"As the fire spreads, all that's left are your bones, that will soon sink like stones."

chapter VI, act II ✧ 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

" would like to stay." Harald promised, only then noticing just how badly the family feud could end up.

Nero stood up next to the man as his brother followed, they all looked at each other, their eyes reflecting the same desperate message: 'play along'.

Björn jumped off the princes' table, joining the standing trio. The king smiled brightly, "But I have other plans. Skoll!"

Everyone toasted to his words, knowing his other plans had very much to do with taking over Kattegat.

Halfdan nodded his head at his brother's words, "As for me..." he began and both Nero and Harald turned to face him wide-eyed. As for me? He wouldn't go back with Harald? "I want to go with Bjorn. I want to see the Mediterranean."

"For me as well. I wish to explore with Björn!" Nero's words left her mouth before she could even notice. The way Harald staring holes into Halfdan's head made the girl grow nervous, anxious.

She acted out of pure instinct simply because she had just smiled to herself believing they were inseparable and how great that must have felt like, and now it seemed very nearly over.

"Then it seems, the only thing that really kept the sons of Ragnar together was the death of their father." Björn roared, patting Nero's shoulder in approval, yet her weak legs failed to handle even the slightest of touches, and she fell slightly forward, her hand holding onto the table in front of her stiffly.

Hvitserk's eyes met Nero's only to find them filled with pain. His eyes trailed down her stomach, seeing how the bleeding had taken over the entire medicinal rag that cared for the wound.

He stood up, his knife falling from his hands, causing all the brothers to look at him but he barely noticed. His eyes were trained on her.

The girl was shaking, still, she nodded at him, trying to softly signal that she was alright. That she would be alright.

She groaned inwardly at how sweet he was.

"Poor Bjorn! It is you who doesn't want to keep the army together. It is you who wants to go away to sunny places," Ivar snapped, his eyes glowing so dangerously that the crowd seemed to shy away from his stare, except for Nero, who sought his gaze, but their eyes didn't meet. He was murderous, "everyone else can follow me."

All cheered at his words, but their happiness, as always, was short-lived.

Sigurd took a sip of his drink, his eyes falling on Nero for a split second as she shook her head, begging him not to say anything else, "I do not want to follow you, Ivar."

The boy stood up, his face determined and challenging. Hvitserk looked at Nero, slowly settling back down in his seat, his eyes not leaving the wounded girl. Nero's eyes not leaving Sigurd. Sigurd's eyes not leaving Ivar.

"You are crazy. You have the mind of a child!" he taunted. The wolf began to grow fidgety, their fights never ended well. This one was public, both of their pride were at stake, who would back down and be laughed at? Ragnarssons weren't known for that.

She cursed Sigurd and his big mouth. He had caused enough damage.

"And all you do is play music, Sigurd!" Ivar barely understood nor processed the words that left his own mouth, his body was almost trembling with anger.

The wolf's body was almost trembling with anticipation, nothing good could possibly come out of this. She discretely looked at the sky, her gaze begging Odin to do something, though she knew he wouldn't interfere.

Harald, Björn, and Halfdan watched the scene in fear for the Lothbroks' future.

"I'm just as much a son of Ragnar as you are." Nero's breath hitched in her throat, hoping, praying that Ivar did not answer to that. Hoping that for once they could all walk away unharmed.

Ubbe looked at her, desperation in his eyes that matched hers.

"As far as I remember, Ragnar didn't play the oud," he teased, his eyes glazing over with anger and everyone knew this was not over, not anywhere near over, "and he certainly didn't offer his arse to other men!"

"You make me laugh. Just like you do when you crawl around like a baby." Sigurd hissed making the crowd's laughter die down. He had gone too far.

Harald and Halfdan looked at Nero, their eyes asking her to act before the situation worsened. The train had already derailed, there was only waiting now, nothing they could do.

She shook her head, refusing to believe the scenario that was displaying itself across her eyes. Refusing to believe what was bound to happen, what was fated to happen.

"Shut your mouth!" Ivar's scream held so much power that the king and his brother visibly flinched beside the wolf, yet she kept her head held high and her eyes calculating. She needed to do something, anything.

Björn and Nero exchanged glances, the girl jumped over the table, her wound searing even more as she did. She stood in front of the Ragnarssons. Her face emotionless as she looked at Sigurd, silently telling him to stop. The way she seemed to patronize him only urged him on.

But she was not patronizing. She was begging. And Nero Gunnolf never begs.

"Enough!" the oldest Ragnarsson ordered, his voice booming through the settlement as he followed the girl. The two youngest Lothbroks took their brother's words as a challenge.

"This has nothing to do with you!" as soon as those words left Ivar's mouth, Nero's knees buckled from under her, causing the girl to fall on all fours, she immediately sat back on her knees, her hand clutching the open cut, hoping to stop her bleeding.

"What's the matter, Ivar? You can't take it?" Sigurd teased, Hvitserk almost stood up to reach for the girl, but she waved him off, still watching the fight and knowing she couldn't intervene. If she did, they would never speak to her again. Who was she? To try and stop the Ragnarssons in front of everybody?

"Ivar, do not listen to him," Ubbe mumbled lightheartedly, hoping to settle everyone's words. Unfortunately for him, the fact that he directed his words to the youngest boy made Sigurd grow angrier.

Nero looked up, knowing Ubbe's words were to no avail.

She no longer cared that they would never speak to her again, she needed them to stop before things got out of hand, "Sigurd, don't taunt him, please."

Her soft voice set Ivar on edge and at the same time he wished to back down and fulfill her wishes, he also wanted to end Sigurd for exposing him to her. He decided to soothe the girl's nerves, but his brother spoke once again, his voice laced with venom, "No, I guess it must be hard for you now that your mommy's dead and that Nero's about to be too."

Sigurd had looked at the line, and not only crossed it, but completely ran an entire marathon on the side where he was never supposed to touch.

Ubbe reached out for the cripple, desperately trying to center his attention to anywhere but the blonde boy, "Ivar!"

"Knowing they are the ones who ever really loved you."

Nero forced herself up. Her eyes widening as Ivar grasped his axe and hurled it at Sigurd.

The weapon dug into the boy's ribs, and he stumbled for a moment before regaining conscience, he ripped it off of his own body and stalked dangerously towards Ivar. The wolf could've sworn her at that moment she was completely out of her mind. This couldn't be happening.

Sigurd fell to his knees, his body hitting the floor soon after. Lifeless.

Nero' eyes glazed over, shaking, she stalked towards Harald and Halfdan weakly, refusing to believe in what had just happened, refusing to look at the scene for another mere second. Her eyes filled with tears, her throat burning with the cries she kept inside.

She hurled over, a fit of coughs dominating her as drops of blood fell from her mouth with each effort. Tears slipped down her cheeks as Harald and Halfdan wrapped their arms around her bringing the girl inside one of the settlements and carefully placing her on the bed.

She rested her elbows on her knees. Her face in her hands. She could've sworn the entirety of the world was black, she struggled to breathe, she shook with anxiety.

"Oh, Odin..." her body sobbed with tears and the brothers exchanged worried glances but decided to leave her alone, knowing she would need time.

She woke up and her wound had been tended to. She felt... renewed. It was the middle of the night and she didn't know why her body forced her up. Then it all hit her once again.

Sigurd was dead.

And was killed by Ivar.

And in all truth it was nothing more than expected.

Her sleep was cursed with nightmares of her own death. But her wound seemed to be simply fine, the gaping slit across part of her stomach seemed less deadly than it had been during the first days it was inflicted.

Nero threw herself back on the bed, her head hitting the mattress as she groaned in annoyance. Helga was dead, and now so was Sigurd.

Her mind traveled to the youngest Ragnarsson, her heart ached at his doing but she knew he didn't mean it. Ivar did hate Sigurd sometimes, but they were brothers.

He didn't want to kill his own kin, he never wanted to. But when Nero's name fell off out of Sigurd's mouth, and when he said that she would die... the boy lost it.

Reluctantly, she stood and left her settlement. The guards on the night shift stirred. Their big, bulky bodies guarding the entrance of their camp. She smiled before whistling slightly, grabbing their attention, "Where is Ivar?"

They shuffled a bit before one of the bearded men pointed towards the direction that she soon followed. She opened the door unceremoniously. She knew Ivar needed her more than ever, her shoulder leaned against the door frame, the moonlight coming through from behind her, making her body look like the most beautiful shadow.

Ivar was obviously awake, he couldn't bring himself to sleep, not after what he had done. His eyes widened at the figure at the door, and he sighed, guessing she was there to scream at him. Ivar sat up on the bed, his eyebrows raised almost daring her to go ahead.

At his challenge, she breathed in deeply. She needed to know, she needed to ask him.

"Ivar, what did he mean when he said you were not really a man?" she whispered, looking at him and shaking her head at his expression. Gods, how could someone be so beautiful? His eyes reflected the small light that came from outside, his hair uneven, differently for its usual slicked back style, "Does it have anything to do with our night?"

"When I tried having Margarethe I couldn't get it to work," he snarled, opening his arms as if asking her if she was satisfied, she shook her head once again, looking at him with wonder, he groaned, "I didn't wish to disappoint you."

Nero's eyes widened and she let out the breath she was holding. Ivar's heart felt heavy. The wolf watched him from the door, his eyes left her and moved to the floor before he closed them, clenched them, allowing tears to seep out for the first time after he had done the one thing he would always regret.

He hid his face in his hands and she sighed, climbing into the bed and settling behind him, she laced her hands around his stomach and pulled his back onto her chest, allowing his head to rest on her shoulder.

His breath ragged with his soft cries, and she laid down, bringing him to lay partly on top of her as she supported her back on a pillow. He slipped his arm under the small gap from her body to the bed, his other arm curled around her belly, bringing himself closer to her.

She sighed once again, her breathing slightly shaky at the thought of her love so hurt that he would cry. Nero kissed the top of Ivar's head, one of her hands brushing softly his hair while the other held him close, rubbing soothing patterns on his shoulder.

She knew he would never be that vulnerable around her again, she wouldn't let it. Gods, she wished she had done something to stop him from killing Sigurd, she wished she wasn't so hurt, she wished she was stronger.

Part of her wished she had jumped in front of the boy, part of her wished she had taken the axe to her stomach instead, Ivar had killed his own sibling, and he would never fully recover.

He fell asleep crying, and she held him as he did.

They were together now, and may Odin help whoever tried to get in between them.