Bonnie lay in bed on her belly with her eyes closed across Ivar's lap. She enjoyed the feel of his callous palms as they moved over her bare shoulders, the arch of her spine to massage the globes of her ass. Every so often, his fingers teased the entrance of her damp slit. Each time, she nearly bit her tongue in half. She squirmed as his strokes wrenched another moan from the depths of her throat. Goddess he was getting good at dragging her to the edge only to leave her lingering there.

"There's not one in all of Midgard or Asgard more perfect than you, My Love," he said as his fingers grazed the backs of her thighs. "Fate has surely favored me for gifting me with you."

A hint of a smile warmed her lips. "No, Babe, this moment is perfect. If only we could stay locked within this moment indefinitely. Then we won't have to live through the shit storm cresting the horizon."

"Shit storm?" The words burst from his mouth hauling a question mark in their wake.

She exhaled a slight chortle. "It means we're not always gonna be good. Truth is that things are gonna go so wrong between us left will be our default setting because we'll never again be right together."

His hands paused mid-stroke. "You've seen this?"

"No, but your mother did," she rolled over on her side to stare up at him. "It was one of the many visions she saw before I took her sight."

The tension in his face relaxed as the corner of his mouth lifted. "Then we shall not worry over what my mother claimed will come to pass. Her visions weren't always accurate." He rested a hand on her hip as he reached out to tweak one of her nipples. "Before I departed with my father for England, she said there'd be a terrible storm during the voyage, and I'd drown. Yet, here I sit very much alive."

Her heart bled too much to tell him that his mother's vision of him dying on his way to England was more symbolic than literal and if assessed by those means, her foretelling of his future was indeed quite accurate.

"Maybe, you're right." She cradled the side of her head in the palm of her hand.

"Of course I speak without error." He palmed her breast. "I often do, My Love. Now come and perch upon my face while I pleasure you with my mouth. While I do so be liberated to do the same with my manstand. There's nothing I enjoy more than when you take me to the back of your throat."

"Hmph," she narrowed her eyes before rolling from his lap and out of his reach. "Nice try. You're still being punished for your behavior at first meal."

His eyes flared as his jaw dropped. "This can't be so. Hvitserk and I are now of one accord."

"Your punishment has nothing to do with Hvitserk and everything to do with you talking to me like a child in front of the sons and daughters under my dominion," she snapped, climbing from the bed to redress.

"But, My Love," he stared at her before staring pointedly at the pulsing pink erection towering in his lap.

Her eyes rolled. "When you learn to treat me how you insist on being treated, then he'll never have to worry about suffering for the sins of your tongue."

"I'm sorry, but-,"

"No," she held up a hand to halt his half-ass apology, "Don't you dare offer me a no count apology burdened by a whole hearted explanation. Especially, since you were wrong, Ivar!"

Both of his hands shot up as remorse overran his features. "You have the right of it, My Love. Of course you do. There should never be a moment when my consideration of you doesn't befit you as my Supreme or Queen. I'm sorry, I truly am. Will you forgive me?"

"Yes, you know I will," she said, dropping back down on the edge of the mattress. "There's not much I wouldn't forgive you for, Babe, and that's what scares me. For I know a rising will come when my love for you will tear my heart apart.

He scooched closer to her, and then gripped her by the sides of her face. His fingers burrowed into her curls at the base of her skull. The sharp edge of his nails scraped against her scalp. "Bonnie, your heart is safe with me. I swear it upon all that is sacred, I'll rip out my own before I mishandle yours."

"This rising you speak the truth," she nuzzled his palm with her cheek. "But I fear time, misunderstanding, and miscommunication will make a liar out of you. And what scares me even more than that is knowing pain, rage, and pride will keep us divided even when our confusion has cleared."

"Then you fear for naught, for my heart will always overrule my head and bring me back to you." He leaned forward and took possession of her mouth.

She moaned into the kiss as she allowed him to pull her on top of him. Quicker than she thought him capable, he ripped away her pants and pushed inside of her. She gasped, and he devoured it as he delivered tongue plunging kisses until her head felt as if it had been stuffed with feathers. In a rapid but steady tempo, she bounced up and down on him. Each time, his hard as a brick prick tapped spots she believed impossible to reach. He snatched his mouth from hers to lean down and squeeze her breasts together. Simultaneously, he licked, nibbled, and sucked on her nipples.

Overcome by the sensations swirling through her, she screamed. Her magic exploded from every open orifice and pore on her body. Ivar's solid gold gaze bulged and crossed. Falling back on the mattress, he took her with him all while slamming his hips into hers, feeding her good-good more dick than she knew what to do with. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her so tight to his chest, she could barely work air in and out of her lungs.

An unshakable pressure began to build at the bottom of her stomach and push south. His fingers slipped between her nether lips and stroked her clit. Once, twice, then the building force peaked and blew her world apart. Another scream tore from her throat as Ivar roared. His dick jerked his release. The arhythmic juddering of his manhood quaked her g-spot and once more she found herself tumbling down the rabbit hole. Exhausted and wrung dry, she collapsed on his chest as she wheezed her way from one breath to the next.

Her heart swelled against her breast. Goddess she loved this man so much it pumped her heart with fear. Soft snores met her ears. His chest vibrated underneath her cheek. Once again she'd put his ass to bed before he'd eaten second meal. Her lids grew heavy as the grin faded from her mouth. Maybe a quick cat nap wouldn't hurt was the thought which tip-toed across her mind as she burrowed deeper into his embrace. As her lids lowered she noticed a crack in their bedroom door. The candles flickered, and the shadows near the door somewhat lifted. Just before her eyes shut for good, Hvitserk's empty expression and burning eyes filled her sight.

****

Alfred felt the skin between his brow ripple. The disturbance at his brow herald the impending formation of a frown. Though he prided himself on the unguardedness of his mind when venturing to understand another's view point, in that instance while attending his brother he discovered such a notion to be rather trying.

"Am I to understand, his Grace had a vision from God which implores for you and I to abduct Bonnie from the Northmen?" He questioned, sure he must've misheard, misinterpreted, or just bloody mistook the whole of what he'd just explained.

Ethelred inclined his head to the right in a nod of sorts. "He says god has told him that's how we triumph over the Pagans."

"By stealing Bonnie?" Alfred questioned, needing more of a confirmation.

His brother slouched further down in his seat. "I prefer to believe that we're rescuing her."

"It's not what you believe, it's what she'll believe!" He bit into an apple. "And she'll be furious. I'll have you know, according to my spies, she's rather overjoyed with her Pagans. You're a bigger fool than Bishop Heahmund has proven to be if you believe she'll allow herself to be taken without contest."

His brother shrugged as he picked through the fare on his platter. "We've God on our side, and if Heahmund speaks the truth, there's no contest on her part that can thwart his will."

"Alright, brother," he nodded, tossing the apple back on his trough. "Say we're successful in our endeavor to abscond with Bonnie. Then what? What does Heahmund intend to do with her?"

"It remains to be seen," Ethelred said, while casting his gaze to his goblet of wine.

"Yes it remains to be seen, for what man has sight to see what has yet to come to pass? Yet, I can see in the gaze you refuse to set upon me, his Grace has discussed his plans for Bonnie with you," he said, narrowing his stare as he scrutinized his brother.

Ethelred uttered something in a lowered tone, before lifting his voice. "Heahmund means to put Bonnie to death."

"Surely, you jest!" Outrage drove him from his seat. His brother's lips pressed themselves into a firm line as he shook his head once. "Then I refuse to believe this vision was sent by our father in heaven. In verity, if Heahmund is claiming such a thing to be so then I'm forced to think these are his own ambitions at work."

"The putting Bonnie to death bit," his brothers head bobbed, "yes, I agree without prejudice. Heahmund did, however, admit that dispatching Bonnie wasn't exactly part of his vision. He only assumed, since what else would our God want with a witch, his words not mine."

"Has he met her?" He demanded.

"No." His brother shook his head in the negative as he ran the pad of his thumb over the rim of his goblet. "He confirmed he hadn't had the privilege."

Alfred reintroduced his hind quarters with the cushion of his seat. "And you believe we should attempt this unreasonable undertaking?"

"Should we not, brother? We have as much claim to her as the Northmen," Ethelred said, raising his glowing amber glare to arrest him. "And if retrieving Bonnie will ensure our victory over our Viking enemies then is there really a decision to be decided. Asides, our God has ordained it."

His back collided with the chair. "What shall we tell father?"

"That we're off to do God's bidding," Ethelred said with a one shoulder shrug.

****

Several nights after Bonnie had saw Hvitserk in their bedroom she worked up the nerve to approach him. Any other time, she'd call any of the brothers on any given rising on their bullshit and stunts, but this subject was a dog of a different bark. Naturally, it embarrassed her Hvits had witnessed an act so intimate and private go down between her and Ivar. What the hell had he been doing their anyway? And where the hell were the warriors who usually stood guard at their bedroom door. She inhaled, and then exhaled. The why's and the how's no longer mattered. He'd seen what he'd seen and none of it could be undone.

She discovered Hvitserk on the torrents of the castles talking to himself as he gazed out at the blazing torches of the English soldiers who surrounded their gates. "Why did I remain behind for her when she has not a care for my presence in this place? Her heart belongs to Ivar and there is no place for me within its walls."

"That's not true, Hvits, and we both know it to be so," she whispered from next to him.

His head snatched in her direction, his eyes nearly as big as his face. "Hjarta, is everything as it should be? Does Ivar have need of me?"

"Hvits, your presence brings me comfort. I wanted you to stay because I can't imagine being anywhere in this world without you," she moved next to him and took the seat at his side. "You have to know there's never a question of whether you have a place in my heart." She wrapped her arms around his waist. He cupped the side of her face with his palm and rested his forehead on hers. "Why'd you watch me and Ivar? Seeing us like that could only ever hurt you, baby."

"Seeing you with him didn't pain me," he whispered, his lips only a breath away from hers. "It enflamed me and filled my cock to nigh bursting. Seeing you two together forced me to pray to Odin that he'd somehow see fit to make me a part of your coupling. That he'd allow me to be there stroking and thrusting into you same as Ivar."

Her breath caught as an image of the three of them exploded in her mind. She swallowed, while her heart hammered the beat of MGK's Bad Things against her chest. "Imp-possible," she sputtered. "I'm not Margrethe."

"This I know well," he breathed into existence as he allowed his lips to graze hers. "Yet, something within tells me you, Ivar, and I will be the right of it. Can you not feel it as well, Hjarta?" His hand crept up her shirt to palm her breast."

Her eyes rolled closed as he nipped at her bottom lip. "Why'd you leave?" Her question left the split of her mouth calmer than still water despite the firestorm of lust and emotions surging rampant throughout her body.

"What?" He lifted his forehead from hers to stare into her eyes.

"The night before we left for England you came to me and I cleansed you." As she stared up at him, his face blurred. Pain rippled through her chest. "We fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, and the next morning you were gone. You ignored me after the fact, hell you wouldn't even look at me. That hurt me, Hvits. You hurt me."

"There are things at work that even you are unaware of, Hjarta," he pulled her into his arms and gathered her onto his lap. "Yet, you must know I didn't leave your bed or arms willingly and I'm sorry if my absence caused you distress."

"Hvits, this isn't right," she whispered, while inwardly attempting to talk herself out of his embrace. "It's not like back in Kattegat when I could openly love and hold you all. Then I only belonged to me, but that's not the case anymore. Ivar and I are together. I won't betray him with you."

Once again he rested his forehead on hers. "And I'm not asking that of you. Fate has already ordained us and even if I must wait a thousand solstice cycles for the vision we both witnessed to come to pass, then wait I will."

****

Ivar perched on a stool glaring down at a map of the surrounding woods Bonnie had sketched for him. He'd been sequestered alone in his throne room, the once chapel, for half the rising attempting to plot a plan of attack against the Saxons. Yet, no such plots had revealed themselves to him. The door to the room open, and the fragrant smell of roasted chicken drifted under his nose.

"Sit it there on the table, and leave me," he said without tearing his glare from the map.

He heard the shuffling of the table being prepared, yet he still refused to attend the slave who dared to intrude upon his solitude. Even Bonnie knew to leave him to his devices when he quit the castle for his throne room.

"Will you not take your meal while it's still warm, Ivar?" A feminine voice questioned.

His neck snapped up. "I said leave-," his words died a swift death upon his lips. The slave girl he'd once thought to sacrifice, but instead liberated, stood before him looking as beautiful as she had the first time he'd sighted her. "You..."

An enchanting smile dazzled her face. "Yes, it's me. You haven't misremembered."

"How could I—um I meant why're you still here?" His heart raced and stuttered in his chest all at the same time. "I freed you. You needn't remain here."

She took a few timid steps towards him as her beautiful blue jeweled like eyes gazed upon him longingly. "I'm aware. Yet, since I'm now free to do as I please, then you must know it pleases me to be wherever you are, Ivar."

A thrill shot through him triggered by her words. "And it pleases me to hear you say so. Alas, I'm not at liberty to indulge such a notion as you and I."

"Are you not the leader of this great army?" She demanded as she closed the distance between them.

His gaze searched her lovely face as he inclined his head in a nod. "Yes."

"Then as such I assumed you able to indulge in any notion you had a mind to," she whispered as she shoved his map aside and hopped to perch on the erected slab of wood. Hoisting her skirts, she spread her thighs, so her glistening pinkness was visible through the tufts of hair on her muff. His prick twitched in his pants. "Would you like to touch me, my King?"

The combination of her saturated muff and referring to him as her king erected his manstand. He limped his way to stand between her legs. "Very much so."

She took his hand in hers and guided it to the apex of her thighs. When he felt the silky smoothness of her moist heat he nigh relieved himself in his pants. He pulled his hand away to inhale her essence. Her womanly sap didn't smell as intoxicating as Bonnie's, yet she didn't smell of the sea either. There was a heady musk to her juices that intrigued his curiosities. He stroked the firm pleasure button nestled between her feminine lips and her answering moans were like songs from a goddess to his ears.

"Have me, my King," she panted next to his ear.

His eyes crossed as he leaned back to capture her mouth with his. Her tongue tasted of wild berries and sweet mead. He groaned in to the kiss. Without forewarning is trousers fell to his ankles and his not so boneless prick strained away from him in the direction of her now soaking muff. Unable to complete one simple thought, he pushed inside of her. A growl born in his chest pushed its way up his throat and out his mouth. He pushed her back on the slab of wood as she squealed her pleasure louder than two rutting pigs. The sounds incited his prick to swell even more.

"You're sooo big, my King!" She sputtered between moans.

"And you're so wide and deep, I wager I could swim in you if I had a mind to do so," he said swirling his hips about in an attempt to touch even one of her feminine walls.

Her hands slid under his shirt to tear at the skin on his back. "That is unkind to say, my King."

"Why is the truth so unkind to hear, My Beautiful English Rose?" He kissed her once more.

Balancing himself on the edge of the wood slab with one hand, he used the other to lift the slaves shapely leg over his shoulder. When he did, he sank deeper into her slippery heat. The familiar tug from the bottom of his gut to his ball sack spoke of him being close to his release. He squeezed her succulent thigh as he increased the speed of his strokes. By now her wails were echoing off the walls. Oh Odin's eye he was so close!

"I KNOW LIKE HELL MY FUCKING EYES BETTER BE LYING!" The thundering of Bonnie's voice tossed icy water on the flames of lust which had held him in its thrall only moments before.

He tore himself free of the slaves muff and whirled around to face Bonnie. Forgetting about the trousers wrapped around his ankles he tumbled to the ground. The slave girl hopped from the table to see to him and no sooner she discovered herself on her knees screeching loud enough to bring down the walls of the castle. She clawed at the material of her skirts which covered her muff. The smell of burning flesh drifted under his nose. Realization of what Bonnie was doing to the slave stretched his eyes wide. He looked to his betrayed love and his heart nigh stopped at the sight of her solid gold gaze.

"Enough! This is not her fault," He yelled, attempting to be heard through her hysterical state.