FLAMES OF DREAMS SERIES: GODS & MONSTERS [READER x IVAR]

CHAPTER 10: WHAT THEY WOULDN'T DO

The night passed in restlessness and long before you knew it, the time of the negotiations was there. Nothing would change, you knew that much, yet the faces of Lagertha and Bjorn betrayed nothing but determination to change the minds of Ivar and Harald; deep down you wondered whether they knew it was a lost cause, yet it was their own stubbornness that forced them to try one last time to resolve the conflict without shedding any drop of blood.

It was a noble idea from their side, yet with Ivar standing next to you you clearly saw him gripping the end of his sword as if he was prepared to use it on the next person who dared to address him. Without thinking much of it, your hand landed on top of his, giving it a light squeeze, an action that felt so wrong and right at the same time. The man didn't react, at least to the eyes of others all around you; you clearly felt him relax under your hand, and it wasn't long before his arm disappeared from his sword.

"It is nice to see you again Ubbe, even if it is under these circumstances." Taking a step forward you spoke to the figure against you, going even as far as to send him a small smile which he returned with a small nod. Lagertha's eyes followed Ubbe before they landed on you, a foreigner queen who deep down she had nothing but respect for. It must have been tough what you had gone through, she wondered. With your head held high you reminded her so much of her younger self, one that was never afraid of anything or anyone.

"Ubbe told me about you, Y/N of Essex. Why is a queen of Essex fighting a war that doesn't concern her?" The famous shield-maiden questioned, her eyes peering into you that spoke of curiosity.

"As my future bride I'd say she has plenty of reason to be by my side." Ivar growled angrily to which Bjorn let out a chuckle which quickly grew into a laugh that never seemed to want to end.

"Future bride? A Christian? Is that what Floki taught you for all these years, to marry a Christian bitch?"

Ivar had barely managed to contain his anger before, but it was now, hearing Bjorn insult you - his bride - that made him draw his sword. He had every intention of attacking his brother if it wasn't for you who stopped him from moving forward.

"Don't, Ivar. Not now." You whispered to him without anyone else managing to hear you. Much to his brothers' surprise, whatever it was that you had said to him made him stop his advance. To them it felt impossible that their ruthless brother could care about anyone but himself; but he did, more than he himself cared to admit.

Hvitserk had been the first one to see it. He easily noticed the longing glances his brother sent your way whenever you were in a conversation with someone else, or the angry glares when you smiled at someone who wasn't him. He had asked Ivar about it once, but gained nothing but a laugh and a denial, one that Hvitserk knew was not true.

Your sister Darelle had become convinced that you too had started to develop some sort of affection towards Ivar. She could not understand why - had it not been him who had taken your crown and made you leave Essex - but no matter how hard she tried, she could not hate you for it. Had she done so she would have been a hypocrite, the worst kind of a hypocrite there was, for she too was starting to feel affection towards a heathen who had threatened to kill her in the past.

"This became my war from the first moment I stepped onto this land."

***

During the many years of your life, there had been three times you had felt genuine fear. The first time occurred when the king of Essex fell; the second at the death of your mother and the anointment of you as the next queen of Essex. The third and final time took place as Darelle laid in bed with a sweating sickness threatening to take her life. Three times you had felt hopelessness, and now it was time for the fourth.

Lying on the ground with an arrow sticking through your thigh and blood dripping through your fingers as you tried to stop the bleeding marked the fourth time fear overtook you. Strength slipped away from your body with every passing moment, and you knew it was there you would possibly lose your life. You barely managed to keep your eyes open due to all of the pain; before they closed, the last thing you saw was a pack of crows flying, circling in the air as if they were patiently waiting for your passing.

It was Odin, raising the souls of the brave men and women who had lost their lives. They were now on their way to Valhalla, and soon they'd be drinking in the halls of the Gods. But where was your God? Were you not worthy of heaven? Were you not worthy of love and peace?