The next day Bonnie and Bjorn arrived back at Kattegat around mid-day. Now that she'd learned more about her situation she wanted to chance another visit to Ayanna's. To see if she could add or broaden what she'd already learned from Floki. Her trek back through the woods for knowledge would have to wait though. If she attempted another excursion from Kattegat so soon after her last, Bjorn would more than likely force her to move back in with he and Torvi.

Once Bjorn stabled his horse, he insisted on walking her home. People continued to be weird, bowing to her and parting to clear a path for them. A majority of them appeared happy to have her back, while the others stared on in awe without showing one determinant emotion one way or the other.

Bjorn who remained at her side the entire time nodded to a few but ignored most. His hand remained at the small of her back, maneuvering and guiding her through the crowd to her home.

When they finally made it to her house, her eyes almost rolled from her sockets into the dirt. The amount of offerings had tripled and there were fucking farm animals lumbering about everywhere, while Blida and Hilda chased after them. Bonnie exhaled her aggravation.

"I'll see to having you an altar built in the fields," Bjorn assured as he pulled her closer into his side.

"Bjorn, I don't want an altar built! I'm not a god," Bonnie snapped, whirling on him. "These people are offering me things they can't afford to give in hopes it will improve their position for the coming winter. They can't continue to do this."

"Our last harvest before Yule will be the rising after the next full moon," Bjorn said, pushing a few wild curls behind her ear. "True, we weren't fortunate with the last two yields, but this time I believe Thor will provide."

The corners of her mouth traveled upwards for his benefit, but the last thing the situation called for was an empty smile. This beyond fucked situation called for action. She didn't plan on sitting around and waiting for Thor to come up with one. She hated to dispute anyone's religion, but they'd all starve if that was the case. And didn't she hear somewhere gods help those who help themselves?

"Blida, gather all of the spices and herbs together," Bonnie said, stepping into the eye of the storm. "Hilda, you gather all of the fruit, eggs, and oats that are still salvageable." She looked over her shoulder at Bjorn. "My protector, can you gather the animals and arrange for them to have boarding until time of slaughter?"

His head dipped in a nod, before moving to sort the larger animals. She glared down at a shit ton of manure piled shin high on her welcome mat. She exhaled a growl conceived from the incestuous duo aggravation and frustration. This was going to be one of those days that didn't know how to end. She just knew it!

****

After Bonnie managed to bag, can, and board all of the offerings, she slipped away and cut a path for the cove. When she'd showered, washed, conditioned, and twisted her hair into a protective style, she lay back on a fur spread and stared up at the sky. Zillions of stars sparkled above her, only out done by a melded sheath of pink, green, yellow, blue, and violet. The Northern Lights.

It was nearly one of the most breath snatching thing she'd ever seen. Looking up at aquatic like movements made her feel as if she lay at the bottom of the sea.

"You missed second meal," Sigurd said as he lay beside her on the fur. "Mother was so alarmed by your repeated absence she nigh drunk herself under the great table, but instead managed to drink herself under Egil."

"Sigurd!" She snorted despite herself, but still smacked him in the chest for added measure.

"Ach!" He laughed stroking his chest, "When did the truth call for retribution?"

"You shouldn't talk about your mother like that," she settled back down next to him, "Even if you think it's true. She's the only one you're gonna get you know."

"Well, thank Odin for always showing his favor," Sigurd said, tucking a hand behind his head. "Why'd you visit Floki without speaking to anyone of your whereabouts? We would've taken apart the forest and Kattegat's surrounding farmlands had no one been forthcoming of your locus. Here's a thought," his face hovered over her, "you should be more aware when next you want to go cavorting through the forest or visiting keeps nigh half a day's time away. Furthermore-,"

She reached up and pulled his face down on hers. Soon as their lips connected his tongue slipped into her mouth. What she'd done as a silencing tactic took a turn she'd never expected with him of all brothers. Sigurd never made it out of season 4. The writers never gave the fans a chance to form an attachment to the character. Yet here he was almost on top of her, kissing her like they'd done it a million times before.

When he pulled away to allow a little oxygen to pass between them, a grin settled on his swollen, crimson-stained lips. "I pondered when that would happen. You've petted all of my brothers. I'd begun to fear you didn't favor me."

"I like you just fine, young Sigurd," she gave him another peck on the lips before sitting up. "And I'd like you even more if you take me to the next crops to be harvested."

****

An hour and a half later found Bonnie on her knees with her hands plunged wrist deep in the soil of Kattegat's next harvest. Sigurd kneeled next to her. Confusion etched in every furrow, scrunch, and line on his face. She knew he thought her behavior strange, but she appreciated the hell out of him for keeping it to himself for the time being. To heal soil and the crops she needed to understand the problem. In order to comprehend the lands shortcomings, she needed to concentrate. After what felt like no more than a few minutes, the earth started to whisper it's secrets. It uttered each and every ailment it suffered. So, for the next few hours Bonnie listened and restored.

By the time she completed her task, ripe crops exploded from the soil ready for harvest.

Bonnie stood and dusted off her hands, a little surprised by her lack of fatigue. Upon second thought, she felt fucking fantastic. Normally, a spell of this size would have her in bed for a week and there she was fine without even a bloody nose for her troubles. Hmm...A smile crept across her mouth. Her gaze dropped to Sigurd who stared at her as she'd just cracked open the gates of Valhalla and given him free reign of Asgard.

"F-Freyja," Sigurd sputtered.

Bonnie reached down and helped him to his feet. She cupped his face in his hands as her gaze arrested his sapphire stare, "You know I'm not a goddess, Sigurd. I'm Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."

He looked to the explosion of yield overrunning the field, while gesturing a hand in its general direction. "But-,"

"Hey," she placed a finger over his lips, "Please let's just keep this between us, Sigurd. I don't wanna be burned as a witch...please."

His shoulders dropped as his head bobbed up and down. "I won't speak of this night to anyone. You have my word. Though, I have questions. A legion of questions."

"Thank you, Sigurd," she wrapped him in a snug hug.

****

When she arrived back to her keep the piglet from the day before waddled from the shadows next to her door and grunted its way over to her.

She laughed as she squatted to pick it up. "Now how in Charlotte's Web did they miss you, Wilbur?" The tiny fuzzy oinker grunted a reply that sounded a bit cheeky. She clucked her tongue at its audacity, while letting herself in. "Keep it up and you'll be sizzling faster than you can oink bacon."

"With whom do you speak?" A voice floated from her bed.

She whirled around and discovered Ivar reclined on her mattress.

She grinned and held up the piglet. "It seems my little friend here pulled off a Shaw Shank Redemption today when Bjorn rounded up all the farm animals."

His brows crashed together. "A Shaw what?"

"Never mind," she cuddled the piglet in the crook of her arm, "How'd you get in here?" With the wards she'd placed on the keep a heat seeking missile wouldn't have been able to make it through the door.

"I have my ways," He said, settling back unto her pillow.

Bonnie's lip quirked, but she held her tongue. Instead, she lifted the piglet, so they were eye to eye. "I'm placing hay in one corner for your waste and furs in the other for you to sleep. Be good and you might make it pass first meal without being first meal." She then scratched him behind the ears before placing him on the pile of furs to ready there corners.

"Why do you speak to the little beast as if he understands?" Ivar questioned while watching her place a folded fur spread in the corner.

She placed strips of fabric in the other corner, and then grabbed some fresh hay from by the hearth. "Because he does understand me. Pigs are smarter than you give them credit for, especially that one."

She finished the task for Wilbur and then began to undress. In nothing but her panties, she walked over to the large wooden pail filled with water on the stone table. After squirting a displaced bottle of antibacterial hand soap in her palms, she washed her hands. She cleaned under each nail and made sure to pay close attention to her cuticles. Once finished, she peered over her shoulder to see Ivar watching her like a misplaced puppy who had no sense of smell or direction to find his way home.

"Take off your clothes, Ivar," she said, approaching the bed in slow but deliberate steps.

He studied her with wide eyes as he pulled himself up in a sitting position. "Why?"

"So, I may wash you," she answered placing the pail next to the bed. "You smell-,"

"I have the scent of a man," Ivar argued, swinging his legs around so he sat on the bedside staring up at her.

"You have the scent of a farm animal and farm animals aren't allowed in my keep," she said, while helping him to remove his shirt.

He nodded his head to the piglet sleeping on the pile of furs in the corner, "What of him then?"

"Never mind Wilbur," she snapped, dropping to her knees to untie his legs, "you just worry about you. Lift your hips."

He shifted from side to side a bit, permitting her to drag his pants down his thighs. When she reached his legs, she took extra care not to jostle his legs. Once she had him relieved of his clothing, her gaze drifted over him. His upper body was toned from years of overcompensation. Even his thighs were oddly muscular. Yet, the bones in his legs lacked sinewy brawn. Years of breakage and improper healing had given them a gnarled and deformed appearance. Her stare lifted to capture his only to find he'd cast his fiery blues away.

"Now, you see," the raspy whisper left his lips broken under the weight of so many unresolved emotions, "I'm only but half a man, destined to spend the rest of my risings crawling around in the filth of Kattegat. I'll never do the things or become the men Ubbe, Hvitserk, or even Sigurd will do or become. So, why offer something as treasured as your heart to one such as me, hmm?" His flaming methane stare rediscovered hers. An ocean of pain brimmed his lower lids. "I'm after all nothing more than a cripple."

The ache in his voice manifested in her chest. If only she could take the pain away. Not the physical pain. No that was easy. She wanted to relieve him of the hurt gnawing away at his heart and poisoning his soul until nothing remained but, Ruthless Ivar the Boneless. Sadness dropped her shoulders as she straddled his lap. His manhood stiffened and lengthened...and lengthened beneath her. Damn!

She mental bitch slapped herself to recenter her focus as she cradled his face in her palms. "No, you'll not do the things Ubbe, Hvitserk, or Sigurd will do." His eyes slipped closed as a tear escaped the prison of his lids and trickled down his cheek. "You'll do more and be a force far greater than nature while doing so. Nothing will stop fate or destiny from making a threesome out of you. Not your legs or this damn—defeatist woe is me—attitude you've spontaneously developed. An attitude that looks far better on my arrogant piglet than you, might I add." Wilbur grunted his offense from the corner.

Ivar scoffed, and covertly swiped at the lone tear dampening his cheek. He then slid his arms around her waist. "It is cruel of you to continue knocking a cripple off his feet at every turn, My Love."

"Not if hitting the ground is the only way to knock sense back into him," she shrugged, before climbing from his lap to begin washing him.

After soaping, rinsing, and drying Ivar, Bonnie helped him to lie back on the mattress. Utilizing deliberate strokes, she massaged warm scented oil into his skin. Working her way from his neck until she reached his legs. Her magic pooled in her palms. The sorcery seeped from her fingertips. Mystical energy penetrated the appendages right to the marrow of the bone. A moan burst from his mouth. His clawed fingers curled and twisted in the bed furs. Semen dripped from the head of his penis, puddling at the upper part of his abdomen.

"M-My Love," he gasped as a load shot from his manhood, hitting the ceiling of the keep. "W-what did you d-do?" he forced out between pants.

She dipped the rag back in the pail of water, and then began cleaning his chest. "You were in pain." After dropping the rag back into the water, she joined him in the bed and cuddled into his side. "And now you're not."

"I-I've never...,"

"Yeah, but you will again, and next time so will I." She pressed a kiss to his left pec. "Ivar?"

"Yes?" His palm slid over her bare back, inching lower and lower each time it made the trek downward.

She turned to balance her chin on his chest. "You know in this life you'll never be normal, right?"

"Of this, I am well aware," his stare travelled over her face, maybe hoping to understand her abrupt swerve in topics, "yes."

"Yet extraordinary is what you are, and in time the things you'll do will come to reflect that," she stared at him. What was it about him that moved her so? "I've sworn my allegiance and loyalty to Bjorn. I vowed to never stand opposite of him on a battlefield and to always remain at his side." Before the objection could leave his mouth, it wrinkled his brow and crumpled his face. She raised a hand. "In return, he granted me my freedom and placed me under his protection. Which is ideal considering the alternative."

"I don't understand," he propped himself up on an elbow, "Why are you speaking of this to me?"

"There's gonna be a day when you show the world just who in the hell Ivar the Boneless is and I need you to understand the reason why I won't be standing with you," she dropped her gaze for a moment before retraining it back on him. "The operative words being...standing...with...you."

"What..." Comprehension slanted his head sideways. "Are you saying, My Love..."

"Ivar, there's something within me that is inexplicably yours." Her shoulders rose and dropped, "I'm not sure what it is, but it reaches for you whenever you're near and longs for you when you're not."

"My Love-,"

She placed a finger to his lips. "Though I have traded away almost everything that would be of use to you, there's still some things I have left to give." Her hand drifted to his leg. "You will never run. Yet, I can make it possible for you to stand and even manage to sort of walk...with assistance."

"That's...that's...how?" He pulled himself in an upright position. "There's no way. My bones are too weak to bear weight, and-,"