Bjorn watched Bonnie slip through the beaded barrier, his heart full and manstand heavy. How could that woman still claim his heart? He'd been sure his love for her faded during his time away. Yet when he cast his gaze upon her the love he once felt surged through him. It nigh forced him to his knees.

Throughout the eve he'd watched Bonnie drift about the hall bewitching everyone in her wake. No other woman compared. Not even the Sami Princess with whom he'd believed himself so taken. The potent attraction he'd felt for her before Bonnie entered the hall had fizzled to a less than trivial interest. Especially after having his Mystical One in his arms and upon his tongue. All he wanted was her and tonight he'd have her. This eve in his bed furs. By the next rising, in matrimony as his wife.

When enough time had passed since her departure, he sought his leave of his mother's personal quarters. The feast still carried on as it would until the first light of the next rising. As he made his way through the hall, he overheard various festers speaking of Bonnie. Many commented on the matchlessness of her beauty. Others spoke of sensing her great power. Then there were those who whispered of offering their blood to her. How they heard to do so was to know pleasure beyond that of carnal means. He knew not if there was truth in what they heard spoken. For he'd only ever accepted the favor of her blood from her. Yet, indulging in her life essence filled him with a strength and swiftness he'd never known.

"King Svase won't allow you to lie with his daughter without first entering into matrimony with her," his mother said as she eased next to him. She stared out over the hall without sparing him a glance. "He's willing to speak to you early next rising if this is something with which you're agreeable."

His gaze shifted to the Sami Princess. The need that once enflamed him when he looked upon her no longer incited his manstand. "It is not."

"What?" Lagertha tore her gaze from the festers to burden him with a disbelieving glare. "You pleaded with me to speak with the Sami king about his daughter and now he's expressed an interest in a union between you both, you no longer want her? That's senseless! What has brought about such a cha-," her expression morphed from one of anger to mocking pleasure. "Would your displace of interest have anything to do with you becoming reacquainted with our Supreme?"

His brows rose as he searched for the precise words to mislead his mother. "Bonnie? Has she yet arrived?"

"You know well she has." Lagertha narrowed her gaze as she folded her arms across her chest. "You said she no longer held your affection. Is that not true?"

He opened his mouth to speak the right of it to her.

"I've never known such anger from Bonnie," Sigurd said as he came to stand on the other side of him. "She accused me of purposefully abandoning her in England. This is not true! I pled with you to lend me a ship so I could return for her, but you turned your face against such notions. Claimed it was Fate's will, that Bonnie never wanted to return to the Mediterranean."

He shrugged, wanting nothing more than to seek his leave of the hall. "Lend her time, Bonnie is forgiving in nature. She'll turn to you once more."

"And what of me?" Halfdan questioned upon his approach, two chalices clutched firmly in each hand. "How am I to lure her into matrimony if I can't lure her into a simple exchange of words?" He handed Bjorn one of the drinks of ale.

His mother laughed from the depths of her throat. "Matrimony? That's quite a lofty aspiration you've plotted for our Supreme, Halfdan."

Bjorn eyes rolled closed. First his mother, then Sigurd, now Halfdan? If he didn't know himself to be favored by the gods he'd believe fate herself had a mind to prevent him from knowing the warmth of Bonnie's hearth. The notion alone provoked him to imbibe the entire contents of the chalice in a single swallow. He belched his contentment. He'd need another.

****

"Where is she?" Bishop Heahmund questioned as he moved another piece upon the board.

Ivar narrowed his gaze on the move, while he attempted to conceal his distress over Heahmund's inquiry. "Where is whom?"

"The Intercessor!" The bishop demanded, lifting his glare from the board to rest upon him. "The one you heathens refer to as your Supreme!"

"Intercessor?" He folded his arms across his chest to regard him. This was not the first time he'd heard a Christian call his love the name.

"Yes." Heahmund raised his chin to cast his glare down his nose at him. "Our Lord's holy spirit in the world. Now where is she? I have need of her. My soul must be unburdened."

He laughed and glanced over his shoulder at Hvitserk whose countenance remained marred by a scowl. "Christians, hmm?" Returning his gaze back to Heahmund, his laughter faded. "My betrothed has decided to join the side of my enemies."

"Ah." Heahmund moved another piece on the board. "So your transgression came to light. Just as well. The filth you align yourself with will only sully her grace. May she remain beyond your reach."

Rage swelled within him and thundered between his ears. He swept the board from the table. "Careful, Bishop. The move matters not when I'm the one who controls the board." He tugged the dagger from his trousers and scratched his head with the blade. "You should have more of a care for your tongue. After all, it's not as if you need it to lift a sword."

"How do you plan to attack?" Heahmund questioned the genuine threat before him.

He slammed the blade of the dagger into the table. "I've yet to decide. Bonnie knows my mind as if it were her own. Every plan of attack I think to plot shall have five defenses in place to thwart our efforts. Perhaps I should allow you to forge the battle strategy."

"Why not halt in your attempts of controlling the board and simply match her for moves in a remote possibility of out maneuvering her?" Heahmund studied him with an unshifting stare.

"If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles," he muttered to himself, right before clarity had its way with him. His gaze flared as a grin threatened to rip his face in half. "Bonnie may know me like no other. Yet who in Midgard knows her better than you or I?" He turned to regard Hvitserk. "Come, brother! Perhaps I do have a battle strategy from which you can secure a victory."

****

Bonnie awakened in the cabin by the inlet alone. She'd arrived the night before and fell asleep waiting on Bjorn. Now in the cold light of morning she felt like a damn fool. Because who else would go traipsing through the forest in lingerie on a near moonless and starless night if not a damn fool? What the hell was wrong with her when it came to Lothbrok men? Bjorn had ditched her in England and not looked back once. Not mentally, physically, or emotionally! So why in the good Goddess name was she so willing to fall back in with him again?

She wrenched herself up in an upright position, just as the door to the cabin opened. Bjorn hurried into the one room keep. When he noticed she was awake, his movements loss the element of haste. They stared at each other, neither saying anything. The guilt which radiated off of him triggered her gut to roll and buck. Nausea tickled the back of her throat. Bullshit always made her sick to her stomach and he had the look of a man ready to shovel it.

"You've changed your mind," she said. Her voice nothing more than a mere whisper even in its matter of fact state.

He closed the distance between them and knelt next to the bed. He silently pled with her through a blood-tinged gaze. The stench of stale ale, pine, honey suckle, and the hint of sex slapped its way into her nostrils. He attempted to grab her hands, but she snatched them out of his reach. There was no need for him to hold her hand as he finished breaking her down in ways Ivar neglected.

"I've made a mistake," his hoarse voice met her ears in a broken whisper. "I'm uncertain how it happen. I was minded to come here...to be with you. Yet, somehow while deep in my cups I entered matrimony with the Sami Princess."

Her vision blurred. The ashes in her chest swirled about aimless in their actions. "There are no mistakes in life only different routes and paths to a single destination. I'm not angry with you, because it's not your fault. We don't get to choose our fates." She attempted to remove his sacred arm ring and the precious metal singed the pads of her fingers. What she'd once been honored to wear now felt more like a shackle. Enjoy the leash Bennett. Silas' words floated back to her. "Bjorn, it's time we renounced our vow."

"I still want you to be my wife. Can you not accept Princess Snaefrid as you were willing to accept Torvi?" His hand went to clasp the medallion that still had a lock of her hair entwined through it.

"No," She looked at him as if he'd suggested they enter marriage with a wildebeest. "Because I wasn't merely accepting Torvi, I'm in love with her, with you, and those kids. I wanted the future we all could've had together, but once again fate had her way and proved we weren't meant to be." She stared down at the charred tips of her fingers. "And I for one am exhausted from trying to force something that's never gonna happen. Aren't you?"

"Occasionally," he admitted as his sad stricken gaze dropped to his hands.

"You have to let me go, Bjorn," she said as she mentally laid the Bonnie of six years ago to rest in the pieces the Lothbrok's had left her. "Release me from our sacred oath. I wish to leave these shores and meet my fate by my own means."

He studied his hands for several moments before glancing back at her. "Very well, I agree to renounce my vow, but only after the battle with King Harald and Ivar is behind us." She opened her mouth to argue, but he raised his hand. "If I can utilize our vow a final time to spare Kattegat then this is what must be done."

She nodded once and then left the bed. In silence she donned the clothing she'd called to her. When her cloak was on and hood in place she took her leave of the cabin without saying a word to Bjorn. She feared to do so would make him a witness to the ocean of pain which now flooded her to drowning on a daily basis. Without committing to a general direction she ran blindly through the forest.

Several minutes into her sprint, she slammed into a wide structure with the same concrete consistency as a brick wall. Before the impact could knock her backwards an arm clamped around her waist to hold her in place.

"Valkyrie, you must know I never intended to leave you behind," Sigurd's imploring voice met her ears.

She looked up into her Enforcer/Confessor face. He no longer had the look of a boy on the brink of manhood. No, the softness of adolescence was no more. His features now consisted of sharp edges and chiseled lines. He was even more handsome than his father had been. Just staring at him hurt her in the way it hurt her to gaze at Guthrum too long. Sigurd's life had gone on without her. The dam broke. Tears she thought she'd cried to the point of dehydration poured from her eyes and made a saturated mockery of her face. Without a word, Sigurd lifted her into his arms and carried her through the forest.

Soon after he carried her in the cabin they became one in, their cabin. He placed her on her feet and attempted to put the run down keep to rights. A hint of a smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as he nearly bust his ass running from a family of mice.

"Perhaps this was not well plotted," he said as he shook out the bed furs. Plumes of dust and prehistoric cock roaches scurried from the mattress.

This time she did laugh as she allowed her mystical energy to restore the cabin to its former glory and then some. Within moments they stood in a cozy little luxury cottage tucked away in the woods.

"Just one of many things I've missed about you. Now come and unburden yourself." He led her over to the wrought iron king sized bed.

For the next few hours she told him of her time in England. She spoke to him of her love for Ivar and Hvitserk. She described the home they'd built together, the family they became. He scoffed when she told him of Ivar's fuck up with Freydis and appeared stunned when she admitted to seducing the Wessex prince for no other reason than an unshakable lust. When she spoke to him of Ivar fathering a child with the same slave girl the gravity of the situation finally weighed upon him.

"If he's gotten this girl with child then he's done what Ragnar has," Sigurd said as he stared down to where he cuddled her on his chest, "He's forfeited his place at your side."

"And just like that, I become an inheritance to yet another Lothbrok heir." Distaste twisted her mouth. "Perhaps I should take Odin up on his offer to become my mate. He's powerful enough and just the thought of his blood has ruined several pairs of my La Perla's."

"Are you certain this slave girl carries Boneless' child?" Sigurd questioned but she could hear the doubt in his tone.

"Even if I weren't he sure in the hell is." She rolled off of him onto her back to glare at the ceiling. "You should've seen him, Sigurd. The way he held her stomach as she lay upon his chest, it was as if she and that babe were his home in this world." A tear slid from the corner of her eye. "Which could well be true since he was in love with her enough to marry her the first time around. Perhaps like Bjorn and the Sami Princess those two are fated. In which case, everything I'm attempting to do is pointless."

"If that held true then Ubbe and Margrethe would still be bound in matrimony." He rolled unto his stomach so his face hovered over hers. "Yet, Margrethe is back to shoveling muck in the stables and Ubbe...well I'm uncertain of Ubbe's actions as of late."

Her brow scrunched. "Yeah, that's a bit confusing...the, he and Margrethe, part. Honestly, I never knew what Ubbe was up to...even when we were together," she admitted, while gazing up at him. "But, he and Margrethe should still be married."

Sigurd rested his head at the cradle of her breasts. "And these are all things we'll discover the right of after slumber has had its way with us." The pad of his thumb discovered her nipple and began to stroke. Not long after soft snores filled the room.

****

Freydis stroked her bulging belly. A soft smile languished upon her mouth as she pondered how the babe she'd bear would reorder her station. Offer her the demigod her Goddess always vowed would be hers. Ivar the Boneless! He was everything she'd expected and more. Now that the false deity had sought her leave and committed a grievous act of betrayal with his enemies he'd soon turn to her.

The cloth barrier to her harbor dwelling swung to the side. Bragg stalked inside. Distress twisted his face, while provoking him to wring his hands. The immediate burn of annoyance flamed to life within her chest.

"Freydis, we must profess the truth to King Ivar," he demanded as he began to pace the distance of the keep. "This saga you've fashioned has caused us to lose the favor of our Supreme."

Her eyes rolled. The Northmen and their gods. Their supposed Supreme was no more than a woman with a witch's trickery. Her Goddess had long since informed her of the other woman's treachery.

"I know not of what truth you speak," she simpered as she feigned ignorance.

He whirled around to face her. Anger burned within his cedar brown glare. "You know well of what truth I speak, you Saxon whore! The babe you carry is of my flesh, not King Ivar's! For you carried for me the eve he took you in the throne room."

"This is King Ivar's son! I've never lain with you!" She climbed to her feet and a pain shot down her back.

"Lain with me?! Lain with me?!" He stomped forth, closing the distance between them. He snatched her to his chest by the hair at the back of her head. "I entered matrimony with you, you faithless bitch! I should've known better than to ever trust a Saxon." He grabbed her by the face and forced her to meet his glare. "What will you tell him when a fully formed babe is birthed into Midgard any rising now, hmm? How will you explain the robust look of a babe that is several new moons early? You can't...that's why I must tell him. I hope the All-father won't turn away from me for my transgressions against one of his favored descendants."

Another sharp pain ripped through her abdomen. Panic swelled inside of her. She couldn't allow Bragg to ruin everything she and the Goddess had spent the better part of six years attempting to build. Asides, King Ivar would kill them both if he ever became privy of what she'd done to earn his favor. Fear and resolve took control of her. She snatched the dagger from Bragg's belt and slammed the blade to the hilt into his chest. The giant of a man's eyes flared as his grip in her hair tightened. He dragged her down to the floor with him.

The cloth barrier slid to the side and King Ivar entered. He glared down at the two of them. "What is happening?"

"Aide us! He wants to harm the babe," she began to scream. "Please aide us!"

King Ivar yelled for his personal warriors. In an instance the small dwelling was filled with guards attempting to pull her hair free of Bragg's dead man's grip. In the midst of this water gushed from her womb. It appeared as if Bragg indeed had the right of it, the babe would be born several new moons before expected. Which would make her dead husband right again. There was no way King Ivar could be the babe's father.

****

When Sigurd gave himself completely over to slumber, Bonnie took leave of the cabin and returned to her keep. She wanted to spend several hours soaking off last eve and the better part of that rising. Yet, when she arrived home an empty keep isn't what she discovered. Instead, she found the Seer and Ayanna sitting on opposite sides of the sectional side-eying the hell out of each other. Guthrum sat in her favorite chair watching them both with a look too emotionless and expressionless to even be called indifferent.

Her entrance drew all gazes to her. Had she missed something? "Why are you all here?"

"Hmm," Ayanna straightened in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, why am I? One would ponder that kin whose been away for six solstice cycles and nigh five risings into her return would've discovered a path to her only relation's keep for a long awaited reunion."

Her mouth dropped open as she sucked in enough air to sustain an army of the oxygen deprived. "I'm sorry, Ayanna. It wasn't my purpose to ignore you. I've been going through some things, my return hasn't been a happy one."

"You've suffered for naught." The Seer snapped from his end of the sectional. "This you would've known if you'd thought to call upon me."

"No my suffering is definitely legitimate. I have no need of your third eye to sight the obvious." She walked further into the room. Guthrum stood from her favored chair and helped her into the seat.