Virago - Ivar The Boneless

Reminders and Fleeting Regrets

Iona stood in the crowd of people who were listening to Ivar. He made a statement regarding how great the army was and how much more he would like to attack. The crowd cheered at him before the Ragnarssons returned to their own conversation.

Carrying her metal cup, she walked several paces before refilling her cup that was now empty. Knocking it back, she refilled it as she heard Ivar's voice again. She looked up at him, there was so much passion in him as he spoke.

"Who among you will follow me?" He started to stand from his seat as he spoke to the army. "Who will follow me into battle? For the love of fame and for the love of Odin and Valhalla?!"

Little Bear knew he was dangerous, she watched as he stood up, being the leader was something that worked for him. He had an intensity that was much stronger than his brothers, none of them seemed to crave that acceptance that he did.

Holding her hands tightly around the cup she stared up at the blue-eyed one. Seeing him like this got to her. It got to her because she knew how he felt, she wanted to be accepted, she wanted more than this. She would follow him into battle, follow him to her death, follow him anywhere.

"Don't do this Ivar," Sigurd spoke up just enough that Iona could hear it. She was listening intently though, "We are all sons of Ragnar, we have to stick together."

Ivar quickly responded, his reply sharp and witty. "Frankly dear Sigurd, I don't care what you think." Ivar stared at his brother, "The truth is I wouldn't even piss down your throat if your lungs were on fire." To show what he meant he tipped his mead out of his cup.

Around Iona, there were laughs from the army as they listened. She had not realised that so many people were interested in what they had to say.

She stepped towards the table where Harold and Halfdan were sitting, the brothers moving over and letting her sit between them. She noticed how awkward it was for the other brothers at the table with Ivar and Sigurd. Ubbe looked downtrodden, Hvitserk was cutting his food with a small hand knife which he kept close to him and Bjorn just looked bored with the whole thing.

At the beginning of the evening, her brother had offered for her to sit with them, she refused not wanting to get in the way of their brotherly bond over the battle they had won. She had no other place here though, she did not belong. Sitting between King Harald and his brother was strange but they welcomed her and Harold even put some food in front of her as she smiled up at him. 

"Well, maybe that's because you're not really a man, are you, Boneless?"

Her eyes widened as she looked at Ivar. He looked shocked that Sigurd had spoken to him that way, that he had revealed something so personal in front of everyone.

She heard someone else speaking but didn't hear the words as she watched Ivar's face fall. He hated the humiliation, he hated the way Sigurd treated him after all these years. The rage and anger bubbled inside of him, eating him alive. No one else seemed to look in his direction as Bjorn jumped up riling up the crowd taking the attention off Ivar and Sigurd.

Hvitserk looked up at the blonde, he noticed she was staring at Ivar, his eyes followed hers seeing the contorted rage that was burying his youngest brother. 

"-the death of their father," Bjorn finished his sentence as he finished hugging Halfdan.

Iona looked at her brother as Ivar began to speak.

"Poor Bjorn, it is you who doesn't want to keep the army together. It is you that wants to go away to sunny places. Everyone else can follow me," Ivar was quite clear in his words.

Little Bear was wide-eyed when she heard a bang on the table. She looked over at Sigurd who stood from the table, there was so definite sass in his voice when he spoke to his brother. "I do not want to follow you, Ivar." Sigurd looked out at the crowd for a moment before turning back to Ivar, "You are crazy. You have the mind of a child-"

"And all you do is play music, Sigurd." Iona watched as Ivar struggled with his anger.

Sigurd spoke back, "I'm just as much a son of Ragnar as you are." He lifted his cup to his lips, drinking his mead as Ivar argued back.

"I'm not so sure. As far as I remember Ragnar didn't play the lute and he certainly didn't offer his arse to other men!"

The crowd laughed and jeered at the words that left the lips of Ivar.

Sigurd glanced in the direction of Little Bear before turning back to Ivar. "I know what you're doing," he pointed at the blonde as he spoke, "But she-"

"She nothing!" Ivar snapped getting the attention of everyone around them. "You are this close!" He held up his fingers just as Sigurd began to speak again.

Sigurd stared his brother down, Iona noticed people were staring waiting for the next words to leave Sigurd's mouth. She was waiting the most, how dare he speak about her in front of all these people. "She was certainly not saying these things to be when she was beneath me, ask her how much of a man I am. I know how to satisfy a woman, we all know you cannot."

Little Bear's eyes widened as Bjorn looked at her, "My brother?" He asked her, the arguing behind them drowned out by the seriousness in Bjorn's eyes. Walking towards his sister, he stood in front of her table, "You and him?"

Shaking her head, she kept her lips pressed tightly together, she couldn't speak right now. 

"Shut your mouth!" Ivar's voice brought the attention back to them, Bjorn turning around to see what had changed. 

Iona got to her feet as her brother tried to intercept the argument between Ivar and Sigurd. 

Walking around the table, Iona looked back at the top table where the Ragnarsson's sat, stopping when Ivar snapped at Bjorn. "This had nothing to do with you!" 

"What's the matter Ivar? You can't take it," Sigurd teased his younger brother with a smirk. 

Ubbe had listened long enough, Ivar was growing more and more wound up by the second. "Ivar, do not listen to him." Ubbe was cool and calm, hoping that Ivar's anger would be something the cripple could overcome. 

"No, I guess it must be hard for now that your mummy's dead, knowing she's the only one who ever really loved you."

Ivar's nose wrinkled as the rage spread across his face. 

"Ivar!" Ubbe shouted as Ivar picked up his axe from the table. "Ivar!" 

It was too late, Ivar was too quick having thrown the axe at his brother this time making sure he hit his target, a cry of anger leaving Ivar's lips as the axe lodged in the torso of Sigurd. 

Everyone watched, gasps and chatter was heard from the crowd almost in disbelief in what the cripple had done. 

The eyes of Iona were fast to move from all four of the brothers who were the centre of attention. Steadying himself, Sigurd pulled the axe from his skin, his top was already covered in blood around the wound area as he stared at Ivar. 

Hvitserk and Ubbe watched on, almost disbelieving what they were seeing. 

Sigurd stumbled a little before holding up the axe and walking around the table towards his younger brother. Iona watched as Ivar shifted nervously in his seat as Sigurd approached him. 

Then Sigurd fell down to his knees before falling onto the ground flat in front of him. 

People in the crowd gasped, Ubbe and Hvitserk rushed around to the aid of their wounded brother. King Harold and Halfdan were now standing watching on, the drama before them keeping them interested. 

"No, no." Ubbe's voice was firm as he checked on his brother before both Hvitserk and Ubbe looked up at Ivar. 

Iona's attention was only on Ivar though, she noticed the way his face changed when he realised what he had actually done. Laying on the floor by his feet was the body of his brother. His eyes scanned the crowd, a look of regret on his face before it was washed away as he looked away from his brothers.