"I'm sorry we couldn't offer you little more comfort while residing with us." Genuineness threaded itself through Torvi words as she watched while Bonnie settled herself behind Hali underneath the furs of unknown heritage.

A gratitude inspired smile made a conquest of Bonnie's lips. "No need for apologies, Torvi. Fact is, I'm grateful that you've allowed me somewhere safe to lay my head. Especially with everything being so new and unfamiliar."

Truth be sold rather than told, Bonnie didn't understand one damn thing about her predicament. One moment she lay bleeding out in her fiancé's arms in 21st century New Orleans, and the next she lay sprawled on Bjorn's ship during the freaking Viking Era. After some thought she'd begun to believe herself to be on the other side she'd created for Enzo, but there was a few sizable holes in that working theory. One, Enzo didn't hail from the ninth century so why would she tailor the world he'd spend his afterlife in after it? Two, she'd had the displeasure of being dead stranded on the other side a time or two and neither time did the imitation of life after death explode with a passion that could only be rivaled by reality.

No, Bjorn, Ivar, and Kattegat was real. It was all real! But on everything and everyone she loved she couldn't understand why. What did her giving up her mortality to become the immortal witch and finally embrace the prophecy have to do with this particular place in time?

"Bonsie?" The dulcet cadence of Guthrum's voice snatched her away from her thoughts. "Can you tell us a saga about your land?"

He and Hali stared up at her. The gleam of excitement tinkled bright in both of their eyes. She faked a sigh and played at reluctance with a roll of the eyes, all the while a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth for freedom. "Are you sure? Because you and Hali look really tired," she began tickling Hali who squealed and squirmed to get away, "And I don't wanna start one of my dull stories only to bore you both to sleep."

"Please!" They both squeaked in unison. "You have our vow we won't slumber before the end of your tale. Right Hali?" The blonde cherub face child with eyes just like his father nodded.

"Alright, but the vow I want from you is, that if slumber comes for you or Hali while I'm telling you the story you won't fight it," she said, her gaze moving from one boy to the other. "That's the only way I'm going to speak of this saga. I won't waste words on tired ears."

The boys stared at each other for a moment, before Guthrum looked back at her, "If our slumber takes us before the conclusion, will you continue when we rise?"

"Maybe not when we rise. You know, because we'll have to break our fast and I'm sure there'll be chores needing to be done-"

"There will definitely be chores needing to be done," Torvi confirmed as she watched from the bed.

Bonnie shrugged, tapping her chin while staring up at the ceiling of the keep. Her eyes flared as if the proverbial light bulb had erupted into a thousand ideas, "I know! If you fall asleep before the saga is finished, then I'll continue it tomorrow before we go to bed."

Guthrum looked to Hali, who nodded his head, "You have our vow, Bonsie."

"Okay," she held up her pinky. They stared at her finger for a moment then gawked at her as if she'd open a third eye on her forehead, "Well if you're giving me your vow boys, I'ma need a pinky swear to consummate your sworn oath."

"How do you perform such a ritual?" Guthrum asked, cuddling in closer.

"Hold up your little finger just like this." She wiggled her pinky. Once Guthrum and Hali raised their fingers, she entwined both of her pinkies with theirs, tugged and pulled away. "And just like that we have consummated our oath with a pinky swear."

"So, what of the saga?" Guthrum questioned.

"It's a story that takes place in a land where my ancestors once thrived. A continent called Africa," she began, "There a wise lion king was blessed with a cub who too would one day be king of everything the light touched in that land."

For the next thirty minutes or so Bonnie retold the story of the Lion King. By the time she reached the part about Scar throwing Mufasa off the cliff into the surge of stampeding antelope she noticed the boys had fallen asleep. Lowering her voice, she allowed her words to trail off, to avoid awakening the kids.

"Ack! Why'd you stop?!" Bjorn snapped. "Did Mufasa find a way to save himself so that he could exact revenge over his treacherous brother?"

"And what of poor Simba?" Torvi grilled, "What will become of him now?"

Bonnie's brows collided. She hadn't realized that they had even gave her a benefit of an ear let alone hung on to every word of the story. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you guys were paying attention."

"Why wouldn't we attend you, Bonnie?" Bjorn shot her one more unit before settling back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. "Are we not sharing the same space?"

"Bjorn," Torvi lightly scolded, cuddling down next to him.

"It's okay, Torvi," she said, rolling away to face the wall, "Bjorn's right. I'm wrong for not considering you both may wanna hear the ending of the story, but even if I wanted to finish it my sacred oath with the boys wouldn't allow me to continue until next eve. So, have a good night's rest and I'll see you both in the morning."

Bonnie allowed her eyes to close and not much later she dosed until squeaks, moans, and grunts ripped her from the verge of a deep sleep. Confused about why the hell she was on the floor instead of in Klaus' Californian King, her eyes darted around and then finally collided with a folded up Torvi getting piled drove by Bjorn.

When Torvi noticed her watching, she blushed and attempted to stifle another moan, "Apologies, Bonnie. We didn't mean to wake you with our coupling."

"It's fine," she said, not knowing what the hell else to say. It's not like she could go in about them banging one out in their own keep. Bjorn's lava hot blues bore into her, while he began to grind slow circles into Torvi. Bonnie attempted to clear her throat, but only managed a super dehydrated cough, "P-please c-continue—I-I mean if that's what you both wanna do. Not that I'm gonna keep watching or anything."

"Would you like to join us?" Torvi offered between gasps and moans. "Bjorn's vigor is insatiable. He would have no issues pleasuring you as well."

"T-That's not necessary!" Bonnie flopped back over on her side to face away from them, "You two enjoy, I'm good." She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to ignore the snickers coming from the bed as she willed herself to go back to sleep.

****

After daggmal what Bjorn called breakfast, Sigurd offered to be her guide while she explored the forest. They spent almost half the day trekking through the woods gathering recipes she would need for hygienic purposes and basic spells. For the first half of their outing, Sigurd merely helped and watched her without saying anything. When she'd had enough of him side-eying the hell out of her she spun on him without warning and he almost ran her down.

"What's wrong with you? Why do you keep watching me like I'm gonna turn you into horse shit or something?" She snapped.

His eyes flared, and he took a step back. "Can you?"

"Sigurd!" Bonnie stared at him for a moment like he'd left his mind back at Kattegat, before whirling around to continue her descend down to the cove. "Why did you come if you're so scared of me?" She tossed over her shoulder.

"Because I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and I was hoping to plow you," he replied, following behind her.

"Men," she mumbled to herself. Then she raised her voice loud enough for him to hear. "So, I guess Ivar's telling anyone who will listen I'm a witch, huh?"

"Ivar?" He questioned as if he didn't know how one thing had to do with the other. "No, what's he to do with anything? It's Margrethe."

Bonnie stopped once more to turn and look up at him. "Margrethe? You mean the poor servant girl you all pass around like a waste bucket?"

"We don't pass her around and she says when you appeared out of air the gods let their displeasure be known by sending a storm to upset the sea," he walked closer, plucked the basket from her hands, intertwined their arms and guided her towards the cove. "She also said that the storm only went away when she mentioned throwing you over."

"You do understand Margrethe is madder than a bag of cats tossed in a barrel of water, right? Anything that comes out of her mouth is nothing more than rantings of the certifiable," she said, filing Margrethe away for a later day's problem.

Sigurd laughed. "Your turn of phrases are cutting. I've noticed that you wield your words the way Hvitserk swings an ax."

"Runs in the family," she said, distracted by the splashing she heard coming from the cove. "Shh," she stopped, halting Sigurd along with her, "someone's down there."

Stunned disbelief flared his eyes and dropped his jaw, "Really? Well, we should go-,"

"Yeah," her head bobbed in utter agreement, more than ready to turn around, "we should."

"And cut down the trespassers!" He finished.

"Wait, what?"

Without even a notion of a warning, he scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and ran down the rest of the way to the cove. Once they cleared the woods and stepped into the enclosure of the inlet, he strode into the water with her. She caught an upside-down glimpse of Ivar sitting on the bank.

While Ubbe and Hvitserk chased each other around in the water with long skinny sticks.

"Brother, what took you so long?" Hvitserk snickered as he bent sideways to stare her in the face.

Sigurd smacked her on the bottom. "This one wanted to pick every smelly flower in the forest."

"Sigurd, take me back on dry land," she said, pounding him in the middle of his back with her fists, "So help me, if you fuck around and drop me in this water and my hair gets wet, it's gonna be hell to tell the captain. And just in case you haven't figured it out I'm the motherfucking captain!"

"What's she going on about?" Ivar called from the bank.

Sigurd laughed, "She wants to swim."

Then he tossed her into the biting chill of the water. She emerged sputtering water and spitting mad. Their laughter only served to piss her off more. Hatemakers shot from her eyes like hollow points leaving the barrel of a glock. When she finally had Sigurd locked and loaded in her sights, she treaded water like she had an engine shoved up her crack and Bobby Boucher'ed his ass so hard he hurtled through the air. He smacked the water harder than Angela did Marcus, and he went under. Now it was her turn to laugh and do the fool she did. Ubbe and Hvitserk gawked at her as if she'd sprouted wings and a tail.

Sigurd clawed his way back to the surface gasping and coughing. "Who in the name of Odin taught you how to swim, Thor?"

The sound of laughter and clapping floated from the bank. Bonnie turned to see Ivar's incandescent methane orbs flashing hella bright. Yet somehow the brilliance of his smile rivaled even the bewitching dazzle of his eyes. He'd baited and hooked her without even casting the lure. Now the unexplainable pull between them would reel her in. Pushing the mass of dripping curls from her face, she began to walk toward the shore.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hvitserk whispered next to her ear, before scooping her off her feet, "You've a lesson to learn."

"Oh, Hvitserk, you just better bring it!" She yelled as she bucked and squirmed in his grasp, "That goes for your sisters too."

With that said he dunked her in the water, when she reemerged Ubbe had a hold of her, "Many apologies, my lady. You were saying?" He questioned, regarding her with eyes the same shade as a cloudless sky.

She gave him a closed lip smile, and then slapped her cheeks, allowing all of the water in her mouth to spray him in the face. When he released her, she dove under the surface, grabbed him by the ankles and snatched him off his feet, literally. Then she went after Hvitserk next. Anticipating an attack, he and Sigurd took on a defense stance. So, they planned to make this a joint effort. She gave herself a mental nod, noted. Tired of playing around, she hiked her skirts up just beneath the curve of her ass and knotted it high on her hip. Sigurd and Hvitserk exchanged a smirk. Not wasting a second she struck. First, she climbed, and then wrapped herself around Sigurd. In a maneuver reminiscent of the Black Widow, she used his body weight and gravity against him. Once more he soared through the air.

She turned to Hvitserk and he gave her the smile which let her know he thirst for blood and the rush. Yep, she'd saved the most savage for last. Leaping on him, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He automatically grabbed a fist full of ass. Sexual lust overpowered his blood lust. Big mistake. She snapped backwards in a back bend, the memento snatched him off his feet and he went free falling face first into some rather high-quality H2O.

While the brothers attempted to figure out which step led to their downfall, Bonnie left the water to find Bjorn standing on the bank. His look of indifference remained true to the inner workings of his mind.

"You move well," he said as he reached down to place one hand on a bare hip and the other on the knot that secured her skirt. In a swift tug he released the drenched material. "I've never seen anyone fight that way or toss about men twice their size."

A memory of Bjorn giving Torvi the business end of some serious wood flashed at the forefront of Bonnie's mind. Unable to maintain eye contact, she dropped her gaze to the ground, "It's nothing. We were just messing around; I'd hoped to learn how to manage one of their sticks." Ivar snickered and that's when she realized how it sounded. "You know...for fishing." She added to be Visine clear.

"If you're to learn to manage anyone's stick, it'll be mine," Bjorn stepped closer and crowded her personal space.

The heat which came off of him reminded her of the predicament she now found herself. She was drenched and it had to be every bit of fifty-eight degrees out and dropping. The boys came trudging out the water behind her.

Ubbe walked up on her until the hard press of his chest collided with her back. One of his hands moved to grip her neck, while the other rose to lay possessively across her belly. He lowered his mouth next to her ear, "The gods were with you this day, Valkyrie. Yet, we'll see what the morrow brings." He then released her and moved around her to sit next to Ivar.

"You think yourself clever with that trick in the water, do you?" Sigurd asked, while tugging one of her curls as he passed. "Well, I know a few tricks too and mine are sure to put you on your back as well." With his gaze still locked on her, he dropped down on the other side of Ubbe.

Hvitserk spun her around to face him. "One detail," he snatched her skirts up around her hips and lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist. A sliver of space remaining between them provoked him to tug her closer until her naked sex pressed firmly against his bare lower abdomen muscles. On contact, the sinewy tissue flexed against her clit and try as she might, she couldn't stop the groan that burst from her lips. His eyes rolled closed, and gasps of air rushed from his mouth as he rested his forehead on hers. "I had to be certain." After a moment he allowed her body to slip from his.

"Of what?" She questioned, slightly swaying as she shifted her skirts back in place.

"I was home," he said, before stealing a kiss and darting away.

Something a breath away from recognition flared within her. She pressed to fingers to her lips to help preserve the feel and weight of Hvitserk's mouth on hers. Where the hell did she know his kiss?

Bjorn shot his younger siblings hell bred units. "Come, Bonnie. It's almost time for second meal and Queen Aslaug would like for us to attend her in the great hall...again." She didn't miss the annoyance which saturated his again.

"Alright, let me just grab my basket," she strode to pick up the wicker carrier and the world turned upside down.