"True hell begins when the battle ends and you're the only one whose hands still drip red."

chapter VIII, act III ✧ 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍

tend to conform easily. Vikings did not differ from the rest, getting used to pain and suffering and heartbreak and hurt.

So why was she surprised when he broke her once again? Once and for all?

Nero had been sitting in the tub for Odin knows how long. Wishing and hoping partially that she would become part of the water and simply dissolve.

Ubbe and Hvitserk had taken good care of her while she lay drunk and quiet in one of the thrown beds in their cabin. They gave her food that she refused to eat and support that she refused to accept. Thankfully, the Christians were approaching, and war was soon to begin, which simply had to lift the girl's spirit.

She had feasted and now she waited in the bathing area. Waited for her head to lighten and for her hangover to be miraculously cured. Sighing and realizing that such simply wouldn't happen, especially not in the presence of the servant Ivar had sent, she stood and dried herself, quickly pulling on her simple black under armor clothing, leaving the servant by the tub and ridding herself of the blonde's touches.

The small girl had braided Nero's hair perfectly and the wolf offered her a kind smile even though she had been disgusted on the inside.

Ivar was as good as dead to her. He had explained his point to his brothers and they couldn't quite process why the act hurt Nero so. Ubbe had gone through the same with Margarethe, that was simply no big deal.

In his head, he was entirely right but he still carried their ring wrapped tightly around his finger. Even though he knew Nero did not carry hers.

Knowing how she loved her solitude, the cripple decided to annoy her into speaking to him. They were both too proud. And Nero hated how he had put servants after her every move, but she was too hurt to care

Nothing seemed to reach her any longer, not anymore.

She was beaming with happiness at the opportunity to unleash her anger.

Hvitserk and Ubbe weren't as worried about her as they had been previous to Ivar's explanation. His only mistake was to share and in the mind of the two brothers who just happened to share a servant, there was no wrongdoing in that.

Even when they knew she would be fine after war, they were scared of her and for her. The girl had been speechless since she left her husband's side and the brothers were beginning to miss her softly dangerous words.

Her braided hair was as dark as the kohl that she wore proudly for the first time since her father left.

Nero stood in her black leather armor, axe in hand, knives around her thighs. Underneath all that darkness, her nose was running, her eyes were bloodshot, her head was spinning.

She hated playing cat and mouse with her prey. So instead of following Ivar's plan, she simply waited until the moment of the bloodshed to jump in. Ubbe did not question her decision, he knew she needed action and the games would only make her more annoyed.

So she waited. Quietly licking her lips as she and other warriors held out for the first battle of the day. Nero needed to feel warm again, even if that warmth came from the insides of her enemies.

With open arms, she came out of the mist that encompassed all warriors that sided by her, daring anyone and everyone to strike her. Her eyes skimmed the Saxons and she breathed in, covering up her laughter at their excuse of an army.

The two groups found themselves in one of the many squares in their town, the number of places they could run to was slim.

The wolf felt nothing until her eyes found Aethelwulf's. He had changed, but his soul still held on to hope, which she couldn't help but admire, how can one still hold on after so many failings?

The king felt her burning stare, and when he finally forced himself to look in the direction where he was sure the devil herself stood, his gaze softened. She was the most beautifully dangerous thing he had ever seen.

Her open arms were soon paired with a smile. She nodded her head at him just as her warriors ran into battle. She felt their heavy bodies collide with her arms when she too followed into the bloodshed.

With a scream, she sprinted to one of the Saxons. His green eyes, filled with fear at the sight of the famous wolf, his quivering chin showing from underneath the thick helmet, she grinned, "Only cowards hide their faces in war."

The rumors had been true... she was the prettiest devil to ever be.

Her body was shaking when she brought her knee up and kicked at the man's chest, bringing him to the ground before recomposing herself and with the same smile, hurling her axe down at his throat.

Blood splattered on her face as she retrieved her weapon, her tongue darted to her suddenly dry lips. Nero's heart faltered. She tasted the crimson liquid. It tasted like iron and victory... it tasted like pain and love... it tasted like her husband.

She clenched her eyes.

Slowed her breathing.

And for the first time ever since her father left, she forced herself to once again fight for her Gods and Valhalla.

"Odin, father. Tyr, brother. Fenrir, fighter. Show me what I must do," she begged, feeling the air around her move with the strength of each battle that took place by her.

The sharp sound of metal hitting the floor suddenly brought her back. She opened her eyes and what was once light brown became as dark as the night sky.

The Saxons wouldn't dare near her, and such was beginning to get annoying... she was never one to chase. With a grunt, she taunted dangerously towards the wall of Christians which blocked one of the passages to yet another town square.

They visibly swallowed. Breathed in. And simply awaited as she threw her axe at the man in the middle, the weapon digging into his stomach.

The wolf engaged in a sprint to get back her loved blade, her body dodging the fights around as the group of Christians began encircling her, readying themselves for her next move. Readying themselves to end the devil, or at least try.

Without thinking twice, she unsheathed her knives and when her enemies finally closed a circle around her, she nodded and tilted her head up.

The girl did the one thing that would prove her insanity and would manage to scare even more the Jesus' believers — she howled.