Bonnie sat perched on the arm of Bjorn's seat during the celebratory dinner for avenging Ragnar. He whispered filthy things to her while she attempted to ignore the scene unfolding before her. Her gaze swept to Sigurd who to the naked eye appeared indifferent. Though her more practiced scrutiny peeped the lines of unease etched at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

Bjorn pressed his lips to the side of her neck. "It is time," he whispered.

She moved so he could stand. After she handed him the horn she moved to perch on the arm of Sigurd's chair. He wrapped an arm around her waist. She gave him a reassuring smile, before giving her attention back over to Bjorn.

"I always knew I had to return to explore the Mediterranean Sea," Bjorn declared as he cut his eye at her and smiled.

She offered him a distracted grin. When his gaze drifted back to the crowd she glanced down the table only to discover Ivar glaring at her. A frown scrunched her face.

"What?" She mouthed at him.

He rolled his eyes away without acknowledging her silent question. Her and Sigurd exchanged looks. For they both knew the bullshit would soon follow. And they were right. Soon as Bjorn completed his toast and left the elevated podium to socialize with other warriors among the crowd. Ivar began his. He amped the horde of warriors with promises of future battles and fame.

As Ubbe and Ivar argued over Ivar's capability of leading an army, she took the opportunity to speak with Sigurd. "Don't say a word. Do you understand me?" He opened his mouth to speak, but she wasn't there for any of his well-meaning contradictions. "I mean it, Sigurd! Not a fucking word."

"And what of you, Sigurd? Will you flee with Bjorn to a land where the sun never slumbers or will you remain here where your still needed?" Ivar asked as his gaze lingered on her.

Bonnie gave her head a covert shake. She hoped on every lyric of We are the World he'd take her advice to not say a damn thing regardless of the temptation to do so. Yet men rarely ever listened. Lothbrok men even less. "My place is at Bonnie's side and she has chosen to return to the Mediterranean with Bjorn."

"You mean our fickle Supreme who sits at your right hand," Ivar growled through the clench of his teeth. "Will you really follow a...woman," Bonnie's neck popped because on all she loved she swore he said woman as if he meant to call her something else. "Who we've all known the feel of to the other side of the sea, hmm? Sigurd," he tsked.

Harald's barking laughter sounded from where he sat up front. She exhaled, while praying her reflexes were faster than Ivar's.

"Reclaim your words or forfeit your tongue, Little Ivar," The Snake in Sigurd's eye shifted as the chill in his tone lent an icy bite to his words.

Bjorn back tracked to the platform. His gaze moved from Ivar to Sigurd. "What did he say?"

"Ivar called our Supreme fickle and her girdles light. He claims you've all had her," Harald rasped, joy bursting from his sand paper victimized vocal chords. "If this is true, I say we should all have a tur-," the hollow crown king gave over his words in favor of sputtering coughs. He began to claw at his throat as his skin turned three different shades of red.

She clenched her fist. "Remember to whom it is you refer, Harald." The group who surrounded him moments before dispersed. Only Halfdan remained and appeared concerned. "For if you've truly misplaced me in your addled mind I have no problem setting aside an hour glass or three to beat the ever loving recollection of me back into you." Her hand unclenched. He gasped as air returned to his lungs. She swung her glare back to Ivar. "You were saying?"

"Yes continue to snivel and wail like the weepy cripple we all know you to be, Boneless. Too bad mommy's not here to calm your fit by shoving her tit into your mouth?" A sneer like smile crept across Sigurd's face as he planted his fists on the table to lean forward and level Ivar with a mocking glare.

"Shut your mouth!" Ivar slammed his ax on the table.

Oh hell!

"And to think, you're fated to be Bonnie's mate. As if you could ever be her match in... well anything! How fucking insulting. Then you have the audacity to place a shadow upon her honor," he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her into his side. Her eyes rolled. At this point, Sigurd would get the ax whether he folded or let it ride. So she allowed him the floor. "Bonnie's sheathe has never known the plunge of any man's prick. Not one among us has ever been with her. Least of all you...especially you."

He allowed the burden of his meaning to weigh on all within hearing, before continuing. "Yet worry not, Manstandless Ivar. As your elder more able bodied brother, mother always settled upon me the chores your cripple nature wouldn't permit you to do. This is no different. Just as I have before I'll come to your aid now, Boneless." In one swift move Sigurd swept the table clear, hoisted her on the flat surface, wedged his body between the cradle of her thighs, and began dry humping her on the table. He pumped into her with exaggerated dips of his hips and slow grinding circles. Oh unholy hell! "I'll be sure to keep her well plowed for you." He faked a grunt like moan. "If you like, I'm even minded to allow you to watch."

Not even a fraction of a second later Ivar's ax hurtled towards Sigurd's heart. With ease Bonnie contorted around and halted the bladed weapon mid-spin. She gave Sigurd a pointed look before snatching the broad ax from the air and sliding from the table. "You just had to come for his manhood didn't you?" Dropping the battleax, she spun to jab a finger in Ivar's direction. "Had that blade met its mark, then I would've kicked your ass like a field goal through the gates of Valhalla. Prophecy be damned!" She snatched her Enforcer/Confessor by the front of his shirt. "Sigurd, come!"

****

"And you see, my brother," Bjorn said as he placed both hands on the table to lean over him. "This is why it's better if you settle here. Choose a plot of land and a wife. This is the life which will afford you a wealth of happiness. Leave leading and waging wars to those less emotional."

He then turned to follow the path Bonnie and Sigurd took moments before. Ivar glowered at his back. Choose a plot of land and a wife?! He snatched his chalice from the table, and then gulped the soured ale.

"Why would you attempt to murder Sigurd? He's our brother, Ivar!" Ubbe demanded from his left. "What if Bonnie hadn't halted the blade when she did?"

"Well then he'd be dead wouldn't he, Ubbe?" He snapped still agitated over how Bonnie rushed to Sigurd's defense.

Ubbe's glare slitted even further as disbelief swung his head from side to side.

Hvitserk drew closer to hiss at him. "Why did you say such things about Bonnie? Sigurd did well to call you out on your false claims, Ivar. None among us has ever plowed her. Yet you place dirt upon her name, why?"

He waved Hvitserk away. "I only wanted to provoke Sigurd. Have you not noticed his change in character as of late? I'm not at peace when I'm ignorant of his motivations."

"So, you didn't mean what you spoke of Bonnie?" Hvitserk asked as he relaxed in his seat.

"Of course not!" He growled from the clench of his teeth as his glare moved between each of his brothers. "She is My Love. Though I am angered she has a mind to join Bjorn and Torvi in matrimony."

"What?!" Hvitserk came erect in his seat once more.

"Impossible," Ubbe shook his head as he settled back in his seat. "Bonnie would never become anyone's second wife."

"I speak the truth, Brother. I heard it with my own ears," he said, slamming the chalice back on the table. "Bjorn wants to divorce Torvi for carrying on with Lagertha-,"

"Torvi was rubbing muffs with Lagertha?" Hvitserk demanded.

"And Bjorn knows about it?" Ubbe questioned in a lowered voice as he moved his stool closer.

"Yes to you both," he said, affording each of them pointed looks brimming with annoyance. "Bonnie, however, doesn't want Bjorn to divorce Torvi. She thinks herself in love with her and wants nothing more than to have Torvi as her wife."

Hvitserk and Ubbe shared a glance riddled with confusion, before Ubbe turned to him and spoke. "She does understand Torvi won't be her wife, that she'll remain Bjorn's?"

"None of these things matter, Ubbe," he said, slowing his speech. "What's important is if we are to succeed in our endeavors here in England. We'll need Bonnie."

"Yes, but her vow to Bjorn will not allow them to part ways," Hvitserk said, huddling closer as well. "And after what King Harald did to her in the Mediterranean." He shook his head. "There's not a possibility he'll leave her behind."

"Perhaps we can delay Bjorn's return to Kattegat," he said, while sifting through different plots in his mind.

"Kattegat?" Ubbe's forehead rippled as his head tilted about. "What do you mean? Bjorn is journeying to the Mediterranean straightaway."

"No, Bonnie convinced him to return to Kattegat to speak with Torvi of her relations with Lagertha," he responded a bit more distracted still with forging a faultless plan.

"Then he's no longer minded to return to Kattegat. For he just informed Halfdan they'd be journeying to the Mediterranean on first tide next rising," Hvitserk confirmed.

His brows gathered together, "But he assured Bonnie they'd return to Kattegat before voyaging to the Mediterranean. In verity, he prom-," he halted his sentence as a smirk twisted his lips. He sat back in his seat and lifted his chalice from the table. "Brothers, I do believe we've discovered our misplaced piece. Now we only need to bear witness as the perfect plan plots itself."

****

Bonnie glared at Ivar as he slithered passed her. She still felt a way about things he'd accused her of and how he almost killed Sigurd. They hadn't spoken since, and she doubted if she'd go out of her way to say farewell to him before they set sail that morning. She stopped at the entrance of the tent when she heard Harald ask Bjorn about returning to Kattegat.

"I have no intention of doing that. My fate is too urgent," she overheard Bjorn reply.

She marched into the tent and riddled his body with holes from her glare alone. "What the hell do you mean you're not returning to Kattegat first, Bjorn? You gave me your word you would."

"I never gave you my word," He said, exhaling as if she were no more than a nag who'd become his routine. "You assumed we would return because I never allowed you to believe otherwise. Yet now that we are discussing it plainly, we won't be returning to Kattegat. We'll be sailing straightaway to the Mediterranean."

"Oohh!" She lifted her hand and allowed her sorcery to snatch the cup he held from his grasp and toss the contents in his face. "You manipulative, double dealing slick talking son of a...ooh!" she growled. "Shield maiden! Just who the hell do you think you're dealing with, Ironside? That you can promise me one thing, and then attempt to switch your words around like some slimy used car salesman?" She gave Hvitserk a—what the fuck—glance. "He must not know who I am."

Bjorn calmly wiped the ale from his face with the palms of his hands. "Become as emotional as you please. My decision still remains unchanged."

"You will release me from our vow this instance!" She said, jabbing a finger at the air between them.

His glare slitted. "I will not!"

"Fine!" She raised her chin so she could stare down her nose at him. "If I must return to the Mediterranean it won't be on the same ship as you. Goddess, I can't even look at you."

She spun around and stalked out of the tent.

"Sail upon any ship of your choosing as long as you sail, and your destination is the Mediterranean!" Bjorn roared after her.

She stomped away from the tent with her magic blazing a hole through her chest. When the hell did Bjorn begin to believe it okay to handle her in such a way? Had she been too forgiving when it came to his many fuckups? Did he believe her kindness to be a weakness on her part?

"Bonnie, I have your things here," Sigurd said, pausing in his trek towards the waiting ships. "There's no reason for you to venture back to camp."

"Fine," she waved him off without stopping. "Give me a moment, please."

For the next hour or so she sat alone in her tent, downing shot glass after shot glass of Vodka. While Mary J Blige's, Not Gone Cry, blasted from her sorcery powered Trixie speaker on repeat. She had to come to terms with the fact she and Bjorn would always be a miss. That's normally how things worked out when two people weren't meant for the other. To continue to force something that would never go would only hurt them both in the end. The slit of her tent flap opened. Ivar slithered in followed, by Hvits, and Ubbe. They carried a tankard of ale and four chalices.

"What is that horrendous wailing and squawking?" Hvitserk questioned as his narrowed eyed stare flicked around her tent.

"I wanted to offer apologies for my words last rising, My Love," Ivar said as he pulled himself up in one of her chairs. "I wanted to provoke Sigurd and as of late you're the only one who incites his passions. Alas, I fear I may have gone too far in my efforts and for this I'll forever be sorry. Never again in regards to you will such baseless slander cross my lips. You have my promise."

"Oh, Ivar if it's your word you give then it's your word I believe," her mouth hinted at a smile, "because though you might break a bone, you can never break a promise."

His beautiful face dissolved into an array of wrinkles and furrows. "What?"

"I see you've brought ale for a proper send off. Let's get to it, shall we?" She said slapping her hands together, before moving to remove the tankard of ale from Hvits grasp.

Ubbe placed the four cups down on the wooden table. When she attempted to pour up, he took it from her. "Allow me, Valkyrie."

"Hmm," she snickered to herself. He was so sexy. Damn, he would've made the best husband. Aside from his blatant disrespect with Margrethe once they'd made it over that hump they would've coasted in happy wedded bliss from there. "We would've been so happy together, Ubbe." His too blue gaze searched her face as he handed her a cup. "We would've sailed foreign seas you and me. Searched for distant lands to settle. Raised a family." She switched the song to Pink's A Million Dreams and spelled them, so they understood English. "This would've been us. Our family song." She began humming it to herself.

He listened for a moment, before saying, "We could still have those things, do those things." Reaching up, he attempted to palm her cheek and she smacked his hand away.

"No, you smell of rotten eggs and that thing you married smells even worse," she said, lifting her cup to her face and sniffing it before taking a swig. Hvitserk snorted and her gaze moved to him. The unremarkable one. Her future. Oh, Goddess, why him? He lacked a mind of his own. Would she be expected to lead him about for the rest of their eternity? "Hvits do you believe we'll be happy in our life together or do you believe as I do. That we're one big cosmic joke meant to amuse the powers that be."

His face sagged a bit as his shoulders rose and fell. "I know not. Yet, I'd like to believe a rising will come when I'm the one who's responsible for your happiness. And you'll look upon me the way you gaze upon my brothers." He glance down at his cup. "I often ponder what it would be like to be on the receiving end of your affections."

She pointed at Trixie. "And that's why this one is for you." Shawn Mendes' Wonder began to serenade them.

"My Love, you shouldn't taunt Hvitserk so," Ivar said. His expression one of a mild scold. "It's cruel."

"Cruel?!" Her eyes flared as if disbelief gave her the baby powder full palm service. "No, you know what's cruel? Building the man you love and adore legs, then having him tell you to fuck off afterwards. Oh," She laughed as she raised a finger, "you know what else is cruel? Having the center of your universe tell you he wants to lose his virginity to the village jumpoff because all of his brothers have given it a whirl."

"My love-,"

"No!" She yelled at him as her vision blurred. "You don't get to shut me down because you can't handle the truth! And since everyone else here has a song, how about we keep it moving with the running theme. This one's for you. It's a bit of a foreshadow, but seeing as Hvits is my supposed end game, I'd say it's rather fitting." Billie Eilish's, No Time To Die, began to play.

She stood to grab the tankard to poor herself another drink and began to sway. Whoa! She must've reached and passed her limit. The room rotated, but she could've sworn she hadn't moved.

"Bonnie, are you well?" Ubbe's voice echoed back to her as if he stood at the far end of a tunnel.

"No." She cradled her head in her hands. "Somethings wrong." Then her world went black.

****

"And you witnessed her sail away earlier this rising on another ship?" Sigurd questioned as he scrutinized each one of his brothers.

Ivar gave him a slow nod. "That is what I said, Sigurd. I did not question it because you know how impulsive my love can be when she's emotional."

"Hmm," his head jerked as a smirk hitched a corner of his mouth. He didn't believe his younger brother for a moment. He had a mind to rip the camp asunder until he discovered Bonnie's whereabouts.

"I witnessed it as well," Ubbe said, locking gazes with him. "She appeared troubled, distressed even."

Sigurd reluctantly added. "When I spoke with her this morn she did seem set for a round of her day drinking. Yet, normally she remains in her keep until the effects of the fire water she guzzles wears off." Hvitserk shrugged as his usually confused expression adorned his face. "Well, I guess this is farewell for some time, brothers."

"Farewell," each mumbled. Ubbe and Hvitserk pounded him on the shoulder, while Ivar thumped him on the shin.

He nodded once more to each of them, before heading to Bjorn's ship. A splintering in his gut warned he was leaving behind something of great import, but could it really be what he believed it to be?

"Where's, Bonnie?" Bjorn demanded.

He glanced back to his brothers who still stood on the shore. Each continued to watch him while barely sharing a blink between them. "Ubbe said he witnessed Bonnie sail away on a ship earlier the morn. He claimed she appeared distressed."

"Ack!" Bjorn scoffed. "I'm not shocked! She all but said she do so this morn after she discovered I wouldn't be journeying to Kattegat first. This is good. It will give her time to settle in her anger. By the time we reunite, she'll be moved to forgive me as she always is." He turned to glare at the Seaman. "Get the oars in the water!"

****

Ubbe watched his elder and younger brother sail away. He couldn't believe they'd entertain such a notion as Bonnie departing on a separate ship. Why would they ever think such a story true of her? Even he knew it mattered not how angry she found herself with them. She'd never allow them to journey alone outside her protection. For whether Bjorn cared to believe it or not, Bonnie was in verity the real Iron on his side.

Hvitserk snorted. "Sigurd actually believed us."