In which Freya Ylvasdottir has been prophecied by the Seer to be destined to betray her mother, Queen Ylva the Dread and Bjorn Ironside, her mother's husband, and no matter what she does to try to avoid her fate, all roads lead back to the betrayal...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
In a chapel at York, Ivar was sitting on a chair near the altar. A smile appeared on his lips as he watched as Freya was led in. He lifted his hand, signaling for the guard to leave. He nodded and with that, he walked out, leaving Ivar alone in the chapel with Freya.
"You asked to see me?" Freya asked Ivar, smiling as she walked forward.
"It seems as though lately, everyone here is afraid of me, even my own brothers. Yet you are not. Though everyone is afraid of you. All but me," Ivar explained and Freya nodded her head in response.
"Indeed," She replied, the smallest of smirks on her face as she nodded her head.
"We are expecting to be attacked by the Saxons. They have a large army. We must ask the gods for help. We must offer them a sacrifice," He informed her and Freya smiled slightly.
"Well, I would suggest not an animal, but a human," She answered in a calm tone.
"I agree," Ivar replied as he leaned forward in his seat and tilted his head slightly, "Tell me. What if I were to ask for you to be the sacrifice? What would you do?"
"I would do anything you ask me to do, Ivar, especially something like that," She admitted, earning a curious look from Ivar.
"Why is that?" He asked her lowly and Freya smiled at him.
"For it would please not only you but the gods. And the gods mean more to me than anything," She explained as she slowly walked toward him.
"I agree," Ivar agreed, smiling as Freya moved closer to him, "You would truly do anything I asked you to do?"
Knowing what Ivar was getting at, Freya's breath hitched. She stared into his eyes, feeling a sensation in her gut that she had never felt before. "Anything."
Ivar stared at Freya closely, leaning back in his seat. "Then take off your clothes," He ordered and Freya's lips curled upwards into a smirk.
She removed her shoes first and then her pants, refusing to break eye contact with him. She removed her shirt and then the wrap she had around her breasts, tossing them to the ground.
She continued to stare at Ivar, the smallest of smirks on her face. "Come closer," He insisted and Freya immediately obeyed him. She stopped when she was standing in front of him and looked down at him. "Kiss me."
"Gladly," She spoke in a seductive whisper as she sat down in his lap. She cupped his face in her hands and gently pressed her lips against his. The kiss lingered for a long moment until finally, Freya pulled away to see Ivar staring up at her with wide eyes.
His breath was shaky and Freya smiled, realizing he didn't actually expect her to obey him. "I-I don't understand," He stammered and Freya smiled down at him.
