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 The first night with the handsome monster before her was almost unbearable, and the second wasn't even bearable

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 The first night with the handsome monster before her was almost unbearable, and the second wasn't even bearable. Now it was close to sunset of the third day, and Ronja knew she was going crazy. She kept quiet not saying a word, after all, she was trained to this. And this wasn't her first time in prison, no she spent half of her life being locked up, but the man opposite her didn't seem to give up. Talking endlessly and making remarks that he thought were funny. She could hardly see why some thought he was a God. She stretched the chains, thinking about strangling herself.

"Can you shut up!" Ivar gave her a surprised look. She connected their eyes and gave him the coldest glare she could muster. Not that he seemed any shaken.

"You are so annoying, has anyone ever told you that on a man who is wearing shitted pants you talk too much." She knew insulting him with something that was probably the Fate of the Gods was very low but he deserved it. It seemed to shut him up, but then a smirk appeared on his face.

Ronja banged her head on the wood behind her. She was so frustrated, and his voice was so annoying that she couldn't tune him out. Closing her eyes she tried to focus her mind. Her nails dug into her palm, trying to control the urge to throw herself mercilessly on the chains and scream at him.

"You know you remind me of Valkyrie," her brows furrowed, "not only because of the long hair but the way you represent yourself as if death itself couldn't touch you. As if death is at your command." Her eyes connected with his light ones and she took a deep breath. Did he just compare her to a servant of Odin?

"If I was the chooser of the slain you would already be in Niflheim" —she paused going with her tongue over her teeth— "but don't worry we'll meet there." He gave her another smirk and she answered with a scoff. She put her elbow on her thigh and leaned onto it. Her eyes not leaving his.

"Do you think your brothers still love you?" She could see as his brows furrowed. He didn't understand why she asked this. "Do you think your wife loved you?" She could see the slip as he blinked a couple of times.

"I guess it's true what they say about you. That you are just a weak man!" Ivar shook his head with an ironic smile as he mulled over her words. He gave her a taunting smirk, "You know you are probably going to be killed right?" She averted her eyes, those dark eyes searching the ground. Then a laugh bubbled past her lips. Ivar felt as if that sound was the sound of a Valkyrie calling him home.

"I believe that we choose what path to walk down, not the Gods. And the only way we grow is by ourselves." Ivar's eyes seemed to be electric. His feet pushed up as he bent them and leaned forward onto them. He could hardly find a comfortable position because of his height. His eyes searched over her body, he seemed to be surviving a different type of torture.

The feeling in the half part of his body seemed to not calm down. He liked what he saw but this was something different. This was lust and he didn't feel that often. And even if he did, he barely subordinated to it.

"From where does Torvi know you?" Her head was still hunched back as she looked onto the roof. She straightens and her curls bounced around her face. "She was married to my father, which was a very long time ago." Ivars brows furrowed as he mulled over her words for a moment.

"You mean Jarl Borg, the one who died by blood eagle?!" Her eyes distanced as she seemed to gaze far away.

"My father was a stupid man, but we don't choose our parents." He didn't seem fazed by the cold look she sent his way. But after saying those words he did regret them as he saw her building a tall wall around her emotions.

"Then why do you hate her. It wasn't her fault your father gone against mine." The rolling of her eyes didn't go unnoticed, but he pretended like it didn't happen. Her hand tucked at the shackles at her legs. Marks were already forming on her ankles. They were dark red and her skin seemed so irritated. Everything frustrated her, and her mind was so jumbled by thoughts she wanted to yell so loud Haldor in the mountains would hear her. Maybe if she did he would come. But she doubted that, their last goodbye wasn't amicable.

"I do not fault her for that." She didn't elaborate on the matter as her eyes fixated onto the wood.

"I think in a way my brothers do love me" —his eyes caught hers and a flame ignited in her stomach— "I wouldn't be alive if they didn't." He let out an almost embarrassed laugh. A smirk appeared on her lips, and for a moment he thought what peccant thoughts were chasing around inside her mind.

"And as for my wife, I believe she too loved me, until I made a mistake." Ronja closed her eyes, and the hand on her stomach twitched. Of course, she knew what mistake he made. It has been almost five months since Freydis was killed, and Kattegat was taken over. She did not want to think about the bloodcurdling act he did to his child.

"When I found out she was disloyal I was so furious but I wanted to give her benefit of the doubt, and then I found out that the child wasn't mine I was blinded by rage. And I left it in the woods." She didn't understand why he was telling her all this, they weren't friends nor were they allies.

"How did you know it wasn't yours?" And she didn't know why she was asking that either. His hand appeared to be shaking and his eyes seemed to fill with tears. She wasn't sure if he wanted to cry for the baby or himself.

"I didn't come inside her anytime we did it." Her brows furrowed, why didn't he. She was his wife, men seemed to put children into their wives on the wedding night. "The Gods punished us for her crime, he was deformed." Why didn't he do something sooner if he knew the child wasn't his.

"But I wanted a child so much" —he looked into her eyes and those blues of his almost made her pity him— "My brothers started families, they had friends, people who supported them and I felt alone. I wanted someone who would stay for me and not for the power I could give them." Ronja knew that the next question she had no right of saying but as always her curiosity won.

"Why didn't you erm—" she didn't have a chance to be more awkward as his laugh boomed in the room. And it only seemed to quieten down by minutes. She didn't want to admit it, but she did find his laugh quite melodic. They held the scorching eye contact again before a concerning noise brought them both to their senses. A chill run over her back as she remembered a familiar situation. She gave an empty look Ivar's way before the door was unlocked and a leather-covered man stepped inside.

*

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