Awareness reclaimed Harald with a surety that lent discernment to his instincts. Beneath him a silken softness cushioned his form. Upon him a smooth plush frame blanketed him. A flowered scent wrapped in a mystical wildness invaded his nostrils. Burgeoning need kindled within the depths of him. For he'd know the scent even when too many risings had addled his mind and pilfered him of his sight. The heady attar belong to his sister-in-law. The Supreme. His arms tightened around the plush treasure resting upon his chest.

"You should be slumbering," she mumble into the strange tunic he donned.

The insignificant material fastened up the front. He'd never sighted the likes!

"Agh!" He cut a glare down the length of him. A mass of battle braids combatted his visual assault. "Rest is better suited for the old, feeble, and hobbled. Not a conquering king who pursues more thrones than Fate has provided him risings." He reached up to tug one of her braids. "A burden which you've only added to by allowing Bjorn to name himself king of Kattegat."

"It's only a burden because you permit it to be." She angled her face about so her chin rested on his chest. She glared at him through lids which appeared on the verge of closing. "Why must you worry yourself over things which holds absolutely no consequence over your cause, hmm?" Her puckered face afforded her words and her pointed stare more severity. "You're always so quick to play the position of underdog. Why not roam the board as a king if your head bears the burden of a crown?" When he dared roll his gaze away, she slapped the center of his chest. "Goddess! Sometimes I wonder if you're addicted to the struggle, Harald."

The fire flashing in her verdant stare upset the pounding rhythm beating down his chest. A palpitation which only ever occurred when he discovered himself within her presence. She was a silent affliction his heart suffered from the moment she forced herself into its bleeding depths when she first crossed his path. Since then the organ had held many opinions concerning their Supreme. Opinions which cavorted along the boundaries of hate, dislike, annoyance, amazement, and respect. Yet even as he grappled to understand the numerous stances of the treacherous muscle which resided beneath his ribs, the sordid thing still stoked the flames of something more for her. Something he had not the daring to consider.

"I mean to honor my vow to Halfdan," Harald rasped as his gaze held hers. He'd make her the queen of Norway if she'd only allow him to do so. Though the title would be no more than a jewel among the many she already donned, he still could do no more than offer her the greatest gift he had to give. "Marr-,"

She tore her gaze from his to cast it towards the looking portal near the far wall. "King Olaf asks that you return with him to his kingdom."

"Why?!" His rising ire forced him to bellow. Her ill-timed declaration had blundered his offer of marriage. "I'm barely acquainted with the man."

"Olaf saw you fall during battle." Her shoulder rose to match the rising arch in her brow. "He claims to wanna honor you by having you convalesce in his kingdom before you journey back to Vestfold." He disregarded the thought with the shifting of his glare and a dismissing wave. She forced his face back around to reestablish eye contact. "And you will accept his offer." Her braids fell from her shoulders to cloak them in a familiar moment even the empty room could not afford them. He opened his mouth to protest such nonsense, but she place a finger over his lips. "Fate is now ordering your steps, Harald. This path will lead you to the end you've always sought."

While in turn, leading him away from the beginning he'd now so desired...

****

Ubbe slipped his arms around his wife from behind as she stood speaking with Bjorn's fourth wife. He buried his face in the crook of her neck to press kisses to the supple skin there. Revelers moved all about them in the all laughing and lifting their voices in boisterous cheers to his eldest brother victory against his youngest. Bjorn Ironside was now king of Kattegat. A verity they'd all known would one rising come to past. He'd assumed once the time arrived so would his envy...his jealousy. Yet he felt nothing more than gladdened for Bjorn. Perhaps, even a bit of relief for himself. With Torvi as his wife, and the prospect of Bonnie joining them in matrimony, his contentment now truly knew fulfillment.

Ubbe had been called many names over the course of his life. Even a fool a time or three, but his reputation no longer bore the brunt of such disrespect. He knew this opportunity with Bonnie was only a possibility due to his brother's shortsightedness while in England. Ubbe still couldn't believe Bjorn had entered into matrimony with another woman who wasn't his Valkyrie...yet again. If Ubbe hadn't witnessed the whole of Bjorn's heart in his eyes whenever he looked upon their Supreme, he'd doubt his brother's affections for her. As it were, Ubbe knew better. They all did, and so did Bjorn's wife. The forlornness she often cloaked herself in as one who donned a favored frock proved as much.

"Ubbe, Gunnhild just spoke to me of how fiercely Guthrum fought to reclaim Kattegat," Torvi said, burrowing deeper into his embrace as she angled her neck to peer over her shoulder at him.

He pressed a kiss to her head before moving his gaze back to Gunnhild. "Truly?"

"Had you witnessed him on the battlefield you'd not question my claims," she said, as her gaze moved from his to a place just over his shoulder, before flicking back to him. "Many apologies, I must seek out my leave."

He inclined his head. When Gunnhild hurried away, Torvi spun in his arms and slipped hers around his neck. A grin turned the corners of her lips. Delight set her face aglow. Golden flames sparked within her gilded stare. His grip around her tightened. He cared for his wife. In verity, he cared for her as much as his heart allowed him to care for any woman who wasn't his Valkyrie. Perhaps, his interests for Torvi never wavered because her affections for their Supreme rivaled his own. She understood the constant agitation within him to long for something which always managed to slide through the very splits of his fingers every time he believed his hold true.

"Why do you beam so, wife?" He kissed her once again. This time on the full of her mouth. "Does it please you so to be back home among our people?"

Her lips birthed forth a laugh which swelled to become part of the raucous cheer of the hall. "Among many other favors bestowed upon us by the gods." Smugness and glee shone in her gaze as she continued. "You must know what it is I speak of, my husband. For you as well appear just as pleased with yourself. Were your private talks with Bonnie to our benefit? Did you find your discussions with her heated and to your liking?"

Thoughts of the way Bonnie's lush form yielded to his mouth and touch filled his cock to discomforting proportions. Then memories of Hvitserk interrupting their interlude set his teeth to edge. The cheeriness which pinkened his wife's flesh drained from Torvi's cheeks as her scrutinizing stare scoured his face.

He cleared his gullet of its distaste. "Hvitserk intruded upon us before I could speak with her of our offer."

"What?" She straightened in his arms. "How does he even have the boldness to speak-,"

He stroked her lower back to ease the tightness there his words provoked, while shaking his head. "Bonnie was not minded of him or his blusterous argument. Yet, she sought out her leave before I could present her with my offer."

Her gaze rolled away, narrowed, and then saddened. He followed her stare across the hall to his stepson Guthrum. A bounty of fine looking shieldmaiden surrounded the boy, but instead of attending their interests his attention rested upon the doors to the long house. Moments after indulging the abundance of preening women, Guthrum said something to them and sought his leave. Pain radiated throughout his wife's features until the resolve discharged the effects agony had wrought upon her face. She then turned to look at him.

"Excuse me, Ubbe. There's something I must see to," she said, stepping out of the protection of his arms.

Before he could grant her permission to take leave of the hall, she spun on her heel to follow her son from the long house.

****

Bjorn sat with his mother in his personal quarters. Though the hall celebrated his victory over Ivar he wanted nothing more than time with Lagertha alone. After believing her dead for so long, it comforted him to once again be able to look upon her. To speak to her and seek out her counsel. For the first time in his life he believed contentment to be within his reach. A smile settled itself upon his lips as he gazed into the fires of the hearth that blazed between them.

His mother returned his smile with a slight one of her own. "I sense a calm about you." Bjorn inclined his head but held his tongue. As her gaze crept over him the corners of her mouth further migrated north. "Hmm, it's a peace you haven't claimed since you were a child." Her gaze left him to return to the flames. "Perhaps not since Gyda passed beyond the veil, Aslaug found her way to Kattegat's shores, or maybe not since we left Ragnar." She tore her stare from the blaze to recapture his. "Though I'm not sure when you came by your restlessness, I am certain I do envy you in your stillness, my son."

Like Lagertha, Bjorn knew not when peace escaped the seas he braved. Yet he remembered the moment when the gods offered him the hope of still waters. A mystifying face filled his mind's eye. Warmth coursed through him at just the thought of the one he'd chosen over all. No he didn't know when peace alluded him. He, however, did know when resolution offered calm back to him.

"I've squandered so much time on foolish notions and selfish pursuits," he shook his head, "but no more. I intend to enter into matrimony with Bonnie."

His mother's face folded in on itself as she nigh misplaced her ale from her cup. "Bonnie? But are you not already wedded to another?"

"Gunnhild," he muttered as unease crept in to disturb his new found state of tranquility.

"Yes, her!" Lagertha slid forward in her seat to level him with a scowl she hadn't used on him since his twelfth summer. "Is it your plan to have our Supreme enter into matrimony with you and she?" Her eyes narrowed as she lowered her voice. "After everything she's been through?"

He waved her off. "What do you know of what Bonnie has suffered?"

"I know she has suffered much!" She hissed back. "It's uttered by many all over Kattegat. A man can never understand how such a loss changes a woman."

"Bonnie is more than a woman," he bit out.

"You know nothing!" Lagertha hissed reprimand had the impact of a physical blow. "In this she is no more or less than any other woman!"

Gunnhild pushed through the hanging beads over the entrance. "Bjorn, I've been attempting to seek you out since the feast begun. I have news." She beamed at him.

"Well," Lagertha gathered herself and moved to rise. "I'll seek out my leave so you may-,"

"No, there is no need for you to do so, Lagertha," Gunnhild said, stepping further in the private quarters with her hands raised. "This is news I'd favor you hearing as well. You after all are Bjorn's mother."

Lagertha's guarded stare strayed to him and he shrugged. What he had to say to Gunnhild could hold until after the feast met its end.

"Alright." His mother resettled in her seat.

"What news do you have, Gunnhild?" He asked, somewhat guilt ridden by his own news he planned to hand down to her in exchange.

Her gaze glittered. "When the land frees itself of the ice and snow. You're to be a father...again."

****

Bonnie exited the guest room she'd placed Harald, and then closed the door. When she turned to make her way down the hall to her bed room Torvi stood before her. Happiness filled her soon as she sighted the blonde, but soon faded when she realized the torment which twisted her friend's features.

"Torvi!" With her heart wedging itself in her throat Bonnie stepped forward and took hold of her friend's upper arms. Bonnie glared into the depths of her eyes attempting to sight the troubles brewing within her. "What is it? Is it the babies?! Are the babies-,"

The blond shook her head as she took Bonnie's face into her palms. "Hali and Asa are slumbering...they're both well." Relief snatched the tension from her shoulders. She wouldn't be able to function if harm ever came to Hali and Asa. Not after..."I've come to speak with you of another matter."

Bonnie's head tilted a bit as she allowed her gaze to creep over the other woman. After a moment of searching the blonde's features, she nodded before releasing her arms to take hold of her hand. Without speaking, she led Torvi down the corridor to her bed chambers. Once inside her room, she closed the door after them. Not wasting anymore time, Bonnie spun on her. It was Torvi however who spoke first.

"I'm aware of what you and Ubbe shared while he drifted in and out of the veil," Torvi said, pinning her with a stare that held no animosity.

Guilt took her down hard and fast. "Torvi-,"

"Please," Torvi raised a hand to silence her. "As a daughter under your dominion it is not my place to question what transpires between you and those who become one with you."

Bonnie's palm drifted to the cradle of her breasts to sooth the sharp stabbing there. "Torvi..." She uttered once more.

Torvi continued as if she didn't hear the plea saturating Bonnie's tone. Instead she lifted her chin and hardened her eyes. "When you and Bjorn longed for the other, I offered you a place in our marriage, but Ubbe..." tears flooded her eyes as she shook her head, "not Ubbe. I-,"

"Shh," Bonnie placed a finger over her lips as her head dipped in agreement. "Not Ubbe."

Torvi brushed her hand away, and then threw herself at Bonnie. Wrapping her arms around Bonnie's neck, the blond took possession of her lips in a searing kiss. Their bodies grinded together in a gratifyingly synergistic merger. Moans and whimpers escaped the press of their lips. As every writhing swirl of their hips vowed to deliver a mind shattering end . For a moment Bonnie allowed the blazing need she'd stoked for Torvi for years to melt her ever slipping restraint.

Acting on instinct alone, she reached up to unlace Torvi's overdress. The blond snatched out of her arms. As she backed away a yearning which mirrored Bonnie's own rippled across her friends face. After a moment longer of holding her gaze Torvi whirled about and tore out of the room. Abandoning her to the blazing flames of a scorching fire they'd both created. Devastated and fuckstrated beyond contemplation, Bonnie could only stare at the now empty space in front of her gaping bedroom door.

The air around shifted and thickened. Shit!

"It's time, Bennett," Silas voice floated to her from just over her shoulder. Effectively managing to douse the rampant rage of her need, while also multiplying her embarrassment.

Bonnie's eyes slipped closed as she tried to gather just an illusion of her calm and collected self, "I know."

****

Ivar plunged his blade in the spy's chest a final time. As the glow of life drained from the man's gaping stare, he rolled off his would be stalker and slithered to the small watering hole to wash the gore from his face and palms. Carefully, he inched himself as close as he dared to the edge of the bank. He then leaned forward to dip his hands in the water. In that moment the clouds moved pass the moon. Brilliant beams fell to Midgard, casting the pond in a wraithlike glow. He caught sight of his reflection upon the surface of the water. Whispering voices rose like steam from the tarry pool...memories from the past solstice cycles hurtled back to him...

"And what place is of more import than here?"

"Our home, brother," Hvitserk words was the beginning to their end. "Kattegat."

"We can always stay here. It's not like fate doesn't know where to find us..." The haunting sound of his love's voice pained his chest.

"This is something Hvitserk and I must do. Lagertha must answer for what she has done to my mother. Has this wound not festered long enough, hmm?" Oh how he regretted those words...that decision.

One after the other, more condemning memories came for him. Each convicted him, assuring him his sentence of banishment was more than just.

"When Bonnie discovered you with the slave girl she fled York and gave herself to the Wessex Prince." Hvitserk took hold of the front of his tunic and yanked him close until their noses nigh touched. "What do you suspect she would do this time if she found you to have been untrue once more?"

Hvitserk had warned him of the end he pursued. Why hadn't he heeded him? He should've heeded him!

"Let's just leave. You, me, and Hvits. We can go anywhere you want. Back to England, to Frankia, hell open a map and point to a spot. I don't care, let's just go, babe." Once again her voice filled his mind.

"What is wrong with you? Do you know who I am? Do you know with whom you've agreed to enter matrimony?" He spat through the slits of his teeth. "Lagertha killed my mother! My mother! She killed her in a way which makes her no better than a murdering coward. I don't expect you to understand what it is to have a mother such as mine die in such a lowly way. How could you, hmm? No one has ever loved you as my mother loved me." Lies! He lived and breathed her in a way which put even love to shame. "So this time I shall forgive you for attempting to tear me away from my purpose. For I will kill Lagertha, and nothing, not Bjorn or even you will stop me from avenging my mother."

She wept herself to slumber that eve.

Without lending consideration to his actions, he plunged the blade into the back of the only woman he'd ever loved. A shrill screech tore through the hall and nigh bled his ears to silence. Then everything ceased. The wind swirling about stilled. Freydis' writhing calmed. The revelers screams muted. All halted, except Bonnie. She turned about to face him.

"Thank you," she wheezed through sprays of spittle. A genuine smile contorted her blood stained lips. "now I'm tr-truly-," she coughed and more blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, "f-free."

What a contradiction they made. He'd taken her life and in turn she'd preserved his. Her sorcery took leave of his body that eve, but her heart had fled his grasp long before then.

XXXX

Bonnie was his path...his reason. Now she'd sought her leave his steps no longer had a purpose or a way. Continued existence upon Midgard no longer held meaning to him. Ivar placed his blade to his throat. He no longer had a taste for survival or the possibility for what came next.

"And yet survival stalks you, while possibility clings to every impending pound of your heart."