FLAMES OF DREAMS SERIES: GODS & MONSTERS [READER x IVAR]

CHAPTER 1: END OF THE PAST

You weren't foolish enough to think the kingdom of Essex would be unharmed by the Northerners wreaking havoc all through England.

Two kings had already fallen under their wrath - based of all the stories you had heard of them, they would not stop before gaining whatever they were there for. As their neighbouring kingdom, you knew it was only a matter of time before the heathens would come knocking on the gates of Essex. Everyone in the whole kingdom knew it - stories of the savages from Norway had been circling around ever since you were a child.

It was under the hands of one of them your father had fallen along with many other men and women. They had called him Ragnar Lothbrok, and even though no man's death brought you no joy a part of you was glad to hear of his demise. Essex had no part in his death, yet you knew his sons would not care for that. They had already pillaged many villages and cities in their path, managing to even gain the city of York which was one of the strongest ones in the whole country. Essex in its whole glory did not stand a chance.

It didn't matter to you how many times your sister or your advisors pleaded with you, you would not work out any deal with the Northerners. You had never begged anyone in your life, and you weren't about to do so now.

"I may have forgotten our history my lords, but I have not forgotten my promise. The Northerners will gain this crown only when me or my sister are dead, not a moment sooner or later." You assured them, bringing their frightened faces a sense of comfort. If their young queen would die for them, they too would die for her.

***

It didn't take long for the famous sons of Ragnar Lothbrok to appear in your kingdom. You were sure they would attack Essex without any remorse. Instead, they wanted to meet and negotiate some kind of peace treaty. They would leave Essex in exchange of some land they could call their own. Of course in order to negotiate, hostages needed to be exchanged.

"I don't understand why do you need to go." Darelle, your younger sister by three years, exclaimed nervously. You didn't bother to look at her, focusing instead on hiding your dagger.

"I need to know how strong their army is. You know that." You replied, stopping only to let out a sigh. "My sweet sister, you do not need to worry. They will not harm me."

"You cannot be certain of that." She replied, forcing you to stop. Your heart ached to see your sister with tears in her eyes, but you had to force yourself to think of your kingdom before her.

The Northerners had never seen the queen of Essex before, hence it was easy for you to pretend to be the princess instead. You would gain a way into their camp and gain a way to see for yourself how strong their army was. That was your plan. You had made clear to Darelle not to accept any deal the Northerners offered. If anything went as smoothly as you hoped, you would be back in your castle the following day.

"Darelle, everything will be fine. We both have a role to play in this. You know yours." Wrapping your arms around her, your sister let out a small sob. A loud horn alerted you that the heathens were now standing behind your gate. A small smile to your sister made her realize that she needed to act like a queen now; she instantly wiped her tears away, sending you a small nod before the two of you settled into silence, both of you deep in your thoughts neither of you dared to speak aloud.

When the gates slowly opened, you were surprised to see no more than five Northerners present. A part of you was disappointed to see that they were regular men like the ones living in your kingdom. Stories circling around England had always painted them as something inhumane, more God than men. Looking at them you had to admit that they didn't look anything important, perhaps a little taller and more muscular, but nothing else.

"Which one of you will stay here?" Your sister asked when the two of you - accompanied by a bunch of guards - rode closer to the figures. A couple of them seemed to be in an argument with each other - from their conversation you could clearly understand that one of them called Hvitserk wanted to be the one, yet his brother Ubbe argued that he was a better choice. Finally, they agreed on Hvitserk staying in Essex.

You had no complications to understand what the heathens were saying - the kings and queens had been so frightened of their attacks that they had started to teach their sons and daughters the language of Northerners. Your mother had done the same, meaning that you and your sister had no problems to communicate with them.

You sent a glance to your sister before riding forward just as the heathen named Hvitserk did the same. When you passed him the two of you glanced at each other; your eyes seethed with anger while his didn't. He had a rather playful smirk on his face, as if he didn't have a care in the world. You only wished you could be as carefree as he was. Your duties as queen - and the burden of the crown - didn't let you act like he did. Your kingdom had always come first, and it always would.

***

You wanted to let out a cry of despair when you finally reached the camp of the invaders. Looking at the number of the men and women it was clear that - if they decided to attack - Essex would fall.

It seemed as if everyone in the camp stopped whatever they were doing and focused on you instead. Some of them moved closer to you, glaring at you and trying to look as threatening as they could. Ubbe guided you towards a tent before telling you to enter. Without any complaints, you did.

There was not a single person present except for you and him. There were evidence of a feast that probably took place last night, but other than that there was not much. You were about to ask Ubbe the purpose of being there if it wasn't for a voice yelling out first.

"Leave us." You heard the loud voice of metal before a man appeared. He didn't pay you much attention, focusing instead of Ubbe and sending him a glare. It was evident the two of them had a rivalry going on - Ubbe was about to argue but decided against it, leaving without any word to you.

The man in front of you was obviously some kind of a leader among the Northmen. His eyes full of authority, he didn't take much notice of you, focusing instead of his walk towards a bench in the middle of the tent. You simply observed him with silence. A part of you wondered whether the man in front of you was the famous Northernern named Ivar the Boneless, the one you had heard so much of. According to your spies - as well as refugees from Wessex and East Anglia - he was the one to look out for.

"So you're the famous princess of Essex Y/N the people speak so highly of." He casually commented as he had taken his seat, throwing his crutch aside. His eyes pierced into yours, yet like Hvitserk's, there was no anger in them.

"You have me at a disadvantage. You know of me, yet I do not know of you." You announced, taking a seat from across of him when he motioned for you to do so. A smirk played on his face when he stood up, bowing slightly in mockery.

"Ivar the Boneless at your service, Your Highness." He voiced loudly, clearly proud of his ancestry. It was when he took a seat that he finally observed the young woman in front of him. She was the most beautiful woman Ivar had ever laid his eyes on; it was as if she had been sent by the Gods themselves. But what he didn't know that he had a queen in his hands, and that queen would never give him what he wanted without a fight.