Bonnie stood next to Floki on the shore in front of his keep. They stared out at Helga and Bjorn as they tinkered with the model long boats. Neither were really paying attention to the scene before them. Each too concentrated on the burden of what was to come. The supernatural activity at work was palpable. It swirled about, begging to be acknowledge, pleading to be commanded. Yet, she did neither. Once that milk left the carton and hit the floor going back would be nothing more than a fairytale. Anonymity would no longer be her card in the sleeve. Every supernatural in existence would come to know her including the hollow. That's if Floki and Ayanna were to be believed, and she trusted there shared knowledge above most.

"I don't know if I'm ready," Bonnie said, not bothering to tear her gaze from Bjorn. "Yet, I can literally feel Ragnar's approach gaining on us as we speak. His untapped magic rivals that of Ivar's and his dormant sorcery is unlike any other I've ever sensed." She shook her head. "But what if it's not enough? Everything we've planned...what if it's not enough?"

Floki's chest rose and fell under the duress of a sigh. "Then we'll do whatever is needed to ensure everything falls into place per our plotting and preparations."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gathered her close to his side. "So, reign in your uncertainties. Our winter months were well spent." For a moment he allowed silence to reign uninterrupted, and then, "will you speak to Bjorn of what will become of Ragnar?"

"You don't even want to flip to the last page," she cut an eye at him, "what makes you think he'll be good with taking a peek into the great big after?"

"He's still young. Most of the young ones have no vision until it's given to them," Floki said, waving a hand in Bjorn's direction. "So, give him a vision he can care for, fight for. You never know, he may choose you."

She shook her head. A sad smile flickering over her lips. "Bjorn would never choose me over Valhalla. Hell, he'll never choose me over his next conquest. I'm shiny and new now. When the newness of me has worn off he'll be on to something else."

"Don't underestimate Bjorn Ironside. There's more to him than the eye or mind can ever perceive or conceive," Floki said, releasing a high-pitch giggle. "He may surprise you."

"Have you tried talking to the queen again about leaving Kattegat?" Bonnie questioned, purposefully changing the subject.

Floki shook his head. "It would be for naught and maybe she's right."

"Oh, my goddess, she's not right!" Bonnie snapped, turning full on to hurl visual daggers at the side of his face. "I don't need her to die to help build Ivar. The greatness within him is gonna will out no matter the sacrifice. You know what, don't worry about it. I'll talk to her and hopefully she'll be inclined to get her damn life!"

"Bonnie," Bjorn turned back to bless her with a smile that played tricks on her heart, "come see the ship we'll be sailing upon."

"You say he'll never choose you, but the way he gazes at you," Floki tsked and shook his head as he folded his arms across his chest. "I remember his father used to look upon Lagertha with the same keenness."

Bonnie scoffed, tossing over her shoulder before going to join Bjorn. "Remind me again, exactly how epic was that fail?"

****

"Goddess, you'll be away until the finish of summer," Blida fussed as she stuffed some more of her clothes in a carry-all bag. "You'll need more things than this tiny satchel will allow."

"She'll need use of a trunk," Hilda added, placing all of Bonnie's toiletries in one pile.

Blida's eyes rolled as her head bobbed. "Yes, Hilda, I was coming to that."

"No," Bonnie insisted, cleaning the last bit of honey from Wilbur's face. "All I'll need is whatever you manage to pack away in those bags. Oh, and my basket, don't forget my basket. Everything else I'll just have to do without."

Blida smothered a harassed sigh, while she continued to force clothes into the bag. A tap sounded on her door before the wooden barrier burst open. Sigurd marched in looking filthier than a mud wrestler and more exhausted than a Miami ditch digger. Without sparing Blida or Hilda a glance he barked, "Leave!"

They looked to Bonnie and she nodded her confirmation. Once the shieldmaidens hurried out, she relocated enough water from the freshwater inlet to fill her deep clawfoot tub. Then she heated the liquid with her mystical energy.

"Undress, Sigurd," she called out to him. Moments later he joined her in the far corner of the keep she'd sectioned off with solid wood room dividers. "I'll bathe you."

He placed a hand on her hip as he stood behind her. "Will you wash with me?"

"No, I've already bathed." She turned to stare up at him. Stress and tension locked the muscles in his face. It didn't take a think tank of the world's greatest minds to know his father's impending reappearance shouldered the blame for his current unrest. "Besides, getting in there with you in the state you're in will only put me in need of another bath."

"Well, I'm in need of you," he said, resting his forehead on hers.

She lifted her hands to tangle her fingers in his hair. "Then you shall have me, my Enforcer/Confessor."

A sigh disguised as an exhale left her lips. Normally, she didn't like for them to give to each other in places which put them at risk for discovery. Many wouldn't understand the sort of relationship they shared. The unique dynamic between them. Yet, there were times such as these when it really couldn't be helped. She allowed her mystical energy to radiate from her pores and circulate throughout her keep, supernaturally securing the structure from prying eyes or curious ears. Her magical efforts would do nothing to deter Ivar or even Floki, seeing as they were both impervious to her barrier spells. Though, if push came to Mack truck smack down, then she'd fire that bridge up when she arrived there.

After Bonnie undressed Sigurd, he climbed into the bath. Once in, his muscles relaxed. His body sagged and he reclined back against the tub. She grabbed a terry cloth rag, dipped the scrap of material into the water and wrung it dry over his body. This process was repeated several times until his head and upper torso was drenched.

"Ubbe said you've decided to enter marriage with him after all," he stated, rather than questioned. He didn't bother to look at her. In fact, he didn't even bother to open his eyes.

"Yes, I told Ubbe that if he could forgive his father once he arrives, then I'd forgive and marry him. That's only if he manages not to betray me again," she said, while wiping his face. "And since his foolish lust will lead to your mother's murder, there's no way in Helheim I'll ever meet Ubbe at anyone's altar."

He opened his eyes to regard her. "Yet, it is your desire he values your impending marriage enough to overcome his foolish lust, which in turn you hope will save my mother's life." He leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. "It is my belief, you're the foolish one, beautiful Valkyrie."

"How so?" Her rag paused mid-descent down his abdomen.

"If Lagertha means to see my mother dead and retake Kattegat, then Ubbe's life is but a small sacrifice in the preservation and progression of her goals," Sigurd said, covering her stalled hand with his and restarting its descent. "However, worry not. I'll assure the plan, where Lagertha is concerned, returns to plot."

She released the rag in favor of wrapping her hands around the nine inches of erect meat bobbing and swaying in search of her touch. She allowed her sorcery to pool in her palms and he released a low growl that ripped its way free from the base of his throat. "Never you mind that carry out your part as discussed. I'll handle the Lagertha situation. Hopefully, when we return from the Mediterranean things will look at least a bit like canon."

"There's something else we need to discuss," Sigurd managed to say between his grunts and groans.

"Yeah?" She slightly tightened her grip around his manhood and rotated her wrist as she gave it another pump. Helplessness and bliss rippled across his face. She bit the corner of her bottom lip to suppress a moan. "What would that be, Snake in the Eye?"

His breathing increased as he slammed his hips upwards to escalate the power behind his strokes. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead, while his rock solid abdomen muscles flexed from the exertion of his gyrating lower half. Unable to ignore the pounding of her magic any longer, she leaned forward and took possession of his lips. Mystical energy seeped from her mouth into his. Gripping the back of her head, he dragged her closer to ensure he took in all she gave him. That not one wisp of sorcery escaped. He groaned into the kiss as his dick twitched and jerked in her hands until copious amounts of his seed shot to the surface of the water.

Sigurd broke the kiss to slump back in the tub, his chest rising and falling as if he'd swam to England and back. He regarded her with a solid gold gaze. "Ubbe thinks I should remain here to help defend Kattegat, while Hvitserk sails to the Mediterranean with you and Bjorn in my place."

"No," she said, rising from her crouch next to the bathtub. Grabbing a towel, she dried her hands, and stepped around the divider back into the designated area for her bedroom.

Moments later Sigurd followed her out in all of his hard, hanging, bare, ass glory. "Why not? I doubt you'll be away longer than two full moons."

"Because Hvitserk's not his own man, which makes him susceptible of being used against me," she said, while passing him male pajama bottoms that he in turn tossed over his shoulder without even a glance.

He pulled the covers back on her bed and climbed in. "Of course, Hvitserk is a man! He's a man by his own means. Outside of Bjorn, he's the best fighter among us. He's also the best hunter, and the best-,"

"Okay, I get it," Bonnie held up a hand to silence the big brother worship gushing out of Sigurd. "Hvitserk is the favored brother who slays sea serpents, wrestles bears, and can single handedly take on an army of berserkers. He can do no wrong...to you. Me, not so much. I'm sorry, Love. I don't trust him...not anymore."

Sigurd exhaled, and then gestured for her to come to him. She sat on the edge of the mattress on his side. "What did he do?" He questioned.

"He came over here with the sole intention of seducing me for Ubbe." Her fists clenched. Just thinking about it pissed her dry all over again.

Sigurd's face scrunched. "How does seducing you benefit...," Realization snatched his gilded eyes wide, "Ah, he wanted you to understand how effortless it is to be overcome by lust." A grin caught hold of his mouth and wouldn't let go. "Well, did it work?"

"The point is," she narrowed her gaze at him to let him know she was nuclear holocaust serious. "If he allowed himself to be use against me once, then it'll definitely happen again."

"Bonnie, Hvitserk allowed himself to be used against you in such a way because that's the closest he's been to you in a long while." He tugged her on top of him. "Out of us all, you attend him least."

"That's not true," she said, knowing it was the gospel.

He gave her a, this is me you're talking to, look. "Hvitserk is not accustomed to being disregarded by women. As I said before, he's the very best of us." Her eyes rolled their disagreement. "Valkyrie, honor me with this one request and if he violates your trust as you believe he will, then I'll never doubt your judgement on anyone else again. Even if the someone else is my kin."

"Sigurd, you know all you have to do is ask," she said, casting her gaze away not happy at all in being strong armed into taking Hvitserk with them. "There's not anything I won't do for you."

He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Or I you."

****

Margrethe stared at herself in the queen's mirror. The divine reflection of herself swathed in a blue glowing light smiled back at her. Since her thirteenth summer everyone had always boasted of her specialness. Her mother had spoken of it on more than a few occasions. The men of her village offered lofty bride prices to her father for her hand in matrimony. They did so even when they knew she had no dowery or land to speak of. For so long she didn't understand the allure about herself, not until she began to hear the voices. The first time she looked in the mirror and saw something more than herself, that's when she knew everyone was right about her.

Everyone believed the dark woman to be a goddess. Yet, she was the real goddess. Well, a real goddess dwelled inside of her. The divine deity spoke to her, ordered her steps, and guided her life towards greatness. The divine goddess even swore, she would one day be queen of Kattegat.

"Margrethe, are you listening?" The goddess questioned from the mirror.

She blinked her eyes really fast to center her thoughts. That's what her mother always advised her to do when her mind became fractured. "Yes, goddess. You wanted to know if I'm still putting the potion we blended into the queen's mead."

"Well?" her reflection frowned.

She clasped her hands to her chest, hoping the goddess wasn't displeased with her. "Of course, Goddess. I've done so every rising since we prepared the concoction."

"What of Ubbe? Have you been placing your woman's blood and mandrake in his ale every other second meal?" Her reflection's eyes narrowed as it scoured her face.

Her head bobbed. "Yes as instructed-,"

"Because the love potion won't work if it's not ingested consistently," The reflection said.

"I understand, Goddess, but-,"

"But what?" The blue around the reflection flared.

She swallowed, uncertain on whether or not she should say. "I've done everything you told me, but Ubbe is still resistant to me. Even now, he barely even glances at me anymore. The witch's influence over him is too power-,"

"Am I not all powerful?!" A crack etched itself down the middle of the mirror. "Continue doing as I instruct and Ubbe will marry you. Have you been able to breach the witch's quarters yet?"

She shook her head. "I'm not even able to approach her door without losing my breath."

"Ach, Margrethe! You disappoint me greatly," The reflection seethed in a low voice. "Continue to do so and you will know my wrath instead of my favor."

"Yes, Goddess."

"Now what of the cripple? Is he still making a nuisance of himself, thwarting your endeavors at every turn?" The reflection stared down at her nails and grimaced. "My word, Margrethe have we not discussed your hygiene. Did we not agree you would wash at the very least once every seven risings?"

"Yes, but the water demons-,"

The reflection halted her legitimate excuse with a raised palm. "Margrethe, when next we meet you'd better be washed and your clothing unsoiled or so help me when I'm finished with you, you'll wish for the cold hateful arms of a water demon," With that the reflection faded back into her regular nondivine self.