When you closed your eyes it came all back to you, the pain, the blood, everything. You thought that battle was going good for you but now it looked like a bear clawed you open. Or at least it felt that way, in some thought you wished it ripped you all open, draining you out ... Valhalla would be kinder on you than the feeling you had known. Your fingers scouted the tremendous wound, running from your temple, towards your ear and then all the way down over your throat, a wound that was inches thick and would stain your skin forever. There weren't many reflections for you to look at but wherever there was a puddle of water or a piece silverware, you looked at yourself and asked who by the gods would want you like this.

You didn't came much outside, after weeks of healing the wounds were still in need of treatment but you managed on your own. You avoid whatever friendship you had here in Kattegat and with that came off course that stubborn brat, Ivar. He didn't saw you, or at least, he didn't saw the wounds yet. You were looking in an old rusty mirror, trying to treat the massive wound with an ointment when the door flew open. You looked over your good shoulder and looked right back when you saw him crawling in.

'Get out Ivar!' You lashed out.

'I'm sick of you Y/n.' His voice was so dangerously low that you knew you couldn't step his toes now, but you didn't care, because you were the wounded one, you could be the arrogant one for now.

'You should understand it at least, being a cripple.' You sneered turning your back in the way he crawled. You felt the weight in the bed shift when he pulled himself on it.

'Look at me.' He demanded it quite calm. You ignore that demand. 'Look at me!' He shouted. You jerked your head around, looking at him. His lips opened a little when he saw that wound run down from your temple to your throat.

'Are you happy now? Guess you're not the only monster anymore.' You hissed, staring him right in the eyes. He looked over that wound before his jaws clenched carefully together, his fists shaking on his position while he slowly breathed in.

'Who did it?' He asked, controlled.

'He is already dead.' You muttered, turning back away from him.

'Shame, I had far bigger plans whit the one who did this to you if he was still alive.' The promise stroking his tone made you swallow.

'Don't.'

'If you stop ignoring me I just might stop threatening everybody who points at you in the wrong way. Y/n, look at me.' His voice softened a little in the end. You swallowed again before turning around to him. He looked at your face, not your wound. 'You know how attractive battle scars are these days.' He said, tilting his head to measure your reaction, you couldn't laugh. He signed. 'I'm not judging beside,' he felt silence, placing his finger underneath your chin. 'shouldn't monsters not stay together?' He asked. You frowned your eyebrows, what caused the wound to stretch and made you growl in pain. 'Monsters don't cry, don't start crying.' He warned you.

'It isn't funny.' You reacted. He chuckled, reaching for the ointment you were using. 'No.' You protested.

'Let me help, let your friend help.'

'You're not my friend.' You stated.

'What am I then? More?' He asked curious. You looked away and he pulled you down, treating your wounds with that satisfied smile on his lips. He won.