
"What now?" Alfild turned, a playful smile tracing across her lips as she looked back at him.
Ivar just stared at her, pale faced with eyes of utter discomfort. He wanted to please her, and he knew she wouldn't take what he had to say well. "Alfild I-" He began, eyes fixed on the ajar door, specifically on the room beyond.
Suddenly, the girl followed his gaze and her eyes went wide with a knowing look. She turned back, hand grasping his once more. "It's okay." She said, stepping closer again. "It's okay."
"What is?" He straightened, looking at her with suspicious eyes.
Alfild spoke gently, her green orbs gentle and kind. "I already know, Ivar." She explained. "I've known for months."
"And you still love me?" He looked to her in pure shock. Just those words alone were enough to break the girl's heart. Knowing that he was so afraid that she wouldn't love him for such a thing, knowing that it was just another reason for him to feel ashamed. But ashamed of what? She saw no issue, and though she understood his feelings, she loathed them. She loathed the fact that he had ever been made to feel inadequate for such a thing.
She smiled, her hand gently pressing against the side of his face with a tender touch. "Of course I do." She said calmly, making his orbs become vast oceans of emotion once more. "I simply brought you here to sleep."
"I thought that leaders didn't have time to sleep." He mocked her words in the way one does when they're uncomfortable.
She smiled again, "You're not a king yet Ivar, you still have time to rest."
"And if we're attacked?" He suggested.
She shrugged, eyes lit with a mischevious flame, "Then I suppose we'll die."
Her smirk grew as she noticed how unamused he seemed by her statement, but soon the pair had entered. The girl waited, cup of mead pressed to her lips, as Ivar undid his braces. She watched with intrigue, before slowly pulling him closer to her. Her eyes were like daggers, sharp and cunning. It was something that had drawn the boy to her since they first met.
"You never have to feel shame around me, Ivar." She whispered in the dim candlelight. She drew back slowly, the boys eyes boring into her own in the dark night. With a gentle kiss, she lay down, shortly joined by Ivar - who pulled her close to him as he lay. Her head rested over his heartbeat, listening carefully to it. With every beat, she became certain that both their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And, in the silence that followed, she heard its beat slow and steady as the Prince fell into a sleep. A sleep that wasn't filled with nightmares as it had been before. Rather, it was a dream the was filled with emerald eyes and the smile of a young queen that he'd grown to care for.
