"King Ivar?" Thomas dipped his head in greeting to King Harald, his siblings in arms, and the Frankish soldiers who all stood about the strategizing tent taking note of the rising's battle strategy Ivar had sketched within the sand.

Since Hvitserk hadn't roused that morn to plot the particulars with the warriors and Frankish soldiers the task had fallen to him.

Ivar leveled Thomas with a distracted glance. "What is it, Thomas? Has Hvitserk not yet managed to tear himself from his bed furs, hmm?"

"No, a-and," he cleared his throat before continuing, "there's a woman here who insists he attend her."

"A woman?" Harald barked as he came to stand next to him.

Ivar's back teeth clenched. He longed for the rising when he'd be rid of the foolish king. Since they'd aligned Finehair always managed to be underfoot at the most inopportune moments.

"Yes." Thomas' gaze shifted from him to Harald and back. "She claims to be the only woman he's ever loved. That he in verity would want to cast his gaze upon her."

Harald swung his head about to regard him. "Who is this woman who spouts such claims?"

"Escort her to me, Thomas," he said, attempting to hold his ever dwindling patience with his troublesome ally well in hand. "And do not inform this woman it is me who shall attend her."

Thomas nodded, and then turned to do his bidding.

"Do you believe this to be some sort of trickery on our Supreme's part?" Harald questioned as they both watched Thomas force a path across the teaming camp ground.

Ivar turned back to the warriors who still crouched over his battle strategy, while he considered Harald's question. The thought of the woman cloaked in obscurity being the betrayer of his heart provoked his breath to catch. He cleared his throat. "We shall soon know will we not?"

"If it is her I plan to claim her for Vestfold." A gleam appeared in Harald's glare. The same gleam that often showed when he referred to Bonnie. "The woman is confounding and bothersome. It is my mind to fix both my eyes upon her to ensure she wreaks no further mayhem."

"Hmph." A sneer and a smirk coupled upon his mouth as he attempted to slaughter his unfavored ally by sight alone. "And what shall your wife say to this, hmm? When you attempt to place our vengeful Supreme within your household? You do know her fear of Bonnie is great, do you not?"

"Astrid will be pleased to know I've done this. For I do so not only for the good of my kingdom, but for the whole of Norway," Harald blustered.

He regarded the foolish king for a moment before he continued. "As I have spoken afore, Bonnie is not your concern. Once Kattegat is conquered and Lagertha slaughtered, my former betrothed will be made to answer for her treachery against Hvitserk and I."

"You plan to level a judgement against our Supreme?" Harald barked. Disbelief stretched his eyes wide even as it entwined itself with his tone.

Before being offered the prospect to respond Thomas returned with a figure concealed in a soiled cloak. A stench of dung preceded them by several steps. Harald's face folded itself into an array of wrinkles and furrows. Ivar brought the back of his hand to his nose and mouth. As the pair drew closer he noticed Thomas had a hold of the woman. He more than less hauled her along next to him. Upon reaching them he shoved the figure to the ground a half a pace from their boots. Then he yanked away the hood of her cloak. A familiar muck stained face from his youth met his sight.

"I know you," he said, lifting a finger to her. "You're Ubbe's wife...our former slave. You attempted to poison my brothers and I with your woman's blood."

She swung her head without a care for what resided within. "Not you, never you! I only wanted to be rid of you!"

Harald roared his laughter. Rage tore through Ivar. He snatched his blade from his trousers and closed the distance between he and the former slave. Placing the point of the steel to the hollow of her throat, he attempted to glare into her cowering eyes. "Why are you here? Has Ubbe sent you as a spy or did he order you to appeal to Hvitserk's more..." He dragged the dagger down her throat to the cradle of her breasts, "sentimental nature?"

"Ubbe! No not Ubbe! Fenrir take Ubbe!" She turned her head to spit upon the ground. Yet instead of the earth most of the discarded moisture from her mouth dribbled over her lower lip onto her chin. "I've come because my goddess required I do so."

"The Supreme?" Harald questioned with that ever galling gleam flickering in his gaze.

Doubt gathered Ivar's brows together. "Bonnie ordered you to come here?"

"The dark woman!" The mad slave who appeared to still be possessed by evil spirits descended into another bout of rage. "She is not the Supreme of all supernatural things! She is no more than a witch. No, our true Supreme says if you give her what it is she seeks, then she shall deliver you Kattegat by the time the sun once again meets the sea at the end of this rising."

He and Harald exchanged glances.

"What is it she wants for such an exchange?" Hvitserk's flat tone greeted the back of them.

****

Halfdan lay next to his sleeping wife in a state of wonderment. Bonnie had finally opened her heart to him and along with it her wonderous form. Every bit of her had been worthy of the delay he'd suffered in consummating their matrimonial vows. He'd never known such peace, pleasure, and madness could all dwell within one woman. A woman unlike any other he'd ever encountered. How he wanted nothing more than to offer her everything she'd professed to wanting in those visions so long ago. A home, babes, and husband who'd adore her. Alas, he could offer her none of those things. For this rising on Midgard would be his last.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and rose from the bed furs. After donning his trousers he sought his leave of the tent to sit next to the stream nearby. He allowed his thoughts to drift to his final moments with Naya...

Halfdan stared down at the dark beauty who'd thoroughly besotted him for nigh two Solstice cycles. If only he loved her as she him. His tormented mind and heart would be at ease. His love, however, belonged to another. Unshed tears polished his beautiful vision's dark gaze. He'd lingered on the dock with her for as long as the impending tide cared to allow. Now the moment had come for them to say their final farewells.

"I know your heart dwells on the other side of the sea, Halfdan the Black. But if...but if," Naya's normally sultry tone wavered, "if you seek your leave to meet it, you shall be met with your end as well. In nigh half a solstice cycle you shall fall in battle by your brother's hand."

For a single moment, his heart neglected to pound. "And Bonnie?"

"I know not," she shook her head as the first tear crested down her cheek. "I cannot see her, but your fate is fixed if you depart from this land for those shores."

"And still I must seek out those shores. For I'd rather live but a moment with her in my sight, than a lifetime longing for what could have been." He knew his words wounded her. Yet she needed to understand how deep his affections ran for another. Naya deserved more than he had in him to offer her.

A sad smile pushed at the corners of her mouth as she backed out of his embrace. "You should know, I've never and will never love another the way I have loved you, Halfdan the Black. This shall be the last time we see each other."

****

Bonnie drifted awake from a dreamless slumber. A grin touched her lips. Halfdan's lust for her had consumed her, while igniting something rather hedonistically savage in her. Though she'd never made love to Halfdan, being with him felt familiar. From the way he gripped her body to the way his mouth laid claim to every inch of her skin, they'd danced that danced before. She reached for her husband. Instead of lean hardness soft bed furs met her searching palms. Forcing her eyes open, she sat up and cast her gaze about the tent. A quick glance around his lodgings confirmed she lie alone. Moments later singing drifted to her from the slitted opening of the tent.

Bonnie's heart dropped. For she knew that damn song. She knew it well. Once again war had come calling at Kattegat's shores. She slid from the furs, pulling on a robe as she headed to the opening. A few paces away Halfdan sat cleaning his weapons at the stream. Furrows rumpled his forehead while stress etched lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. As she crossed to the stream, the camp had just begun to stir. When Halfdan noticed her approach a smile graced his face. He continued to sing, while holding a hand out to her. She took it and allowed him to pull her into his lap and cuddle her close.

The vibrations from his chest as he belted out each note soothed her. Warmth bloomed within her lower belly. The sensation radiated throughout her. Taking his palm, she placed it on her stomach. His gaze flared as his smile doubled. A puff of gilded methane blue mystical energy in its infancy wrapped about his hand. A chuckle motivated by undiluted shock burst from her lips. Halfdan's voice faltered.

Bonnie shook her head. "No, don't stop," she mouthed to him.

Halfdan pressed a kiss to her lips, and then resumed his song as he began stroking her belly. Moments later their reprieve of content shattered when Marge Simpson better known as twenty pack a day smoker Harald decided to make it a duet. Halfdan's notes remained strong and persistent. Yet the echo throughout the forest of her brother in law's hoarse baritone put them on notice. Their enemies were at the gates. War no longer loomed as a possibility. Gore and blood shed was imminent. Many would be lost. Perhaps even one she'd only just discovered the sense to hold dear.

Bonnie pulled away from Halfdan's chest to stare into his comforting whiskey brown gaze. Her vision blurred. If Michael Hirst script willed out then she and her husband were in their last moments. The thought alone snatched tears from her eyes. How many times did fate intend to make her say goodbye to him? He rested his forehead on hers as he continued to bellow out the song of his childhood.

When the song ended, he kissed her once more and forced a smile. "Come, let us ready ourselves for battle."

"Make me another vow," she said, cupping his face in her hands.

He turned his face into her palm to press a lingering kiss into the flat of it. "Anything, My Forever Life."

"I know you believe you'll die in battle this rising." He opened his mouth to speak, but she place a hand over it and continued. "That this is your fate, but you must vow to me that you'll not stop fighting despite what you believe your outcome may be. Promise me that you'll not cast your blade aside no matter the reason, and you'll fight for our future together. Swear that you'll battle fate herself in order to deliver on the promise you made to me so many summers ago the eve before we sailed to the Mediterranean. Vow this to me right now, Halfdan the Black!" She yelled grabbing his hair and yanking his head to the side.

He laughed even as a suspicious shine polished his eyes. "I vow it, my beautiful demanding wife! I vow it! I'll never stop fighting for us."

"I love you, Halfdan my husband." He lifted her into his arms and she wrapped herself about him. "Always know that I regret nothing."

****

"Have you truly turned your heart against Bonnie?" Hvitserk questioned as he sat down before Ivar. For he knew how his younger brother loved the treacherous bitch and he needed assurances he'd be willing to cast her down if it meant winning the battle. "Are you willing to run her through if she stands between you and victory?"

Ivar laughed to himself as he scratched his head with the blade he'd only just finished sharpening. "Is this a question you should be inquiring of me or yourself, brother? For I've shown only this morn how far I'm willing to venture to secure my victorious end. Yet what of you, Hvitserk? Are you capable of chopping our little Bonnie into the tiniest of pieces? Will wistfulness halt you from the task of burying parts of her all across Midgard? In verity I ponder if you can truly be trusted to bring about a halt to her fraudulent reign?"

"Hmph," Hvitserk snickered to himself as he raked a leering stare over a few passing shieldmaidens. "I should've known the bit Margrethe said about mother would be what turned you away from the deceitful slag. Of course it wouldn't be her unfaithfulness with the Wessex prince, the breaking of our bonds, or even Halfdan the Black's bastard spawn which infects her womb." Ivar snatched the blade from his head, while attempting to slaughter him with a glare. This only made him laugh harder. "What angers you is she knew of Lagertha's plot to kill mother before she sailed for the Mediterranean and she did nothing to stop her."

"Hold your tongue!" Ivar roared.

He continued to stoke his brother's anger by mocking him. "Your love, isn't that how you refer to her? Well your love is the reason our mother is dead! After she took the whore in, uplifted her before the sight of our people she plunged a blade in our mother's back! And what do you do? You offer to make the duplicitous bitch queen! Even after she allowed herself to be plowed by our father."

"Shut your mouth!" Ivar snatched his ax from his trousers.

"Margrethe attempted to warn us. Yet you cared not! For Your Love helped both of the little boneless Ivar's to stand!" He bellowed even as Ivar placed the blade of his ax to his throat. Blue rage leapt from his brother's glare. Unmoved, Hvitserk grabbed the handle, pressing down until the sharpened edge bit into his skin. Ivar's hands trembled beneath the tight clench of his hold. He laughed as he held his brother's stare. "Finish me, Boneless. For she was the purpose and liberated of her we exist lacking a reason!"

****

Bjorn watched as Halfdan carried Bonnie back into his covering. The joy and contentment on her face proved her to be a woman deeply in love. Such a verity provoked his chest to ache. For now he knew he'd truly have to relinquish his hold on her. He'd have to release her from their vow and this time mean to do so. Unlike before when he'd wagered and won. Yet had he really triumphed? For she'd entered into matrimony with Halfdan that very eve. And he'd been loss and adrift ever since.

"Your heart still belongs to her and her alone, does it not?" Snaefrid questioned from her seat at the cradle of his legs.

He rubbed his cheek against hers. "You knew this to be so when I asked we annul our matrimonial vows the morn after I discovered what we had done."

"Yes, I'm aware. I just believed in time you'd learn to make space in your heart for me as well," she said turning to gaze at him over her shoulder. "For a man as great as you I never expected to claim the whole of your heart. I only ever wanted to possess a bit of it."

Bjorn considered her for a moment. He knew not what words to offer her as a consolation for the words they both knew he would never say. Her father however pardoned him of the task.

"Snaefrid," King Svase called. "It is time we prepared."

She nodded once, before looking to Bjorn once more. "Know that if we manage to discover success in this battle, I'll agree to the annulment of our matrimonial vows."

****

Halfdan sat sharpening his weapons. His mind heavy with the vow he'd made to Bonnie and his heart even heavier from all the love he no longer had time to offer her. She was all he'd ever aspired to have in this life. Now that he held her within his arms fate meant to tear her away from him.

"I heard you singing with your brother this morn," Ironside said as he joined him. "This must be hard for you."

He chortled a bit to himself. Bjorn had not an inkling. "Being on opposite sides of the battlefield as Harald is not hard it is fate. And this I have accepted. What is hard, is making, and then forsaking a vow I already knew myself unable of upholding. Abandoning my wife while she carries my babe for the gates of Valhalla, now that is a challenge I'm discovering myself incapable of overcoming. These things, Ironside..." he paused to swallow the thickness that swelled within his throat, "these things are not only hard, but the burden of such tasks are nigh unbearable." He cast his gaze away when he felt the sting at the corners of his eyes.

"You believe you will fall in battle," Bjorn said, affording him enough respect to pitch his sight to the bustling about the camp while he leaked his emotions.

"Naya warned me of this before we sailed for Kattegat." He tossed his weapons on the table in favor of a cup of ale.

Bjorn dismissed him with a wave of the hand. "Well if Naya foresaw-,"

"I'm not prepared to have leave of my wife, Bjorn," he whispered as he glared down into his cup. "I thought mere moments with her would be enough to sustain me. Yet now that I know the warmth of her regard and the fire of her love..."

"I'm aware, Halfdan," Bjorn uttered in return. "I'm very much aware."

****

"You will hear sounds which may frighten you, but you have my vow no harm will come to you are your mother, little Valkyrie," Sigurd said as he stroked her belly with one hand while making her an offering with the other.

She tore her mouth away from his wrist and healed his wound. "Sigurd, you shouldn't promise her such things."

Sigurd pulled her over him so she straddled his lap. He then shifted her about until the cradle of her good-good discovered the unyielding bulge in his pants. "Why not if it is my mind to uphold the promise?" He thrust upwards to add vehemence to his question.

Her eyes rolled shut as she attempted not to enjoy the giving unto him too much. "Because no one knows what the outcome of this battle is going to be. I refused to allow any of you to go into this with our eyes wide shut. Which goes for me as well."

When he opened his mouth to contradict her she allowed the little sorcery she had to spare to flow into his open orifice. He placed a hand at her hip and began to grind upwards. Pressure built within her clit and at the base of her stomach. Moans and more magic tumbled from her lips into his waiting mouth until her climax forced her over the edge. Sigurd grunted as he gripped more of her ass to bring her down harder on his bulge. She bounced on him as she panted her way through the quivers of her lingering orgasm.

"So this is the nature of the bond you both share?" Halfdan's voice damn near made her touch the ceiling of the tent.

Her gaze collided with his. "This isn't exactly how it looks."

"Was he not making you an offering while in turn you favored him with your sorcery to not only strengthen his tie to you but also strengthen him as well?" Halfdan questioned waving a finger between the two of them. "I take it the burst of pleasure heightens the connection?"

"Y-Yes," Bonnie said, sliding from Sigurd's concrete thighs where his dick still bulged in his lap juiced up and unfulfilled.

Halfdan walked further in the tent and shrugged off his battle armor. "What is the outcome when you both actually couple?"

Sigurd attempted to slide his fingers up her inner thigh. She smacked his hand away. "W-We've never had sex," she assured, though she probably looked like the picture perfect definition of a lie.