Alfild wakes up in a cell, alone and not actually dead. Without Ivar there, she feels she might not survive after the birth of their child. Nevertheless, she remains loyal to the end. Even if it kills her.
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It was a matter of weeks until the men were taken. Alfild had tried to help them, to stop the men that came with swords, but it was no use. She was weak, tired, and knew that it would very soon be her time to join them. So, she nodded to each and promised to meet them again in Valhöl.
She didn't think that she would, but the Queen missed their chatter. Now, she was alone once more. No one to fill the emptiness. Nothing to stop her mind from wandering towards the void.
Despite their being enemies, Ubbe had come to see her later that day. He'd seemed wary, but compassion fueled him as it always had.
"Have you come here to gloat, Ubbe Ragnarsson?" Alfild's sharp green eyes pierced into his soul, watching every micro movement with an intensity that could burn down cities. "Now that my men are dead, I am alone here."
"I'm not here to gloat." He responded with a small frown, thinking over the years that he'd known the young queen. She'd been there to avenge his father, she'd been there when Sigurd took his last breath, she'd been there when they took York. She'd helped Ivar take Kattegat, and lived as their enemy for some time. But, she had once been a close friend. "Your men aren't dead."
"What?" Her voice was low, hushed by the small intake of breath that accompanied her words. What had Bjorn done to them, if he had not killed them? Her mind ran wild with every horrific possibility, every nightmarish scenario that played out. What had become of them, if not the sweet mercy of death?
"They're not dead. Bjorn banished them. They're to live as outcasts, but they'll live." Ubbe explained calmly, hoping that the reassurance of mercy would put her at ease in some way.
But in Alfild's mind, it was no mercy. A flash of horror shot over her face before she replaced it with a look of rage. "Is this what Bjorn calls mercy?" She spat, shaking her head bitterly. "There is no honour in that! You have condemned them! They are warriors, they deserved to die as warriors. Not as outcasts in some field when winter comes. How will they enter Odin's Hall, hm? Where's the honour?"
"Where's the honour in killing innocent people for Ivar?" Ubbe returned without missing a beat, watching as the woman's anger increased. When he had once known her, that look would've told him to dodge her sword. But a lot had changed since then. Alfild's firey anger had become cold like ice, and now all she could see was the bigger picture. She would play whatever role she must, whatever game she must, to see revenge for what was taken from her.
"We executed traitors." She corrected calmly, eyeing him as if he was the one chained to the wall. "Which is more than you can say for your coward of a brother."
"Alfild," Ubbe tried to reason with her, crouching to her level with a look of pity. He couldn't see the fierce warrior queen that he once knew, not anymore. In this cell, all he saw was a woman desperately clinging onto her shattered world. "Please just be reasonable. None of us want to hurt you. If you just-"
"Just betray Ivar?" She completed his words, clenching her jaw.
"My brother left you here to die. Why are you still defending him?"
His words cut her in a way that she wasn't expecting. Ivar had left, that much was true, but he hadn't left her. She'd left him. Were these the rumours circling Kattegat? That the King had betrayed the poor weak queen and left her to die? It was all lies. "You're wrong." She answered. "I knew that Bjorn would catch up to us if we left. I knew that if he did, we'd all die. So, I made the choice to close the passage. I left Ivar so that I could buy time for his escape. And I know that he will return."
Ubbe shook his head and sighed, knowing that she was probably right. He'd seen how his little brother cared for her and, even if Ivar had abandoned them, he doubted that he'd abandon her too. But how much pain would that cause Alfild in the process?
"Do you pity me, Ubbe?" She questioned, still staring at him with the deepest intensity - a look that he'd received from Ivar all too often. "Do you feel sorry for me?" She persisted, gritting her teeth before she spoke again. "I've not lost everything yet. I'm still Alfild the Merciless, and I've survived far worse than this."
"Alfild, I don't want to fight you." He pleaded one last time, still praying to all the Gods that she'd see sense. Of course, Alfild was far too stubborn for that.
