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"What did you do?" Their voices echoed down the hall as I sat, my eyes rating from the window to the door that they would soon enter through.
"Nothing, she just agreed to help us." Hvitserk explained, though his brothers didn't seem convinced.
"What does she want?" Ivar asked pointedly. "Why would she just change her mind? She wants something."
"Maybe she just wants to help us." The middle boy responded, making his older and younger brothers both stare at him in disbelief.
"She wants something." Ivar declared finally.
"Then we should find out what it is." Ubbe concurred.
"Are you two not just glad she's joined us?" Hvitserk groaned.
"No, what good is her help if we can't trust her? What if she tries to kill us, did you think about that? Hm?" Ivar responded, before Ubbe shoved open the double doors and the three of them stood glaring at eachother in the doorway.
"Do many people try to kill you, Ivar?" I narrowed my gaze at the men, watching them each closely. Of all of them, the youngest seemed the biggest threat. Ubbe seemed logical, rational, fair. Ivar seemed paranoid, arrogant, and hot tempered. I only received a small grunt in response as he crawled beside his brothers to the table. I watched their every motion, studying them carefully. I could see every hidden weapon on Ivar's person, deciding simply to leave it be and to see what he would do. If many did try to kill him, at least I understood why.
"Our brother told us that you agreed to join us," Ubbe began calmly. "May I ask what changed your mind?"
For a moment I paused, thinking through an appropriate answer to the question. What answer could I give them? What could I say? "I don't particularly like Christians." I answered flatly, sipping a glass of water calmly.
"So why did you reject us yesterday?" Ivar pointed out, glaring at me with distrust.
"Do you wish for my help or not?" I glared back. They were princes, sons of Ragnar, but I was a Queen. I was a noble by birth, a witch by blood, and a queen by right. And I outranked each of them.
"Thank you for agreeing to help us." Hvitserk spoke up, hitting his brother under the table. "He's just like this with everyone."
I hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to watch the trio like a hawk before standing up from the large oak table. "We leave in three days." I ordered, before walking away without giving any of them chance to argue.
As I had already mentioned, I was Queen.
"Do you trust them?" My right hand asked, a woman with warm brown skin and long braided locks that ran down her hair. Her eyes were deep dark brown, a comforting darkness that seemed to express so much and pull you in. Although I trusted none, the closest I'd ever come to trusting a person was with her. She was a little younger than me, and her family were well to-do tradesmen from distant lands. Sadly, however, she was a rarity in the gloomy sea of Welsh nobility and I had met no one like her before. No one here had. And as someone alone in this world, a rarity myself, something about the girl made me relate to her. She was like the younger sister I never had. And she was the only one that I ever let close to me. The only one allowed in my chambers. The only one I spoke freely with.
"No." I answered. "They're Ragnarssons."
"But King Ragnar-" she began in the dead King's defence.
Slowly I held up a hand to tell her to cease. "It is better to be paranoid, than to be betrayed." I told her firmly, before making my way towards my chambers to gather my things and prepare. It had been a long time since I'd made preparations for war, a long time since I'd fought. But in one way or another, I'd been fighting all my life. Fighting was in blood, it was who I am. And I would have to keep fighting no matter what. But as I walked away, my sight turned back towards the room that I had just exited. And for the briefest moment, my eyes caught his once more. Hvitserk Ragnarsson. For some odd reason the young man interested me. And I couldn't exactly even place why.
