"It may end badly one life, but the next life will be better."

chapter IV, act I ✧ 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍-𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓

"... we made it?" Nero breathed out. The view was simply stunning, the sea, as blue as it can be.

They all stood side by side, and Nero had to hold onto Hvitserk's hand to make sure it wasn't all a dream, to make sure it wouldn't vanish when she blinked.

"We made it, Ironside," Harald spoke, his voice bringing more meaning and more certainty to the wolf's words.

"At last, the Mediterranean," he reassured, his voice filled with a tired pride. They were all smiling, "this is further than our people have ever gone."

At his words, Hvitserk looked down at Nero, their eyes reflecting playfulness and pride from one to the other. She stood on her tippy toes and pecked his lips. They made history, they had made their gods proud.

"Further than Ragnar dreamed," he continued, but Nero wasn't listening anymore, the sound of crows was becoming unbearable to her ears, louder and louder by each second.

Her head seemed to spin when she turned around and watched the many black birds, flying in circles over the island. A shiver ran down her spine and she took steps towards the animals, soon Björn and Hvitserk followed, feeling the same strange sensation.

"How the little piggies will grunt, when they hear how the old boar suffered."

Ragnar. She placed her hands on her temples, trying to believe she was going crazy rather than believing she had actually heard her king's voice. Deep down, she knew he meant the message to be for those who he had left a mission for.

She would avenge him, much like the other two boys. She didn't have to ask if they had heard his voice too, Björn was faster.

His eyes filled with tears, his nose red, "Hvitserk, did you hear him too?"

"Yes," she intertwined their fingers, giving his hand a slight tug of comfort. She knew that meant his father was dead.

Once they tore their gazes away from each other, they managed to look back at the mountain, a man dressed in black stood there, a certain darkness covering a side of his face. One of his eyes, missing.

Her breath hitched in her throat. She knew him. She knew the man and the overwhelming feeling of power that came with him. Odin.

"My father is dead," Björn announced, and Nero's heart sank. He turned to face his brother and her.

She hugged him, feeling his tears wetting her cheeks. Hvitserk joined their hug, wrapping his arms around the two, it was safe to say that the two had spent more time with Ragnar than he had, more time with Ragnar than him, Ivar and Sigurd.

Her hands trembled and her eyes watered. She felt weak. Part of her... missing. She refused to tell Floki, she couldn't do it.

Anger stroke her like lightning, suffered, he had suffered. And there would be Hel to pay, for whoever made her family suffer.

"Are you going to go home?" Björn questioned, seeing Christian boats approaching theirs. It had been a long ride, but not long enough to erase the doings against his father. Hvitserk knew the same, even though he longed for his family, his uncle.

"I know what I have to do," Rollo mumbled, before turning to face the whole boat, his chest high and chin higher.

Nero almost scoffed at the sight, but didn't, she knew in his heart, he never stopped believing in their gods, and that his ambition, was merely moved by being in the shadow of someone greater than you.

"I want to make you all an offer. Anyone from our homelands who wants good, rich lands to farm can come and live in my kingdom. There will always be a part of Frankia which is a part of us."

"Us?" Floki questioned, his arms crossed over his chest, he looked at Ragnar's brother incredulously, "You are no longer a part of "us," Rollo."

"But what is "us," Floki, is changing." He reasoned, taking a sharp breath to not lose his mind. The boat swayed back and forth, and the water seemed to glisten an even lighter blue than usual, "Only you won't accept it."

"We... may be changing, Rollo." Nero stepped up, walking next to her father, "But who will such "us" be, if we don't stand by the same gods, if we don't stand by those who we love, if we don't stand by our families?"

Cheers and hums of agreement sounded after her words.

"And so I say the same to you," Rollo offered, looking at Björn, his heart clenching at the truth in Nero's words, "and you, Hvitserk. Even you, hound."

She nodded at him. For her, to be called hound was not an offense, but rather, a dismissal of the threat he knew she presented. Björn looked at his people, then at the Christian, "Too much bad blood, Rollo."

Hvitserk walked behind his girl, his chin resting on top of her head as he hugged her waist, "Once a betrayer, always a betrayer."

He couldn't see it, but she smiled at his words. They couldn't ignore what he had done to Ragnar and to his own people, to his own gods.

Just as he stepped out of the boat, a small voice wished him goodbye, "Goodbye Helga. I won't forget, I won't forget anything."

Nero hugged Hvitserk, hiding her face in his chest. He toyed with her hair, holding her close. Something told her that they wouldn't be lovers for long. He could feel it too.

And they weren't hurt about it, they had no hard feelings about it. Deep down, they knew they loved each other, but they knew they weren't meant to be together, not in that way. They loved each other but... they couldn't deny that they loved those two bloody bastards in Kattegat more.

Nothing they could ever have achieved would've made mattered once Nero locked eyes with Ivar, once Hvitserk locked eyes with Margarethe.

They sailed for days until they could see their hometown.

Nero's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of many towers, Aslaug wouldn't have built those, would she? Björn, Hvitserk, and Floki looked at her as well, all sharing the same look.

Nero looked at the oldest Ragnarsson her face ablaze with panic, Aslaug wouldn't have tried to create defenses for Kattegat, Lagertha would. As soon as their boats set on the docks, Björn rushed out with his warriors. Understanding the look on Nero's face and guessing the same.

Hvitserk didn't seem to find anything out of the ordinary, he simply thought things seemed... out of place. Maybe because of all his time away.

"Vit... I need to tell you something," she began, trying to distract him and making the boy happy while he still could, while the truth remained hidden. His face became stoic, serious, he urged her on, "I think I am..."

"Oh, gods!" he interrupted, his face gleaming with fear, excitement, and confusion. Was he to be a father? He had always dreamed of a family. Of being a father who wouldn't abandon his children.

Nero almost burst out giggling, but she held it in.

Her hands trailed over to her own stomach slowly, lovingly, before slipping under her armor and into the hidden pocket, pulling out one of the many golden coins she had stolen, "RICH!"

His jaw dropped and she roared with laughter, clutching her stomach at his face, oh, as if a warrior such as she would get pregnant.

He frowned and threw her over his shoulder, like he had always done, running to the edge of the dock and threatening to throw her in, the sun beginning to set. She grabbed onto him like a cat. Latching herself onto him as hard as physically possible.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," she breathed out in between fits of laughter, not being able to contain herself, "Oh Odin, you should have seen your face."

"You little minx!" he chuckled, walking towards the shore and his old hall, where Björn welcomed him with the worst news he possibly could have.

Lagertha gave Nero a cabin she could call her own, as a reward for the day she saved the queen's life when she was just a child. She gave the gift through Björn, as the woman guessed the girl wouldn't be so keen on seeing her.

Nero walked in, tired from the raid and from being inside a boat for that long. Yet, when she looked back, she saw Hvitserk standing by the door, his eyes filled with tears that did not come out when his older brother told him about what had happened to his mother.

The poor boy had already been strong enough. He didn't weep for Ragnar, but now, it was all coming to him. She walked out pulling him by the hand no matter how dark it was becoming.

Nero allowed her boots to snap any twigs and branches underneath her feet, her mind dizzy with the fact that the Ragnarssons would drift apart. Björn wouldn't side with them. And they wouldn't give up on their revenge.

They walked in silence, stopping by her shore where she got two rags and a block of soap. They kept on walking and the boy didn't question her, he didn't question anything. He didn't know who to trust, nor who to love.

He hated how he was crying in front of her. But he loved how he was crying in front of her just the same. He knew she wouldn't judge him for it. He knew she would take care of him, just like she would take care of any other of his brothers, just maybe not using the same methods.

Nero wanted to tear Lagertha apart for the pain she had brought to Hvitserk. She wanted to rip the skin off her bones... but she couldn't. Not when it would hurt Björn just as much. Not when it would scar Ragnar's memory.

"Cry, Ragnarsson, cry because the next days will be hard work and revenge," she whispered, tugging at his hand when they came to a stop at one lake, in the middle of the now darkening forest, "and only then, tears, but tears of happiness."

The boy looked numb, he was holding his breath in a desperate attempt to stop his tears. She sighed at the sight, she hated seeing him so sad, so broken. The trees looked like giants in the dark, protecting them from whatever was outside the small lake. The moon gleamed, giving them just enough light.

The girl peeled off the layers of his furs and his clothing before taking off her own clothing and pulling him inside the lake, along with the soap. All he could do, was look at her, his tears finally stopping.

She rubbed the soap in between her hands, creating foam, with her hands filled with it, she placed it on his cheeks, "Look, you finally have a worthy beard."

Her eyes were gleaming under the moonlight, and she was smiling kindly. He chuckled weakly and she cleaned off his face. The stars looked like they were putting on a show for their arrival. Setting them to sleep.

He breathed out and in again, feeling the cold air invade his lungs. Soothing but painful.

She washed his hair and his body, softly but thoroughly, ridding of all salt from the days at the sea. She scrubbed his scalp, gently massaging it, suddenly, he hugged her waist, hiding his face on her neck as she tensed up, in shock, before she gently continued.

His breathing became uneven and she knew he was once again crying.

If he hadn't been with her, he would have held in his cries. He would have pretended to be strong, but he knew he could be weak with her, they were soul mates, but not the type of soul mates that belong together in a romantic way.

Odin smiled at the two, glad they finally understood. Oh, how proud was he for their weaknesses and strengths, for their pain and their sorrow.

She rinsed his hair and washed her own quickly. Breathing out, she pulled him outside of the lake, she placed the rag in his hands, so he could dry himself, he did while she did.

She put on her clothes quickly and helped him put on his furs. She grabbed his hands on hers, bringing it to her lips in a soft kiss, the small act made the boy wish to break down crying once again. She tugged him towards her new cabin.

She walked in and he stopped at the door, almost as if asking permission. She sighed and tugged at his hand, pulling the covers down and urging him in, she covered him up to his neck and blew off all the candles in the room.

She laid down next to him, a faint light came from the small cracks on the door, she could see him, the dried tears. She trailed her fingers over his cheek, giving the tip of his nose a small kiss, one that instantly brought a smile to his face.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered, afraid that if his voice was any louder, the warmth he was feeling would leave.

"You never will."

"I don't want to lose this, I mean."

"Maybe one day, Vit, maybe Odin will give us a chance. Maybe one day we will be two strangers meeting for the first time and then we can fall in love, and I know you need me, but you love her, just as I love him."

"Can you stay... for a little longer?" he begged, and she allowed all tears she had been holding in to drop when she heard his voice so broken, he didn't want to ask her to stay, but he needed her to stay.

He was a son of Ragnar Lothbrok, he was never meant to beg. His voice wasn't made for that. And because he had done so, she had finally realized just how broken he truly was.

He was losing his mind over how Ubbe was to marry Margarethe. He was losing his mind over how he loved Nero and she loved him, but not in the way that they should love each other to allow whatever was going on to continue.

She hiccuped. Her mind cursed through all that had happened in the past days. The death of Ragnar had taken a toll on her, she felt broken. She was an orphan and he took her in along with Floki, and now he was gone, just like her parents, and that, opened a gaping hole in her chest.

She hated how the boys she loved so much were all so broken, but most of all, she hated how she and Hvitserk had everything they needed to work, except for the right love, she hated how she loved someone who didn't love her.

Her heart ached, ached in such a way that she wanted to rip it out of her insides and scream at it to get it together.

He watched her cry and rub her eyes with the back of her hands, he gave her time and the space she needed.

"I will stay for as long as you need me to," she promised in between sharp intakes of breaths, "just please stay too."