They made camp at the edge of Ecbert's kingdom. Bonnie placed her camp a bit further away from everyone else's. She'd erected barrier spells to help her maintain privacy. For months they'd lived on top of each other. Such up close and personal conditions forced her to know her traveling companions better than she cared. So when an opportunity for space presented itself she squandered no time erecting barrier spells to secure a commodity as rare as privacy. She shouldn't have wasted her time though. Floki tore into her tent before sunrise like he had an all access open invitation to her lodgings.

"Bonnie, you must help me," he pulled her upright from her bed furs, giving her a little shake to force her to alertness.

She swatted him away with one hand, while wiping at her face with the other. "What?!"

"It's Tanaruz," he said, falling back on his haunches. "She's missing and Helga is inconsolable. I've searched everywhere, she's nowhere to be found. I fear she may..."

She flapped a hand at him and shook her head, "No we're not gonna see wolves where there are only German Shepherds," she said, while rising from the furs. "We'll do a locator spell first, and then go from there." Floki nodded as he rested his face in his hand. Before she gathered everything she needed for the spell, she asked, "Have you checked by the river yet?"

The blood drained from his face. "Do you believe-,"

"No. In the series she hid down by the river because she wanted you to think she'd drowned," she said, slipping on her boots.

"Why would she want me to believe such a thing?" Outrage brought color back to his face and then some.

The stupidity of his question snatched her head sideways. "Why do you think? Helga kidnapped her. Then she brought her to a land filled with the same savages who pillaged her home and murdered her people. I'm surprised she hasn't slit your throats in your sleep."

"Helga still grieves Agraboda," Floki offered with a shrug as they exited her tent.

"Yeah, well no good is gonna come by forcing that girl to be a placeholder to the child you lost," she said, cutting her eye to him as they crossed the camp to the river. "Matter of fact, you should allow Helga to believe the girl's lost indefinitely. Because if you bring her back-,"

Floki raised a hand to halt her words. "No, whatever happens is the will of the Goddess. We'll not provoke fate by making unnecessary alterations to the timeline."

"But, Floki-," she attempted to warn him again.

"I believe that's her garment there on that branch." He pointed to a scrap of fabric conveniently stuck in a few twigs of an uprooted branch, and then hurried into the water.

Bonnie tooted her lip and turned towards the branches near the shore where she saw a little head peeking out. She walked over and knelt next to her. When the girl noticed her, she nearly kissed the sky. She huddled deeper into the nook. Bonnie spelled Tanaruz to understand old Norse. She could've kicked herself for not doing it sooner, but she had too many words on the page to realize she'd left some I's not dotted.

"So, what's the plan, Captain Marvel?" Bonnie shook her head when it looked as if Floki would join them. "After you convince my sage you've drowned, what's next? Where will you go?"

Her eyes flared. "You speak Hispania?"

"Probably, but not now," Bonnie said, perching on one of the branches. "Now, we're both speaking Norse."

Tanaruz stared at Bonnie as if she'd hit her head on one of the branches. "But I only speak Hispania. I know of no other language by such a name."

"The lady who takes care of you speaks Norse," she said, swinging her legs back and forth.

The little girl's eyes rolled as she unfolded herself from her hiding space. "Oh her. She's why I must flee. Her mind is filled with sickness. For I fear if I linger with her one rising longer, then she shall surely slay me for being me and not who she pretends me to be."

"Helga adores you for you. And I know it may feel as if she smothers you a bit-,"

"A bit?" Tanaruz's pitch rose as she called bullshit.

Bonnie waved her off. "I swear to you it's all love," she assured the girl attempting to deescalate a soon to be beyond fucked situation. "Tanaruz, you-,"

"Why does everyone keep referring to me by this name?!" The girl damn near growled.

Bonnie's head snapped back. "Well isn't that your name?"

"No, it's an endearment my mother and father ofttimes utilized for me. It's disrespectful for you barbarians to refer to me as the bringer of your hope. Especially, since you all are responsible for slaughtering all of mine. Well, perhaps not over much you. You attempted to save my mother," she said, staring down at the interlaced fingers in her lap.

Guilt bludgeoned the hell out of her. Had she encouraged them to go back when Harald suggested, then the child's parents would still be alive. "Look, Tana—I'm sorry. What's your name?"

"Reyher," she said, glancing up from her fingers to look at Bonnie.

"Reyher, my name is Bonnie. I know everything since our arrival on your shores must've been a living nightmare for you. For this you have my sincerest apologies," she said, locking gazes with Reyher. "There's nothing I can ever do to make what happened to your parents okay. Yet if you permit us to complete our task in this land without you attempting to run away or harm anyone, you have my sworn vow that I'll give you back to your shores when this is over."

"Your sworn vow?" The little girl questioned, while cutting slightly narrowed chocolate brown eyes at her.

"My sworn vow," Bonnie confirmed.

The girl studied her for a moment longer, and then nodded.

****

Bonnie crossed the camp distracted. Floki's situation with Reyher monopolized quite a bit of real estate in her head. She hoped she'd circumvented his wife's end at Reyher's hands. The girl appeared more relaxed now that she understood Helga. Not to mention she'd also given her word that she wouldn't harm anyone. The promise eased Bonnie's thoughts a bit and somewhat offered her a little comfort. Yet she still prayed to the Goddess of all that Reyher could be trusted. For if she discovered her judgement lacking then Helga's life would be the cost for such a blatant fuck-up.

From the corner of her eye the flashing glint of a blade snatched her attention from her thoughts. Gasps, shrieks and rumbles of anger disturbed the normal noise pollution of the camp. She whirled in the direction of the disruption, only to find Harald's shit starting ass in the midst of it all. He'd just axed a man in the head in sun bright day light in the middle of the camp for all to see. Anger ignited in her brain and raged within her heart. First Reyher's parents now this poor woman's husband? He was a fucking one man shit storm, and it was past time for him to be disinfected.

With her chin raised she stalked over to Harald more than ready to wipe him from history. When she reached snatching distance a hand grabbed her elbow. The appendage propelled her away from Harald and shoved her into the nearest tent.

She spun on her heels. Magic sparked from the tips of her fingers ready to blaze whichever of Harald's sycophants thought to interfere. Yet upon sighting said sycophant her sorcery fizzled to nothing. "Halfdan?"

"I know how Harald's actions may perceive him," Halfdan stared at her from a face overran with indifference. Even his voice met her ears in a concise flat tone. "Yet, you know not the whole of the situation between him and Ellisif. She's toyed with him since we were mere boys. The only error Harald committed is planting the ax in her husband's skull and not hers."

"But the error was still committed! He killed that man in a temperamental fit of jealousy. A fit which rivals the likes of Bjorn's youngest son Hali," she exploded. "Your brother is no better than a child, yet he has the nerve to want one and all to call him king."

"One thing is not related to the other," Halfdan said with a shrug.

Disbelief stretched her eyes wide. "Are you fucking serious? Those two things go together like chickens and frying pans." Confusion crumpled his brow. He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised a hand to halt his words. "Look, your brother's homicidal tantrum may very well jeopardize the stability of this army's unity! All great kings know country first, and self along with everything else, last."

"You mean the sort of king your Bjorn will one rising be," He sneered, as his mask of indifference fell in shambles at his feet.

She paused for a moment and pondered exactly what the hell he intended to imply. "Yes I guess Bjorn could be utilized as an example for the rule. In fact, it's he who's destined to be the true king of Norway. Your brother will only ever wear a hollow crown."

"What is it about the Lothbrok name that runs you wet?" Halfdan spat at her, his gaze narrowing until whiskey browns became no more than flashing slits. "What elevates them in your sights above us all, Supreme?"

"That's not-,"

"Before our battle with King Alle, you favored all of the sons of Ragnar while not even sparing your trusted a passing care," he stalked to her and towered over her. Anger sweltered in his gaze, but so did something else she couldn't put her finger on. "Had I fallen in battle would you have even mourned me? Do you hold any of the moments we shared in the Mediterranean close to your breasts?"

Her mouth snapped closed. Of course she cared equally for all of the children under her dominion. Yet a fundamental chunk of her had set the brothers apart from the rest. They all belonged to her and losing even one of them would test her eternal existence. Just the thought triggered her heart to try and beat out of her chest. She placed her palm to the cradle of her breast to ease the pounding there. Giving her head a mental shake, she abandoned her fears to the darkest corners of her mind.

Bonnie recentered her focus on Halfdan. Yes the moments she and he shared in the Mediterranean spun along the lines of memorable. And that's exactly how she chose to regard them, as a memory. A fleeting flirtation that never outlived a season. Hell, she'd honestly thought he'd gotten over his infatuation with her before they'd reached the shores of Kattegat.

"Halfdan, what we shared in the Mediterranean should remain there," she said, holding his gaze. "I care for you, but not-,"

He yanked her in his arms. She slammed against the hard press of his chest. Before she could pull away ripped to hell lean muscles locked her in place. When she opened her mouth to protest, his lips fell on hers and his tongue began to explore. Too caught up in a moment which should've never taken place in any sequence of time, she allowed her legs to wrap about his waist. Even her arms betrayed her by encircling his neck. Lust rendered her dumb as hell! For even as she returned his kiss she couldn't understand why she'd allowed the interlude to take place. Yet the overwhelming sense of familiarity snatched her back to hot prolonged Parisian nights. To extended mornings in bed while gorging on French pastries. Tears stung her eyes as guitar lessons, bucket lists, and a dry sense of humor served with a side of British accent came rushing back to her.

Halfdan broke the kiss, and then glared down at her, while her feet slipped once again to the ground. "I bid you to now finish that notion."

"Half-," she grabbed his face to stare into the depths of his eyes down to his soul. What she saw there resurrected a part of her she'd long since laid to rest. Almost too scared to believe, she forced the next name from her tongue. "Enz-,"

Bjorn barged through the entrance of the tent. "Halfdan, are you still of a mind to journey with me back-," His words halted when he noticed her. "Bonnie? Why are you here?"

Her gaze swung from Halfdan to Bjorn and back. "I n-needed to—I'm sorry, excuse me."

She didn't know exactly when up became down or vice versa. Yet there she stood looking up at the damn ground as she wondered who the hell turned the world upside down.

****

Bonnie road next to Ivar in his chariot as they moved camp further inland into Ecbert's kingdom. Her thoughts still dwelled on the impossible possibility of Halfdan's true spiritual identity. Could he really be—no, he couldn't. She'd know, wouldn't she?

"Why do you keep your own counsel, hmm?" Ivar's question jarred her from her musings.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Because whenever I have a difficult time understanding certain things, I have to flip them over in my mind a few times before committing them to words."

"Ah, I can appreciate such habits. I too am guilty of the same practices," he said nodding while keeping his gaze trained on the path ahead. "Yet since you now belong to me and I to you, we no longer need to resort to our own counsel."

"I suppose you're right." She leaned over and kissed his neck. "So, perhaps you should tell me why you've been hurling visual battle axes at your brothers."

He chanced a glance at her before looking back at the path. "I know not what you mean."

"Oh well, maybe we shouldn't abandon our own counsels just yet," she said, training her gaze on the path as well.

"Very well," he exhaled, and his shoulders dropped a bit. "None among them will hear my thoughts and strategies for our impending battle with Ecbert. They all disregard me as a cripple and a babe who should do nothing more than obey."

"Then you have to stop being Ivar, their crippled baby brother," she said, turning to eyeball the hell out of his profile. "Become Ivar the Boneless and demand they listen. Once you have their attention the brilliance of your strategy will soothe whatever egos you had to fuck over to be heard. Bjorn may be trash at being faithful, but his mind rivals yours when it comes to battle tactics. He'll recognize an exceptional line of attack when he hears it."

Ivar opened his mouth to respond, but an approaching horse and rider forced it closed again.

"Stop!" Bjorn bellowed to them.

As soon as the rider reached them, he climbed from his horse and led it the rest of the way to Bjorn. Sigurd, Hvitserk, Ubbe, Halfdan and Harald gathered around to hear the news.

The rider nodded to them all, before speaking, "The Saxons or less than a day's ride from here. They'll arrive on the morrow, and they have a large army."

Bjorn turned to peer at them. "Then we'll make camp here. For the next rising we fight. In the name of Ragnar we shall be victorious." He whistled, giving the signal to the rest who followed to make camp.

Seeing Ivar's opportunity slipping away, she bumped him with her hip. When he frowned up at her, she gave him a pointed look, before glancing to Bjorn. "This is your moment! Who will you decide to be, Ivar the cripple or Ivar the Boneless?"

His face hardened as he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. "You can make camp, but I want to see where we're going to fight."

Bonnie squeezed his elbow before jumping from the chariot to go catch up with Halfdan. He stood surrounded by warriors who he appeared to be instructing. "Halfdan, may we speak for a moment?"

He glanced at her, surprise present within his eyes. He nodded, before gesturing to a place in the forest away from others. When they stood out of hearing distance of their companions, he turned to her.

"If you wish to speak with me about what transpired between us last rising-," he began.

"Do you remember what you planned to do before we left Paris?" She questioned, while searching his eyes for any signs of recognition.

Confusion drew his brows together. "Frankia? I wasn't aware you accompanied Ragnar and Bjorn to that raid."

"No," she exhaled as her eyes rolled closed. She shook her head. "Because I didn't. I was referring to another time you may have visited Paris."

He took hold of her hands as he continued to search her eyes. "The only time I've ever been to Frankia was for the raids, and the time we visited Rollo for passage into the Mediterranean Sea."

"Forgive me, my mistake." She turned, but a bout of lacking judgement stopped her. "Watch Ellisif. She's hurting, and she won't be satisfied until Harald feels her pain."

After leaving Halfdan Bonnie hurried back over to where Sigurd, Hvitserk, and Ubbe lingered. When Ubbe saw her approach he glanced away as if he hadn't been stalking the exchange between she and Halfdan moments before. He resumed ignoring her as he'd done since discovering Margrethe's treachery. As always Hvitserk followed Ubbe's lead and pretended she wasn't there. Before her pride had the chance to realize the hit, Sigurd pulled her into his arms and cuddled her close to his side.

"Ivar and Bjorn has taken leave of us to inspect the battlefield. Boneless has a mind to alter our tactics. Wonder who supplied the steel to his spine to speak out about such a bold strategy?" He asked as he leaned down to nuzzle her neck.

"No one." She elbowed him in the belly. "Ivar's always had a spine forged from steel. All of you just choose not to notice." Her gaze swept to Hvitserk who'd snatched his gaze from hers to pretend to be fiddling about with his satchel. She tossed her head in his direction. "What's his problem?"

Sigurd snorted. "I'll not profess to know. I've since learned my brothers lack sense that are common to everyone else in any instance which relates to you."

****

"Will you not fight with them, My Love?" Ivar questioned as they rode toward the battle taking place a couple miles ahead.

Bonnie's shoulder rose and fell as she continued to stare off into the distance. "They don't really need me. Your plan is check mate approved. The only strategies left for Aethelwulf to explore is one of the exit variety. You should be proud of yourself, babe. Yet this is only the beginning of what you'll go on to do."

"Even still, I've watched you train with Sigurd in the dark woman's clearing back at Kattegat. You're every bit the Valkyrie he and Ubbe believes you to be. You have a taste for war," he said as he urged the horse on at an unhurried pace.

She tore her gaze from the horizon to stare at him. "You've watched me and Sigurd train...how?" The path to Ayanna's wasn't an easy trail to trek for the able bodied, so how the hell did Ivar manage?

"My Love," he scoffed, before giving his attention back to the path ahead, "After all of the moons we've shared you must know I'm not without my advantages."

"Hmm." Pleasure bloomed within her chest. She mentally applauded him with a silent touché.

By the time they arrived at the battle Aethelwulf called for his soldiers to retreat. Their warriors celebrated. For they had won the day. Soon Wessex as King Ecbert knew it would fall. They'd managed to drive the prince and his forces back to the ancestral castle. Though as good as their victory tasted, she couldn't help but savor the bitter along with the sweet. A shit ton of more battles lingered between them and their end game. She and Bjorn locked eyes across the battlefield. She'd bet livestock to air their thoughts traveled along the same tracks.