"Distance will swallow us for breakfast one day. But I will still love you."

chapter III, act I ✧ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔

had woken up early, freeing herself from Hvitserk's arms. She threw on one of Sigurd's pants, knowing they would fit.

Her boots barely got off the floor with each step she took, she was emotionally and mentally drained. Her thoughts drifted in between Ivar and Hvitserk.

As she thought about the kind, blonde boy, her guts fluttered and a sly smile crossed her lips, but once her mind focused on the murdering Ragnarsson, her stomach turned, thinking of him and his servant. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands.

The small gift for her king felt heavy in her pocket. She walked towards the town's market, hoping to finally be able to buy her knives, they would surely be needed in her raid.

Her feet stopped once she reached the blacksmith. He looked at her, one of his biggest clients, with a smile he motioned for her to come in, "Knives? Axe?"

"Knives," she yawned, nodding. He tossed her his nearest knife, knowing she would catch it regardless if she had seen it coming or not.

The weapon was soon in her hands, she weighted the darkly painted silver, a forged twist karambit, her skin glowed dangerously and beautifully with the fire that burned right next to her. She toyed with it, the ring on the edge of the knife spinning around her indicator.

The weight was perfect, it was quite practical and it would replace her damaged weapon just fine. With a toothy grin, she tossed a coin at the man she had grown to be friends.

Just as she walked out, Ivar crawled in, a smile on his face as he looked up at the blacksmith, but, with a shaky breath, Nero gathered courage, "Ivar... can I speak with you?"

He hummed briefly and she looked at her friend, he gave her a sigh at the fact that he had to leave his own store, yet complied with the beautiful girl's wishes. She sat down, facing the fire as she watched the flames, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her nervousness.

"I wish for you to know, that I love you... I always have. Even if I do not understand the feeling completely. And— I know you are going to England, and I know I'm leaving as well, but if I die, which I might..." another shaky breath left her lips, "I can't die knowing that I haven't told you, how much I truly love you Ivar, hearing about you and Margarethe broke me and I wasn't strong enough to pretend it didn't, I wasn't strong enough to say what bothered me when I should have."

"Stop speaking, wolf." He grunted, turning away from her at her tasteless sense of comedy.

"Yeah — I believe the boats will be sailing soon." She sighed, still not looking into his eyes, her own beginning to fill with tears that reflected red and orange, "But... I guess I just wanted you to know how I felt, even if you wish to marry that slave."

"Nero. Why would you ever say that to a cripple, for a joke?"

Her eyes snapped to him, dangerously dark, "You know me enough to understand that I would never lie to you. And that your disability has never been an issue, not to me."

"I don't believe you."

"Do you love me?" she questioned, knowing that if he did, he would stop with that nonsense and simply answer.

"I don't believe you, Nero."

"I suppose that's a no then," she smiled, biting back her tongue as tears fell down her eyes, she hated how she waited years to tell him all she felt, and he failed to trust her words.

If that was love, she understood why Ragnar had gone mad. Swallowing her need to scream at him, she buried her desire, she buried her love. She walked out the door before he could say anything else.

Nero's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sounds of cheers and laughter booming through the market. Her feet followed the sound and before she knew she was leaning against one of the tents, her arms crossed over her chest as Ragnar threw coins and pieces of jewelry at the farmers.

She laughed, the great king was insane, she rubbed her eyes to rid of the tears, yet her face remained red. Just as she was about to leave, she remembered the gift she had for him, "Aye, mad king!"

Her voice instantly sparked his attention as he walked up to her, placing his hands on her arms, "Will you sail to Wessex with me?"

"We've been over this, Ragnar," she laughed, his eyes were almost white under the sun, "but, before you leave to England, I need you to take this."

He looked down at what she had placed in his hand. A cross, beautifully detailed in wood, in the way that only someone mentored by Floki could.

She hated carving wood or building things in general, still, when she was younger and her father told her about Ragnar's appreciation for the Christians, she carved a cross, hoping that her king would come back one day.

"Don't take me wrong, I hate the Christians but — I think I love you, Ragnar Lothbrok, you are the greatest man to ever step on Earth, and I will respect your love for the Christian god," she explained, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

She hated the Christians, but Ragnar was above that, both to her and to her father, even if he didn't let it show.

Ragnar didn't respond, still looking at the piece of wood in his hands, looking at the back, three names were carved: Floki, Lagertha, Athelstan, "I wanted for them to be there for you in your suicide raid. And uh, I thought of making it in wood because I've been told your god is a carpenter."

She smiled, but he knew that she meant that she wanted them to be there for him when he died. He smiled, tears welling up in his eyes, as he pulled her into a hug, she gladly accepted it, feeling nothing but honored, "Take care of my sons, Nero Gunnolf."

"I will, Ragnar Lothbrok."

She never broke a promise.

A shaky breath left her lips as she approached the docks.

She saw Ubbe, Sigurd and Aslaug watching the boats, she smiled and ran to them, embracing the oldest boy from behind as he almost jumped in surprise, turning around to return her embrace, "And I thought you had run away."

"I wouldn't... not before a raid!" she exclaimed, scrubbing some of the unwanted tears that still ran down her face.

"May the gods be with you, Nero Gunnolf!" he gushed, kissing the top of her head before slightly pushing her in Sigurd's direction.

"Hvitserk is a lucky man, may you wear the blood of your enemies."

"You know I will, Sigurd, you know I will." Nero smiled, her eyes lighting up as the excitement of a raid kicked in, she pulled away from the boy, deciding not to mention his comment of his brother, instead, she faced Aslaug, "May the gods be with you, my queen."

"Let's go, wolf!" Hvitserk called her from inside one of the ships, her smile widened at his voice, she whipped around and ran towards the boy, the wind whisking on her face as it gleamed with enthusiasm, she jumped, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms snaked around her waist, "Missed me, I see."

"Have I? Who was calling for me?" she pondered, her eyes looking at every inch of his lovely face, he put her on the ground and smirked, looking down at her. He quickly pecked her lips, pulling away before walking off, pretending to not have done a thing, "Minx."

"Wolf!" her father called, his body leaning on the dragon that stood at the bow of the boat, she quickly joined him, feeling the wind once again even when they had just begun sailing. She smiled brightly.

"This has to be one of your best ones," she praised, her hand curling around the soft details on the wood, his eyes gleamed with pride and need for adventure.

She climbed up further onto the dragon and howled, her father doing the same. In another boat, Harald and Halfdan howled as well, chuckling as did.

Björn soon followed, when she stopped they all did, holding their stomachs with laughter, "You will make history with this raid, Bear Ironside!"

"We will make history," Björn cheered pulling her off the dragon and into his arms, spinning her around before putting her down and ruffling her hair, she squealed, running from him as her neatly-done braids got messy, usually, she wouldn't mind, but she needed to look presentable to the gods.

"Just like the old times, you annoying bear!" she huffed, sitting down on the bottom of the boat as her back rested on the seat behind her. She quickly undid her hair, her mind traveling back to when Björn chased after her in a boat much like that.

Hvitserk settled on the seat behind her, his legs around the girl as he began redoing the braids on her hair, his fingers running softly over her scalp, "Minx, huh?"

"Well... you tease me too much to remain with your old nickname," she pouted, her arms crossing over her chest, he stood finished braiding, he stood up and helped her stand up as well, he looked down at her, his features covered by playfulness, he loved that pout, "I am not going to touch you, you minx, not when you keep on doing that!"

And with that, she walked towards Helga, smiling at the blonde lady. Hvitserk laughed, he knew she was just giving him a rough time, he loved that as well.

"Let's go, forget that thing, just crawl!"

"With this, I can walk like a normal man. Get off me!"

"I'm not going to stand around all day watching you try to be normal when you will never be."

"I am normal!"

"No, you're not. Nero loves you and accepts you even with your legs, once you accept that too, that's when greatness will happen." He didn't reply, instead, his thoughts trailed to the girl. She loved him. It hadn't been for a joke.

Ragnar knew all too well, the boy didn't need anyone else. He only needed an anchor, and the girl would gladly provide.

"Frankia," Björn announced, his eyes trailing from his map to the piece of land that surrounded the boats, he looked at Floki, who next to Helga and Nero, tensed up in anger.

Her father had surrounded her eyes with the dark kohl, dragging it down to her cheeks and temples, much like the way he used to wear when he was younger. The girl held in a growl at the thought of those Christians.

"Are you going to try and contact Uncle Rollo?" Hvitserk asked, his voice soft, Nero almost lunged at him, but instead rolled her eyes and sat next to him, hoping to shut him up next time he opened his mouth to say something such as that.

She looked at Björn for his answer, but he gave her none his eyes strained on the approaching boats Nero stood up and unsheathed her knife, causing Vit to look at her in worry before standing up as well. Her eyes found Halfdan's in another boat, and she restrained herself from jumping and beginning a war.