II

1.1K 19 1
                                    

Hvitserk relieved the force of the blade, upon the neck of the wolf in sheep's clothing before him, her blank gaze chilling him. Believing the others to have retreated from the area, Ylva softly grasped hold of Hvitserk's wrist, receiving a gaze of curiosity from him before she stated coldly, with seriousness lurking in the depths of her eyes, "if you dare to touch me like that again, I will break every bone in your body," before using his hand to hike herself up, whilst he stood, stunned incredulously at the fierce childlike contour of her body.

An expression of mildly humorous surprise flashed upon the crippled boy's face as he watched the incident occur, and as the woman before him collected her bow's ammunition.

Returning back to where she previously was, following the collection of her arrows, Ylva permitted herself to a compact yet delicate smile, in response to this Hvitserk man's reaction. A vast, sweet silence crept through the air as they all
proceeded to walk (or crawl) side-by-side.


"So what are your names?" Ylva spoke to the brothers, lost in a delirious wonder, as they made their way to their home.

The older brother from before spoke with a faint tremor of amusement on his lips at how clueless the woman before him was, before naming them all. "I'm Bjorn, this is Ubbe, Hvitserk - as you already know, Sigurd and Ivar," he spoke while pointing to each of the brothers as he spoke, allowing her to put a name to the faces. "And you?" He questioned in return, taking her by surprise at the progressive conversation.

"Ylva," she responded, an unreadable expression on her face as she continued. "I probably should have mentioned that a while back," her scarlet lips curling charmingly, forcing the others to echo her expression.

As they made their way to Kattegat, the woods sang a mocking melody. The trees rustled and whispered to the stream, the river sang with it's lips to the pebbles, and the wind syllabled her name in cautious whispers, occupying her attention, while the brothers spoke to one another.

"Ylva?" She heard, forcing her out of her fathomless thoughts, to which she hummed in response with a faint trace of irritation.

Darkness was beginning to ooze out from between trees as Ubbe spoke once again, after realising how absorbed in streams of thought she was. "We're almost at Kattegat."

Kattegat. A glittering infectious smile crept upon her mouth, this was where her parents claimed to have met each other.

An air of uncanny familiarity pelted her with an interminable torrent of words, as they approached the great hall.

"Who is this Aslaug? Ylva questioned absentmindedly to receive some snickers from the boys.
"She is the Queen." Ivar plainly spoke, she noticed for the first time the whole journey.


As they entered the well-lit room, the majority of the jovial talking and laughing halted, eyes turning to them as they entered, a faint transient, wistful smile lightening her brood face.

Aslaug watched this woman before her with a tang of pity, intertwined with an abundance of curiosity.

"And what might your name be?" The Queen spoke, her words lost in the effusive air of welcome, as she sat eying the woman before her while perched on her throne.

"Ylva... Ingeborg," she spoke with uncertainty, a great pang gripping her heart as she wondered if Aslaug would know her parents.

"Ingeborg, hmm ," Aslaug repeated, with a tone of arduous admiration, the Queen's sons also seeming to radiate an understanding of Ylva's heritage.

Aslaug stepped forward and cupped Ylva's face in her hands, "your father was a great warrior, he would be proud of you." She spoke gently, staring into the girls eyes of fathomless depths of suffering, before engulfing her in a hug.

A shiver of apprehension crisped her skin, before she hugged back.

"Now we must eat." Aslaug spoke clearly, directing her words at all in the room, once she had released Ylva from the embrace. A protest wavered on her lips, though Aslaug continued to direct her to the table with the brothers already seated. Ivar was at the head of the table followed by Aslaug and Sigurd on the right, and on the left Hvitserk sat closest to Ivar, followed by Ylva, and then Ubbe. 


Ylva sat with a glassy stare of inattention, as the others dined like clockwork. The others subtly sent her looks with apprehension as she moved the food around her plate, without taking a single bite.

"Not in front of our guests!" Aslaug spoke, her voice raised and eyes pinned on Sigurd, causing Ylva's head to rotate in her direction, bringing her out of her daze.

"...at least I don't 'try' to sleep with every woman in Kattegat!" Spoke Ivar spitefully to Sigurd. How long had they been arguing for?

"'try'" Sigurd repeated with a mocking tone.
"It's not like you can even please a woman, or even sleep with one!" Sigurd declared, his smirk slowly growing into a smile, knowing that he hit a nerve.

"Sigurd!" Aslaug whispered, with utter astonishment at his words.

A sudden uncontrollable outburst of feeling mirrored Ylva's usual stature, as her nose wrinkled in disgust at Sigurd's comment. "Any woman would be fortunate to lay with a son of a King, cripple or not."

"Even if he is unable to please her?" Sigurd responded in confusion. Ylva just let out a shrug of indifference, "If the gods have allowed it." She finished, taking a bite of her bread, unaware of the stares she was receiving from those at the table, until she made eye contact with Ivar, who overcame a flame of scarlet that crept in a swift diagonal across his cheeks.

Little wolf - Ivar Lothbrok Where stories live. Discover now