"I thought I could fix this, whatever this may be. But sweat and tears make oceans, and now we're drifting off to sea."

chapter III, act III ✧ 𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔

"I am making it my business to make friends with the sons of Ragnar."

"Forgive me, Astrid... but we already have a woman in our family, and she is already trouble enough," Ubbe huffed, his thoughts trailing to his friend as his mind began spinning with worry. If she was dead... they wouldn't be able to handle it. Not after their mother's death. Scoffing, he continued, "and I'm afraid that we — "

"Ah, yes, Nero Gunnolf," she smiled, shaking her head slightly at the name of the girl who had saved her wife, "and yes, you should be afraid."

"Everyone will always underestimate you," Ragnar warned, his previously somber expression becoming a light one, determined yet... peaceful, "you must make them pay for it."

"I will father," the boy breathed out, his hands reaching out to his father. Weak tears trailed his cheeks, his lip quivered, the sight was heartbreaking, but he looked just as determined as the Odinsson.

"Care for the wolf and it will care for you," he smiled, the guards breaking in to separate the two. They dragged the boy away and at that moment he was sure he would be back, and he would tear that place to the ground, "be ruthless."

Ivar's head spun. He refused to grieve for his father. Revenge came first.

He wanted to think of anything else, but couldn't. His mind trailed to the girl, no matter how many times he focused on the ways he would kill all those who were in the same boat as him. He would still think of killing all of them but with her by his side instead. He missed her... he felt too warm, too angry, without her.

He wished to know of her, to know if somewhere, on the same sea under the same sky, she was alive and well. He hoped her heart did not ache, and if it did, he hoped he could end whoever made it so.

And once he reached Kattegat. His brothers waited for him at the port. And the inevitable truth that his father and mother were dead, didn't make him sad, it made him murderous. This time, there wasn't anyone to kiss his knuckles, to hold his hand. And there would be Hel to pay for that.

had been laying on Hvitserk's chest while the two men and traitor discussed their whereabouts.

She yawned, rubbing her eyes and deciding that she needed to jump into a lake and wash away her soul as soon as possible.

The salt was etched into her skin, her hair would have looked like a mess if it weren't for Vit's rough fingers and the soft way he ran them through it, she had washed her face clean of any kohl and her eyes looked dark in the mist.

Floki settled down next to the girl, anger so clear in his movements that her head shot up from Vit's chest, she kissed his shoulder ever so slightly before turning to face the furious man. The boy simply smiled weakly, just as tired of sailing as everyone else.

"Father, you have been acting crazier than usual, which really worries me, since... usual is already worrying," Nero observed, her back touching Vit's chest as she looked forward, to her father, the blue mist around them making her eyes look milky honey. Nero knew he had been through something, "what is it?"

"Helga wants another child," the answer immediately silenced her, Hvitserk feeling her body tense up under his, kissed her temple, hoping to ease her nerves.

They traveled for days, Nero and Floki barely drank any water. They knew they were almost out of it. But when the mist finally dissipated, and they could see land, their weakness suddenly turned into excitement.

Nero was bouncing up and down, smiling fervently before wrapping her hands around Vit's waist, snuggling into him whilst grinning.

Björn looked at her, a ghost of a smile on his face, Rollo full-on smiled, and went on telling those who were paying attention about the people who lived where they would soon reach, and raid.

Hvitserk felt the wind on his face, and the girl's happiness was beginning to make him giddy as well, Floki looked at them before the corners of his mouth tilted up, he knew the gods would be proud of the murderous pups.

The boats reached the ports by night. And neither Hvitserk, nor Rollo, not even Björn could take their eyes off Nero, she looked ethereal, her eyes were gleaming with mad happiness that they had never seen look so good on anyone.

She knew blood was about to be spilled and her hands trembled with excitement and eagerness to get to her weapons.

Soon enough, Halfdan and Harald found themselves in the same trance as the others, her eyes light, very light and the flames of the fire on the docks reflecting on her face with red and orange hues.

They were sure that is what goddesses looked like. They were sure she was one of the most beautiful women they had ever seen.

The Vikings jumped off their boats. Nero laced her arms around Hvitserk's neck and pulled him down to nibble on his bottom lip, war made her almost... lustful, the adrenaline was beginning to reach high.

He pulled her in even closer and kissed her, their lips immediately parting and her tongue welcoming his.

She grinned in the middle of the kiss and he smirked at her, Nero brought her mouth to his ear, "The fun doesn't have to end after the raid."

With that, she pulled away and trailed next to Halfdan and Harald, fitting in between the two, who looked at her in appreciation before throwing their arms around her shoulders.

Hvitserk bounced with happiness, jumping and grinning. The girl made him happier than he could've thought, having her and the raid... seemed like a version of Valhalla just for him.

Rollo had an insane smile plastered on his face, one that matched the girl's perfectly. The wolf couldn't help but grow slightly more lighthearted about the man because of that.

She looked at the two brothers and they nodded, Harald grabbed the nearest civilian and threw him to her, she quickly slashed his neck with a clean cut of her knife, "Victory or Valhalla."

Her face soon became stained with blood as along with the brothers she roared and scared. The fearful screams were almost such as music to her ears. Halfdan faced her, "Don't you love when they fight back?"

Yet his words were lost to her, her eyes searched frantically for the Ragnarsson she had grown to like so deeply.

One of the civilians was bolting for him and in that moment everything became slow. She blinked rapidly and didn't bother to stop a growl from erupting out of her lips.

She pushed the attacker back, creating enough space in between the two before she kicked his chest, quickly and effortlessly he was on the ground. Her feet still holding him down as she pulled her axe from its holder in her back and hurled it down into the man's stomach, just as Hvitserk stabbed him with his sword.

She pulled the axe out of the corpse and stared at the boy, her eyes gleaming in the dark, on her face a soft smile.

Just as she turned away to follow the others, he tugged at her arm making her crash into his chest before bringing his lips to her again, this time, his hand trailed down to her ass, giving it a playful slap that made her slap his chest in return, "Vit, seriously? You can thank me later."

She gave him a wink and he said nothing, just bolted away towards the others, leaving her to follow. The thrill of the killing made his insides tremble with power, he had loved it, and he now understood why others did too.

The brutality made Nero roar in happiness. She quickly found her way back to Halfdan and Harald, and the three together played games with their prey.

The men gathered pieces of jewelry and riches for her, since she had nowhere to hoard them. Soon enough, there was no fabric of her clothing that wasn't stained with crimson.

She had followed the brothers, and when her eyes failed to find her man, she began praying to all gods in hopes that they would care for him.

They had all stalked in... what seemed to be a temple. Finding Floki already inside. For some reason, they felt the need to respect the brave men, that even in the face of an attack, proceeded with their prayers.

The constant repetition was making the girl grow fidgety, she had sheathed her knives and toyed only with her axe. Throwing it from one hand to the other as she watched the interactions, things weren't quite amusing until Halfdan snapped at the prayers, "I hate that noise."

The Viking, with one quick movement, had ripped the praying man's head straight off his shoulders. Nero felt a shiver coursing down her spine, almost as if the gods themselves told her such was wrong.

She ran in front of her friend, surprised when her father did just the same. He regained his posture before speaking, the girl kept her protective stance in front of the unknown man who had stepped forward, "No more killing. Not in here. Not in this place, I forbid it. If you want to kill these people, you have to kill me first."

Nero backed away from the scene, watching her father with wide eyes. Yes, it was wrong to kill in such sacred place, even if the place wasn't sacred for them. But putting your life above theirs? They weren't Floki's people, and she began questioning why he was so eager to protect them.

Harald laughed, thinking it was some sort of joke. Halfdan and Nero exchanged worried glances between each other.

"You heard what Floki said, we are not going to kill these people," The King barked, finally noticing the seriousness of what his friend had said, "leave."

She walked outside with Halfdan hot on her trail, she simply shrugged, showing just as much concern and annoyance at the fact that her father stood for others instead of his own people.

The starry night brought back her focus, the wind that whisked through her hair made her once again be reminded of Hvitserk. Her worry began to get the best of her.

They entered yet another building. Harald and Halfdan each by her side as she stalked quietly, trying to understand why the place was such a mess, but when she heard screams and cheers, she smiled. The others were there.

She bolted inside, searching for the Ragnarsson in hopes that he was unharmed, men everywhere having women and stealing riches.

Her axe was ripped away from her hands and tossed to the floor as she was pushed against the nearest wall. A huff left her lips as all air escaped her lungs, she was ready to fight back when she finally looked up, only to be met by Hvitserk's eyes.

She had never seen him happier, she had never seen him more beautiful. He jumped up and down slightly, smiling like he had conquered the entire world in one night.

She relaxed against his grip, a smile coming to her own face as she saw he wasn't wounded, "So, Ragnarsson, raid seems to be over."

⓲

"I am quite aware," he grinned, one of his hands lacing on her hair and tugging on it, exposing her neck. He trailed soft kisses over her skin, making her whimper.

Having enough of his teasing she groaned and pulled his chin up, meeting his lips with a rough kiss. Passionate and brutal. It almost felt like they loved each other. She barely remembered how Ivar looked like. He barely remembered the servant's face.

His hands trailed down to her ass, squeezing it as she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist eagerly.

She pulled away and traced his jaw and neck with bites and kisses, making sure the world would know to whom he belonged and allowing for him to walk them to the nearest bed, in a place that had many.

He dropped her onto it and she quickly tried to rid of her own pants and he eagerly helped before once again climbing on top of her, her legs found their way around his hips once again and pulled them down to meet her, she arched her back slightly and moaned at the friction.

"Odin..." he trailed off, he had yet to hear a sound more beautiful than the one that had just escaped her lips. She smiled up at him. Her face so innocent that could have fooled anyone.

His hips jerked down and she had to close her eyes to restrain herself from making any sounds, he watched every detail of her face, kissing her forehead before he kicked off his own pants.

His hips moved with a mind of its own, pushing down against her. She moaned, giving him the perfect opportunity to taste her mouth, their tongues fought for certain dominance that Nero earned when she tugged on his hair.

In the midst of their mead and honey kiss, two racing hearts felt a slight wrongness. Mead needs honey just as much as drunk men need alcohol. They needed each other, they felt for each other, when they touched, when they smiled, when they kissed, they thought — this could be love. This could be love.

But could it be love when it felt like a mistake in the making?

Their minds were hazy with lust and need. Nero laced her hand on his neck, bringing him closer to her, she kissed his mouth and he reciprocated, nibbling at her lips.

His hands roamed her sides until he pulled her legs tighter around his waist, his forehead touched hers and she breathed out softly at the feel of him suddenly inside her.

She slipped her hands under his armor and under the fabric of his shirt. Feeling his muscles move with each movement that made her arch her back and expose her neck to his eager mouth. He trailed her body with his free hand, holding her waist tightly much to her amusement, his fingers digging into her skin.

"Hvitserk..." she whined, begging for him to fasten his pace. She knew she shouldn't have done it, calling out to him only made the boy smirk, and then, she got exactly what she wanted.

His head dipped into the crook of her neck, biting and kissing everywhere he could possibly reach, making the girl moan with every touch of his lips. Her nails left imprints on his back that made him growl.

They knew not when his body ended and hers began. They couldn't care less about the men and the women having sex around them. All that existed was them.

He was entirely sure that was the best he's ever had. She rocked her hips to meet his pace and was just as eager for pleasure as he was, understanding that they were in the middle of a raid and that they couldn't take as long as they wished.

She latched her teeth into the soft skin in between his neck and shoulder, knowing exactly where to get him weak. Her body began trembling as she closed her eyes shut, forgetting about the others around as his name left her lips like a war cry. Passionate. He couldn't help but reach his own end as the girl's moans only pushed him further.

⓲

"I guess this makes up for all the teasing," Nero laughed weakly, his body falling next to hers as they tried to catch their breaths.

"Does it?" he teased, planting countless kisses on the girl's head. Her fingers tapped a soft beat on his armor, she tugged at his necklace so he could look down at her, and when he did, she kissed him once again, never growing tired of his mead kisses. He smiled into the kiss, making her pull away and smile as well, "I think we should try that again, just to make sure it makes up for all of it."

"I can consider, Hvitserk Lothbrok," she grinned, kissing his shoulder softly before standing up and tossing him his pants.

The boy had tamed her wolf, it now fed from humans' hands, drank water from a pot and wore a leash when going into the woods, it no longer had blood-stained teeth, nor dirty, muddy fur and sharp claws. She loved the feeling for now, but the wolf was never meant to be tamed.