2 book of the series
Irvina was always a religious woman. So far North, people believed more than down South. Every one of her decisions was first at least twice consulted with her Seeress. So when the lost raven-haired woman sailed to her shores, i...
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Ronja barely wasted time for setting the wedding day. Irvina was pleased that the weather was nice and Frigga's-Day was perfect for a wedding. She was also ecstatic to be the one to put the kransen onto her friend's head. Even though she was not married, nor her mother, she was allowed to spend her time with them by Ronja. Who barely followed any rules.
The ceremony was beautiful. Ronja held Ivar's retrieved ancestral sword from Bjorn, showing trust for their future child. Ronja then held out, to Ivar a sword from Haldor. Ivar seemed to be barely containing his happiness. The rings they exchanged were simple, and Irvina gazed with fondness as they sealed their vows. And as he made sure to safely guide Ronja over the threshold, Irvina's heart fluttered for them.
They both danced, the whole feast in full swing. Few men wrestled to entertain the guests, and as Irvina gazed at Ronja, she felt happy. The broken woman that once arrived at her doorsteps found love. Her eyes moved to Halfdan. He was wrestling with another male, already in a mood from a few of the mead that he drank. Once he sent him to the ground, the audience cheered. He flexed, earning more booming yells. They made eye contact, Irvina clapping lightly to his victory. He stepped towards her avoiding the few people clapping him on his bareback.
Of course, he was half-naked. Irvina had to admit that she enjoyed the view. His muscled torso seemed to tighten once he stepped closer to her. He stood above her with a victorious smirk. Then he leaned forward, connecting their lips. Irvina closed her eyes in pleasure. Both of them barely cared who learned about them. Not that they were any secret before.
"Please, spare my brother," he whispered over her lips. She hated that he asked such a question before everyone. This subject should've been discussed in private. But she knew that this conversation was a long time coming. Irvina opened her eyes, gazing into his. She truly thought about it, but before she could answer, Sigrún poked her. The Volva leaned over her cushion.
"Gorm needs to speak with you. Now, my Queen!" Irvina turned to her, looking her up and down. It looked like an emergency. She turned to the pleading man before her. "We'll talk about it later," Halfdan nodded, glad that she even considered it.
As she walked out, she could feel the stares and whispers. "What happened?" She asked once they stepped into the fresh air.
"Irvina," she just now noticed Gorm, "There has been an attack on the prison cell." Irvina hurried away, ignoring how Gorm fired from the wall to follow her. Once she stepped into the room, she gasped. The walls were covered in blood. The muddy ground colored with crimson red. The smell. Irvina was forced to cover her nose to stop from gagging. The smell of blood was so prominent she could hardly breathe. The male who was the victim barely picked up his head to look at her. His once healing wounds were gushing more than before. He looked beaten down, the will he once had beaten out of him. Harald picked his head, but she doubted he could see her from how his eyes looked swollen.
"We caught those who did it. Two males who wanted to avenge their families after how he concurred Kattegat." Irvina closed her eyes. She breathed through her nose aggressively.
She turned to Gorm, "Twenty lashings to both of them. We will all pretend that this didn't happen. Find me a damn healer and do something about him."
"Is that all that I am worth to you. Is this how you protect your citizens with only a lashing," her head snapped to him. The man looked to be barely breathing, yet he was still opening his mouth on her. Irvina slowly glided over the muddy floor. She barely picked her skirts, letting the dress get covered in blood.
She bent down, looking at him. Then her fingers gripped his bruised chin. The man hissed in pain, his face twisting. "You can be glad you're still alive. If you ever think of speaking like that to me again, you will be lashed." His eyes squinted even more than they were before.
He coughed, "My brother deserves a woman who can hold her own, not a weakling like you." More blood started gushing out of his nose. Irvina gripped his chin tighter, making him wince. She almost drew back as the blood touched her fingers. Maybe he was right. She could hardly handle the battles. The gore, blood, screams everything disgusted her about it. More importantly, whenever she saw someone get impaled, all she could see was her mother, how she died crying for help.
Maybe Halfdan did deserve someone who was like him. An undeniable soldier. But that wasn't up to Harald to say, that was only up to them.
She smirked at his limp body, "I will take your words into consideration." Sigrún came into the room, her bare feet mushing with the bloody mud. Irvina grimaced in disgust.
"Make him look a little normal please," the man grinned at her words, looking at her Volva. "If he tries something, stab him in his eye." Sigrún bowed her head, and Irvina pushed his face back. He winced once more, and she patted his head with a smirk. She patted Sigrún's shoulder, wiping her bloody hand onto her colorful dress. Sigrún simply raised a brow.
As she stepped outside, her shoulders sagged in relief. Finally, the smell was gone. She looked across her. The man she was still doubting her revenge for was standing across the field. Leaning onto the wall as if Odin himself crafted him into perfection. She knew that with the way he was looking at her, making a decision was going to be hard. Irvina nodded at him, beckoning towards her hut. They were going to argue she could already tell. The prophecy was more accurate than she thought.
