"It's all for you... everything I do. I tell you all the time: "Heaven is a place on Earth with you." Tell me all the things you want to do..."

chapter VIII, act I ✧ 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔

hopped onto the chariot. Completely exhausted from war and her little ordeal with her husband. She sat quietly, unbraiding her hair and hoping Ivar had already settled where they would be sleeping for the night while she tried to catch her breath inside one of the spaces in the empty church.

The Ragnarsson guided the horses towards one of the cabins inside the huge walls they had just conquered. The girl jumped out of the vehicle faster than she thought she could, and quickly enough, she was on the bed, kicking her feet into the air as she eagerly tried to rid herself of her boots.

Groaning, she finally managed, and as she did, Ivar climbed into bed with her. Plopping down next to the wolf and staring at the ceiling, his chest heaving as he smiled softly, it had been yet another great day.

In an unspoken agreement, Ivar ripped off his armor and took off his undershirt, giving it to her, she nodded quietly and kicked off her pants before taking away all her clothing and pulling her husband's shirt over her head.

He grinned at the sight and held her close. Gods, how he was grateful for that woman.

bbe and Hvitserk scowled at the small girl in between them. She only chuckled in response, not letting their hands go, soon the men's cheeks were burning red at all the confused stares they were getting, oh no, Vikings were certainly not known for walking around swinging hands.

They wanted to pull away, but in all honesty, they couldn't. The girl's happiness was contagious.

The trio soon approached where the love of the lady's life was supposed to be, but as they did, a group of bulky warriors stepped in front of them, blocking their passage.

Nero's soft expression suddenly turned cold with her abrupt stop. Her dark, wild hair clashed against her face and her hands pulled away from the Lothbroks as she unclasped her axe from its holder on her back.

She was not in the mood to talk. Not with them anyway.

The fighters shifted slightly on their feet at how dangerous she looked. In all truth, she expected such idea from her lover, but blocking her was not something she ever expected.

His brothers? Yes. But his wolf? Never.

The wolf touched the tip of her weapon on one of the shields, pushing it back slightly.

Just as an annoyed groan left her lips at the fact that it was still morning and she would have to fight so early, Ubbe pushed her axe away, standing in between the girl and the shield, "Let us through."

The men pushed further against the trio, ignoring his order. No one, no one disobeys a Ragnarsson.

"Do you know who we are?"

"I know who you are," the commander offered, not backing down. His impressive height towering over Ubbe and Hvitserk, which meant that the girl could barely touch his upper arm. She swallowed the need to scream out for her husband and beat him to death for his stupid actions, "what do you want?"

The oldest son of Aslaug began growing amused. Hvitserk quickly laced an arm around Nero's shoulder, holding her in her place so she wouldn't go all wolf on the great warriors they were facing, "I want to speak to my brother Ivar, now, get out of my way."

If it wasn't for the mere fact that they had an upcoming war and would need all the men they had. Hvitserk would most likely have urged her on.

"I'll ask him and see if it's alright," the white-haired man once again bellowed, his voice dangerous and challenging. How fucking stupid of him. To challenge the wolf, and two Ragnar-born.

Untangling herself from her friend, Nero pushed Ubbe back by positioning herself in between the discussing duo. The chief's gaze instantly grew softer and she internally gagged.

All Vikings were fond of the girl. For the wrong reasons, unfortunately.

Of course, they knew she was a great fighter, and of that part of her, they were scared. But the part of her that lived peacefully, was not only a sight for sore eyes, but was also rumored to be a great lay.

The tiny girl stood on her tiptoes and held onto the nape of the commander's neck with the hand that was not busy with the axe, pulling him down to her height with such strength that he had no other choice but oblige.

His features became lustful and for a moment he licked his lips, thinking of all he had heard of her. Oh how he had indeed heard of her, Hvitserk was not one to keep many secrets.

She grinned, her breath fanning against his ear in an almost melodic note, "You have two choices, big man. One is to let your leader's wife and his brother's through, or I will drop this axe right here, and I will maul you with my bloody teeth and nails, understood?"

He wasn't sure why he was terrified. If it was for her sweet tone that sent shivers across his spine. If it was for the fact that she was married to Ivar The Boneless. Or if it was for the compromise and honesty behind her threat.

He motioned for his men to back off, and they obeyed before fidgeting slightly, noticing the hidden fear in the boss' voice.

The girl was fuming.

She left her staying place with Ivar in the morning to fix her blades with her loved blacksmith, she had a nice breakfast with her two loved Ragnarssons, she was having a great day until she tried to reach her loved husband.

She had left for four hours, max, and when she returned, she returned to an army holding shields? Shields? Out of all cowardly things they could be wielding, shields were his choice?

" Ubbe! Hvitserk! Wi—"

"Don't you dare wife me now!" she growled, and the man who was tattooing Ivar flinched, stopping for a moment, noticing how murderous she was.

As they approached him, she noticed the fact that he was shirtless and she cursed him for being so irresistible to her.

There was not a single part of her body that wasn't attached to him atomically.

She turned her back on him, facing the wall and pinching the bridge of her nose. Her face red with anger and now... lust as well.

"Did you take a look around? The work on strengthening the defenses is going well," he continued, smirking smugly at the effect he had on her and pretending he had done nothing wrong.

"Why do you need a personal bodyguard, Ivar?" Ubbe questioned, rubbing his face with his hands in annoyance, he couldn't believe his brother.

His actions mirrored exactly what the standing trio felt.

Ivar looked at him, innocence splattered on his face, "We were just stopped by your bodyguards. Why do you need them? Hmm? Do you need protection against us? Against your brothers? Against your wolf?"

The man who was tattooing Ivar once again stopped, making Ivar dismiss him entirely. The poor man was not sure who scared him the most, the cripple, or the wolf.

"Of course not." Nero was borderline giving up on her husband.

Who did he think he was? Did he think he was bloody Odin? To need personal bodyguards... to guard him... from his fucking wife?

"Then why have them?" Hvitserk questioned, his face becoming serious for a second but the three others present knew he was amused by the interaction that was happening. He couldn't help it, how could he? In all truth, the entire situation was indeed funny.

"I'm a cripple. I need a bodyguard," he explained, pausing his every word, and the wolf grunted, her arms slapping her sides in annoyance as she finally turned to face him.

He was deadlier than any other men she knew and he would use that bullshit of an excuse?

"Seriously? You are one of the st—" she began, turning towards him, but was soon interrupted by Ubbe, who knew her words would do nothing but boost his ego, even if that wasn't the intention.

"It's not just the bodyguard, Ivar. The fact is, you never seem to consult us about anything. It's as if you think you are now the leader of our Great Army. Do you think you are the leader?" he taunted, his hands resting on his knees as he crouched to speak to his sitting brother, a dangerous glow behind his eyes.

Nero made use of his interruption, allowing her eyes to travel his form and feeling her anger slowly dissipate. She clenched her eyes and sighed, turning back to him once again. She was mad. Well, she was trying to be mad.

"No, I don't," it was really obvious that he did, "why would I ever think such a thing?"

"I'm glad to hear you say that because you are not the leader. We, three brothers, are the leaders together," Ubbe continued, he was challenging Ivar's position.

Nero and Hvitserk knew the two were bound to fight at some point and though that scared them to no end, that was not a worry for the moment.

The two looked at each other, trying to fight off the laughs that were threatening to fall off their lips at how interesting the whole ordeal was becoming.

"As our father would have wished."

At the mention of Ragnar, Nero groaned and walked away from the three. No longer wishing to hear them discuss and no longer being able to hide her amusement at such.

She watched from afar, drinking mead straight from the bottle since she knew the next few days would be spent sober and in war.

The wolf chugged the drink, the people around the table she now stood at watched her in fear and surprise. She had truly brought a reputation for herself.

As the two oldest brothers finally left, Nero made her way to Ivar, making the man who was tattooing, flinch, she almost hugged at how easy he was to scare.

"You need to stop doing shit like this," she groaned throwing her hands up and he smiled at her, pulling the girl to sit on his lap as the tapping on his back began.

She faced him, his hands on either side of her, holding onto the table that she rested her back on.

"I need them to understand that if I wanted to..." Ivar drawled, looking at her in the eyes as their foreheads touched, she laid her hands on his chest, controlling her Viking need to have him right there. The boy's ambition made her eager, made her powerful, "I could take the army all to myself."

"Ivar... they are your brothers, the only family you have left," she explained, though deep down (or maybe not so deep down), she wanted him to have as much power as he would ever want, as he would ever need. She wanted him to have it all.

"That is not true. I have you now," Ivar reasoned, his gaze leaving hers and moving to her hand, where her promise ring was beautifully placed.

She tilted her lips up, meeting his in a quick peck, she could feel his love for her radiating off of him.

Her chest, though heavy at the thought of Ivar not having what he wanted, raised and she leaned into him further, but carefully not to bother the man working on his back.

She peaked at the tattoo, smirking at the fact that the artist was carving into skin that was marked red with her fingerprints.

Quietly, and hoping to preserve the last of her family, she sighed, "Love, I am serious. You need to speak to them before doing such things."

"If that is what you want... then I will."