"Is it true?!" Bonnie yelled as she burst into Ivar's throne room.

He, Hvitserk, and multiple other warriors stood gathered around the great table huddled over a map that spanned the entire structure.

"Is what true, My Love?" He questioned without looking up from the map.

"Did you instruct Thomas and the rest of your personal warriors to sack the castle?" She stalked to the other end of the table shoving warriors out of their places to stand directly in Ivar's and Hvits' sight line. "To burn things in my sun room!" She growled through the slits of her teeth.

She'd invested too much time and magic to transform that hovel of a castle into a palace that made the Alhambra look like a quaint Airbnb in comparison. Hell, the state of the art kitchen and a few of the rooms even had indoor plumbing. Indoor plumbing centuries before running faucets and flushing toilets were a home appraisal given. So she'd fuck Ivar's boneless ass all the way up before she allowed him to turn their home into the equivalent of a Middle Age crack house.

"Yes, yes," he said with a furrowed brow still not sparing her a glance. "It's all a part of my strategy. Now please seek out your leave so we may continue without further interruption."

Her head snapped back as if she'd had her bell rung by Adonis Creed himself. Her glare shifted to Hvitserk who remained true to character and shrugged his response. Oh that was it! Ever since she'd revealed to Ivar she'd strayed, he'd ignored her and reordered her to dead last on his priority list. They hadn't made love since before she left almost four weeks prior, but she understood that aspect of their relationship would take time.

To be honest, she wasn't all the way feeling him like that yet either. Especially, since Sheila put it in her ear of the special parting gifts Freydis had left behind for Ivar. They also still slept apart and not once had he approached her to rectify the situation. Not to mention she was also crazy, stupid in love with Hvits. Maybe everything he said about them getting passed her transgressions was just a pretty lie to make her feel better. Well he could save his consolation falsities for Katya because she definitely was not her.

Pissed beyond belief she leaped on the table in a single jump. Then preceded to strut down the wooden structure as if it was a Milan catwalk. Finally, Ivar's glare left the map to sweep to her. His sockets nearly gave birth to his eyeballs upon discovering her on the great table strolling towards him.

"My Love, what is your purpose for this?" He waved a hand at the track marks her heels left on the map in their wake.

"For the past two fortnights you have ignored me, and I've given you your space. Now you've gone and ordered the sacking and burning of our home." When she reached him she copped a squat in front of him. "Do you know what this tells me, Lover?"

His eyes drifted down to the crotch of her mink lined leggings and lingered. "What does it tell you, My Love?"

"It tells me you no longer want space, you want my attention." She placed a finger under his chin and lifted until their eyes met. "In fact it tells me you want all of my attention, so attend you I shall! Tell your warriors they have one turn of the hour glass to have everything in my sunroom back in order or the next thing that will catch fire will be their asses. Are we of one accord?" His eyes slitted, but he nodded. She narrowed her eyes as well as she nodded along with him. "I'm sorry I didn't quite hear you. Are we of one accord, Boneless?"

"Yes, My Love, we are of one accord," he said, while heat leaped from his gaze that wasn't altogether inspired by anger.

"Good, this pleases me." She hopped off the table and strolled towards the throne room door. Before leaving, she paused to look back at him. The entire room of warriors watched with varying expressions of shock, disbelief, and lust on their faces. Yet, Hvitserk's and Ivar's faces were the only ones that nearly sparked a blaze in the crotch of her undie's. "The next time you want to deceive the Saxons, come to me. Flames and dead bodies are nothing in the grand scheme of what I'm capable of." With that, she dropped the proverbial mic and walked out.

For the rest of the rising she supervised Ivar's personal warriors as they put her sunroom and the rest of the castle back to rights. By the time eve fell, she decided to forego second meal in favor of getting laid with her bed. However, when she moved to excuse herself, Thomas told her Ivar wanted to see her in his private quarters. Though she knew what was coming, she decided to attend him anyway. If she allowed herself to be real with herself for only a moment, she'd admit she missed him. Even the little time she'd saw him and Hvits earlier that day was enough to hype her for the rest of the rising.

So while faking agitation she made her way to Ivar's room. There, she discovered the door slightly ajar. The glow from the candle lights drifted into the hallway. She approached the opening, and lightly tapped.

"Come in, My Love," his voice floated to her from the depths of the room. "There's no cause for you to announce yourself before entering."

She walked into the room stunned to discover a bath drawn in the clawfoot bathtub. Second meal prepared and waited for them in his private dining area in the far corner, while the furs on his large bed was turned down in anticipation of them turning in. He'd even placed her body scrubs and oils next to the tub for her.

"What's this?" She asked waving her hand at the room in general.

With his cane firmly in hand, he limped over to her. "My apology for neglecting you. It is never my intent for you to feel disregarded. Especially, when you're the only one I hold in the most highest regard. Will you forgive me for my ignorance and shortsightedness, My Love?"

"When have I ever been able to not forgive you anything, Babe?" She questioned as she rested her forehead on his.

He pressed his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. "It is just as well. Now I don't have to spend half the eve persuading you to return your favor." He palmed her breast, before massaging the pad of his thumb into her nipple. "My spies in the Saxons' camp have told me they have a mind to attack at first light next rising. So we all must be in the sewers long before they arrive."

"What?!" She growled, pissed he hadn't spoken to her of this sooner.

"Shh," he whispered as he somehow managed to slip a finger inside of her. A whimper tumbled from her lips as if obligated by currency. "No worries, My Love. There shall be ample time for me to reacquaint myself with your beautiful form long before we must quit the castle for the sewers."

****

Alfred stole back into the tent he shared with his brother. Confused as to where the Pagans had gone. He'd entered the city of York through the pathway his spies had told him of to see Bonnie. He wanted to warn her of their impending attack in an hours' time. Even plot with her a place she could take refuge until it was safe for him to come for her. Yet, when he entered the city it was sacked, abandoned and overran with rodents. Had Bishop Heahmund's plan to starve them out functioned too well? Had they taken their leave of England and finally sailed back to their homelands when faced with defeat?

"Well?" Ethelred hissed at him in the darkness from his place upon his bedroll. "What shall she do? Will she forsake the Pagans and accept refuge from you?"

He shook his head as if his brother could sight him. "I don't know, she wasn't there. None of them were, they've all fled the city."

"All of them?" An outline of his brother sat upright and blotted out the sliver of light from the fading moon.

"Yes," he said, unlatching his sword from his waist tossing it down next his bedroll. "The castle is abandoned and in ruins. The stench of burning flesh still clings to the air. Rodents must have taken to devouring whatever remains were left behind, for York is overran with them."

"Though I'm disappointed that I won't have the opportunity to slack my blade with Pagan's blood, I must admit I'm overjoyed to see the back of them." He felt his brother grip his shoulder. "Yet, I am sorry about Bonnie. I know you believe yourself in love with her."

At that moment, the entrance of their tent flapped open, and a lantern lit the interior. "Rise and don-," his father's words came to a halt when he saw him already attired. "Alfred you've readied yourself for battle." Pleasure lit his face and resonated within his tone. "Have a look at your brother Ethelred. You should aspire to be more like him. After all, it is you who shall be king when I am no more."

His brother's eyes rolled. "Of course, father." Satisfied with Ethelred's contrition, their father nodded once before disappearing from the tent. "Wake me just before we're to ride out. There's no cause for over preparation when the war is already won," his brother said, laying back down and giving him his back.

****

"And you're certain it was him creeping away from the city?" Ivar asked never taking his eyes from Bonnie who paced the length of the sewer.

Thomas inclined his head once. "Yes, I'm certain. He quit the city by the means the spy I planted gave him. Why would King Aethelwulf risk sending Prince Alfred ahead as a scout of sorts?"

"Aethelwulf didn't send Alfred. He came under his own volition," he said, clenching his iron crutch tighter than need be.

Confusion scrunched Thomas' face. "Why would he do something so foolish?"

"Because men in love are fools." He spat as he continued to watch his love through slitted eyes. "Send for Thorin the Beast. There's a task I need him to undertake."

Thomas nodded before scurrying away to do his bidding as Bonnie and Hvitserk moved to join him.

"Where's Thomas going?" Bonnie questioned as her narrowed verdant stare tracked Thomas until she could no longer see him.

He slipped an arm around her waist. "Only to see to a few final details, My Love."

"What detai-," A loud cheer thundered from above, cutting her off.

He gave her a gentle squeeze before guiding her towards their designated opening. "Come, we must seek out our positions."

At the opening, he observed the Saxons continuing to carry on unawares of the nature of their true predicament. Once satisfied their position still held the element of surprise, he waved his hand for them to raise the ladders. In their excitement, the warriors began to mutter a few praises to Odin and battle cries. He pressed his finger to his lips to remind them, their victory still remained contingent upon silence. At the first scream of terror from the Saxons, he bellowed the order for attack.

Thorin the Beast appeared at his side, he bowed to Bonnie, then turned to address him. "Thomas says you have a task for me to complete."

Bonnie's gaze snapped from Thorin to him.

"Yes," he tapped his arm and Thorin leaned in. "Find Prince Alfred and bring about his end. This is the only task which takes priority with you. Are we of the same mind, you and I?"

Thorin leaned back and nodded once, then hurried away to complete the Prince's assassination. Bonnie's glare snapped to him. "What did you ask him to do, Ivar?"

He opened his mouth, but his personal warriors lifted him up through the opening. Moments later, Bonnie stood next to him. She skewered him with a glower he found enchanting upon her face, so he returned it with a smile. "Charge!" He roared as he hurled a dagger at a Saxon several paces ahead of them. When his love attempted to separate from him, to protect her lover no doubt, he grasped her arm. "You're with me, My Love."

"What about, Hvits?" She asked as she stumbled along after him.

"He'll persevere. Yet, I...well," He shrugged as he limped through the battle surrounded by his personal warriors. "Am I not the cripple and the one most in need of your protection after all?"

****

Alfred sighted Bonnie being led toward the front of the city by Ivar. He moved to pursue them and a man the size of the castle's gates stepped in his path with the biggest mallet he'd ever seen. Without even a hint of provocation the beast of a man swung the hammer at his head. When he utilized the sense god gifted him with and evaded the swing, the beast plowed through the corner of a stone structure at his back. Before he could even think to parry the Pagan beast attacked again, leaving him with only time to raise his shield. Which he proceeded to hammer to shards, fragments, and bits.

"Alfred!" His mother's cousin, bless him, appeared at the most opportune time and plunged his sword in the beasts back.

That action diverted the Pagan from the task of reuniting him with his natural father. For the Beast turned and began swinging his oversized hammer at his cousin. Not wasting time, Alfred snatched an abandoned sword from the mud, and then pierced the beasts midsection. This time blessed be the lord the Pagan did fall with the assistance of a small shove from his cousin of course.

****

Bonnie stood on the bridge positioned over the city's gates next to York. The battle below raged. Yet, since they'd positioned themselves there she hadn't caught sight of Hvitserk. Though, she knew he'd be fine, she still couldn't help but worry. Since she'd fell through time, more than a few things hadn't exactly gone to script. The last thing she wanted was for one of her mates to get caught up in a rewrite.

"I haven't seen, Hvits. Have you?" She questioned Ivar without sparing him a glance.

She heard his long drawn out exhale but chose to ignore him. "Be at ease, I'm sure Hvitserk is well. He's practically untouchable on the battlefield and well you know. In verity, there's only one other I know of who can best him, and it's been Solstice cycles since your so called protector has graced the shores of England with his ships."

She cut him with a glare. "Why are we together again?"

"Well, I could say it's the witticism that our conversations tend to inspire. Yet in the end we'd both know," he placed his hand on her ass cheek, and then squeezed, "that's not exactly the truth now is it, My Love. Hmm?"

"Ivar!" She scolded as his personal warriors seemed to fall victim to coughing fits at the same time.

"Bare not your sword in vain!" Bishop Heahmund bellowed from his perch upon his horse.

Bonnie's glare swung to the Bishop she couldn't wait to put on his back. She squared her shoulders as she waited for her moment. "And you will not interfere, Lover!" She hissed to Ivar, knowing she didn't have to explain. His boy crush was freaking palpable.

Ivar pointed his sword to the warriors and shieldmaidens to the left of them. "Spears!" Following orders their warriors released their spears in to the line of English soldiers, effectively taking out the entire frontline. He laughed and gave her the smile she'd long since claimed as her own. "Perhaps this is why we're together as well." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her neck.

Pissed from Ivar out maneuvering him, Heahmund trotted his horse over to a downed Sheila and attempted to stomp her to death with his horse. If not for her barrier spell, Sheila would've been just another bloody smear on the muddy path. "That is it! He's mine!" She growled through the clench of her teeth.

At that moment, their warriors retaliated by shooting arrows into the horse that thought to stomp to death one of their beloved shieldmaidens. The horse went down and so did Heahmund. Right under the cursed animal. Wasn't poetic justice a lovely bitch?

"Stop fighting! Stop fighting!" Ivar demanded and Bonnie's eyes rolled. She didn't give a damn what he said. There wasn't any way the good Bishop wasn't going to catch her hands with his eyes, mouth, nose, and wherever else she thought to put them. "Give him my horse! Give him my horse. He's to great of a warrior to fight on foot."

"Yeah, we'll see about that!" She said, before flipping off the bridge and landing a few paces in front of Heahmund. "Give him five or six horses and it won't matter, because I'm still about to bust his ass like he's fresh meat on a Super Max cell block."

"My Love!" Ivar roared from the bridge.

"My God, you're her. Satan's concubine, the Pagan's witch!" Heahmund hissed at her.

"And you're the one who did that to Ubbe's face after he came to you in peace," she said, glaring into his eyes searching out the very spark which made him apart of her despite his chosen path. "All of the lives loss since then, even the ones who met there ends this day. I, mother of all supernatural beings, charge you Bishop Heahmund with their deaths. Had you only taken Ubbe at his word and given him the land Ecbert promised the sons of Ragnar then all of this," she waved a hand over the destruction of their once great city, "could've been avoided. Now you will be made to answer for this charge."

"I do not fear you, Pagan Whore," Heahmund said as he stood and snatched his sword from the dirt. "With God at my side, fear will never thrive in my heart!"

"Don't attempt to bring the Ancient of Days into this. Who do you think gave me leave to deal with you?" Bonnie questioned tilting her head to the side.

He lunged at her, his sword aimed at her chest. She spun away and called for a weapon. A chain materialized in her grip. She'd promised not to kill the good Bishop, but that was all she promised. Before Heahmund even noticed she wasn't dangling from the point of his sword, she flung the chain out and it wrapped around the wrist which held the sword. With a tug of the chain, the weapon flew from his hand and landed at Ivar's feet on the bridge.

Heahmund yanked at the chain still bound around his wrist in an attempt to throw her off balance. Instead, she somersaulted into a handstand and kicked him in the chin for her trouble. Flipping herself back upright, she wrapped her end of the chain around her knuckles, and then proceeded to give him two jabs to the nose. The crunching sound which echoed throughout the courtyard was unmistakable.

Punch drunk, Heahmund staggered. He then managed to produce a dagger from his trousers, with a jerk of the chain and another flick of her wrist she managed to bind his free wrist to his already shackled one. As a hail Mary, the Bishop thought to rush her, she delivered a powerful kick to his knee with the heel of her Timbs. The Blow drove him to his good knee, she took the opportunity to give him a round house to the face. He landed flat on his back in the mud. Not done, the same dagger he thought to stab her with, she snatched from the ground.

Two brilliant aquamarine lights glowed bright within the bloody mess that was now Heahmund's face. "Intercessor." He wheezed.

Her eyes rolled before she slammed the handle of the dagger down in the same place he hit Ubbe. The blow took him out before the referee could even count him down. "He's all yours, Lover. Your great warrior!" She spun around and gave him a mocking bow.