Dripping water met Guthrum's ears from somewhere in the distance. English soldiers forced he and his family through a narrow corridor buried underneath the castle. Since reaching the shores of England two risings pass, they'd all been bound in chains. Now they were to be imprisoned until the king of Wessex decided their fate. Heahmund led their procession into confinement. Every so often he glanced over his shoulder and offered them looks of reassurance. More or less he attempted to convey his loyalty. If not to them, then to Lagertha whom still appeared to have faith in his allegiance.

Not long after they'd entered the bowels of the kingdom, the soldiers concluded their trek at a locked door at the end of the passageway. The inside of the large room consisted of four walls made of stone. Loose hay lay strewn over the dirt ground. The stench of piss and dung tainted the air. When his stepfather cast his gaze about their surroundings, his face took on the hue of fresh blood. His veins nigh burst from his forehead and neck. Lagertha settled a pleading eye upon him. The muscle in his jaw twitched, but he held his tongue.

Once the soldiers liberated them of their chains they sought their leave. After Heahmund said a final goodbye to Lagertha he moved to follow the soldiers out, but Guthrum stepped in his path. The Bishop's nose nigh scraped the ceiling of the keep as he tried to stare down the length of it at him.

Unmoved by Heahmund's annoyance he stared back as he drifted closer. "When you seek your leave of this place do you believe you'll attend King Alfred?"

"Yes, it is likely I shall have an audience with the king," Heahmund narrowed his stare upon him. "Why do you ask?"

"When you speak with King Alfred please tell him I have a message from the one you refer to as the Intercessor?" He said, refusing to reveal anymore.

Heahmund's eyes narrowed to nigh closing as he scrutinized him. After a moment of consideration the Bishop inclined his head once, and then spun on his heel to search out his leave. Upon the slamming of the plank door Bjorn gave himself over to his anger. The room on a whole descended into madness. Everyone spoke at once. Well, everyone except Sigurd who'd begun to slam his fists into the cement walls. Guthrum left the rest of his family to ponder the right of their situation and joined Sigurd in the corner.

Without acknowledging his presence the Enforcer/Confessor began to unburden his mind. "What if Bonnie is not safe with Boneless? Ivar is a murdering bastard on any given rising and unfathomable when provoked. Though I know she can't be killed, the same can't be said for her babe." He slammed his clenched hand into the stone once more. The wall shuddered. "I never should've heeded any of your counsel. I should've went back for her."

"That was not Bonnie's will," he insisted in a quiet voice.

Snake in the Eye spun on him. "How can you be so minded? You've only just become one with her!"

"I think it best if she speaks for herself." He tugged one of the letters from his tunic and held it out to his uncle by marriage. "This is for you."

Sigurd took the letter and eyed it with crumpled brows. "What is this?"

"It is her will in her written word." Guthrum turned to give his uncle privacy. A hand on the arm, however, halted his departure.

Sigurd shook his head. "I cannot read this," he uttered.

"She spelled the letter so it would translate to our hand," he assured.

Sigurd's head swung from side to side once more. "I cannot read at all." He held the letter out to him. "Will you read it to me?"

Guthrum nodded before taking the parchment from his grasp and reciting Bonnie's words to him.

My Devoted Savage,

Thank you for deciding to love me, protect me, and become one with me. I've never had anyone choose me first, over all else, and consistently the way you've done since I've arrived upon your shores. No matter my wrongs you always remain ever faithful at my side prepared to eat my sins and slay my demons. So I know my request to be left behind is especially hard on you. You must, however, understand I don't blame you, Sigurd. None of this is your fault. It's no one's fault. This is simply a path I must travel alone for now. Though it tears me apart even as I write this, there's one final thing I need to share. I sense it'll be many solstice cycles until we're reunited.

You have a purpose in England which must be completed. Many of Inadu's followers still infects that land. As my One you are an extension of me. My inferred will that should be enforced by any means necessary when it comes to ridding Midgard of her tainted influence. If we're to claim victory during the last battle, it's imperative you succeed in this endeavor. As much as this pains you, please know it breaks me to lose you when I've only just reclaimed you. Yet I'll carry on because I know each rising I do it'll bring me closer to being back at your side. Until we meet again know my love is with you even when I'm not.

Forever Your One,

Valkyrie

****

Ivar cast his sight over the great hall. Almost out of wont his gaze swept towards the doors every time they opened and someone entered. He told himself this was because he'd meant to remain aware in all instances. Yet something forbidden within disregarded this reasoning. Instead its uttered response claimed he waited. It claimed he waited for...her! Hmm, how wrong this forbidden thing was in its notions. For he'd never wait for her again.

Ivar's stare moved to the beautiful English rose at his side. She'd make a fine queen of Kattegat. Though Freydis held not one attribute over Bonnie, and she often overreached in her ambitions, he'd discovered steadiness in her consistency. After the constant unsureness of loving his Betrayer he now appreciated such things.

His soon to be wife offered him a smile when she noticed he watched her. He returned her smile, and then moved his gaze to Hvitserk who sat drinking with Harald. His brother appeared more engaged with his tankard of ale than his companion, while his ever lingering ally looked to be distracted or perhaps deep in thought.

Before Ivar could consider Harald further the door opened. Soldiers entered. They were his personal warriors whom he'd sent in pursuit of Lagertha's party with the locus Rollo provided. Without delay they marched to him. The people who moved about the hall parted to offer them a path to his throne.

When they reached him, Gram stepped forward to speak. "By the time we arrived the keep was abandoned. Only one remained and she'd been slain by the absconders."

His head tilted as a hint of a smirk dallied with his lips. "She?"

Gram glanced to the warrior to his right and nodded. The soldier turned to seek his leave of the hall and another followed. Confusion buckled his brows as a calloused palm covered his. He glanced over to his betrothed and she offered him a smile. An icy burn flamed his chest. Though the feeling chilled him to his depths, it wasn't altogether displeasing. In verity, it mystified him. It filled him with a dark yearning. He covered her hand with his other. Moments later Gram and the other warrior returned carrying the now dead. The woman appeared to have once been a slave. Not the former usurper queen of Kattegat. They discarded the tattered clad body on the floor before him. An ax protruded from her chest even as her eyes remained wide, fixed, and accusing. Utterances, hisses, and several caught breaths filled the hall.

"Isn't this the woman who spoke to us before the last battle?" Harald rasped, rising from his seat at the long table to gain a closer inspection of the woman.

"Margrethe," Hvitserk slurred without tearing his gaze from the tankard. "I could've loved her once. If a bitch had not bewitched my eyes, heart, and mind."

Ivar's face crumpled. The stench of the wench harried him more in death as it did throughout her meaningless life. He waved a hand and Gram saw to Margrethe's final removal from the halls of Kattegat. After they carried the slave girl out, his scrutiny returned to Harald. The King of Vestfold once more appeared preoccupied with his thoughts.

"King Harald, I'm told by my warriors you've visited with our former Supreme rather often as of late," he said, lifting Freydis' hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.

"Yes," Harald lifted his chin to regard him, "she is my sister by marriage and carries my brother's babe in her womb. Of course I visit with her. Why is this concerning to you?" He demanded as his glare pointedly strayed to Freydis and back to him.

"Hmm." A shell of a smile crested upon his mouth, while frost bit his eyes. "This does not concern me. I only mention this to learn of her present state. Last time I cast my gaze upon her she didn't appear to be well."

"Bonnie is quite well!" Harald barked.

"Bonnie?" A single brow rose to greet his hairline. When had they become so familiar? Harald held his ground, glaring back. Not quite leveling a challenge, yet neither shying away from one. "Hmm, well it pleases me to hear this news. Now I may proceed with my plans." He moved to the edge of his throne and struggled to stand. Once he discovered his footing, he began, "People of Kattegat, it seems you shall have your queen in three eve's time. For Freydis and I shall enter into matrimony upon Frigg's rising."

Reluctant cheers met his news and their perfunctory skols burned his pride. He moved to retake his seat, and Freydis beamed at him. Though she would never claim his heart or desire, she may always rely upon his loyalty. The honor he'd bestow upon her would fill the absence of his love.

For the next few turns of the hour glass he rained his attention upon her. To his surprise he discovered himself thoroughly engaged by her until Gram alerted him to Hvitserk's drunken form stretched out across the long table. His eyes rolled as he pressed a kiss to Freydis' wrist and pulled away. He waved at Gram to wake the drunkard.

Gram stirred Hvitserk with a gentle hand. The slight movement startled his brother so he rolled off the table onto the planked floor. Freydis snickered, but she was the only one who dared to laugh. Hvitserk climbed to his feet, staggering a bit afore discovering a steady footing. Once up he glared at Gram who in turn backed away with his hands raised in a yielding gesture. When Hvitserk reached for his ax, Ivar decided to intercede.

"Leave him and attend me, Hvitserk!" He bellowed effectively pilfering his brothers regard.

Hvitserk whirled in his direction. His eyes flared and narrowed as he attempted to focus on Ivar. "You'd do well to keep your personal warriors away from me, Ivar. For it'd be a pity if I begin to look to them to hold my amusement."

"As of late, it does not take much to hold your amusement, brother." He shrugged as he taunted Hvitserk with a cutting tone and a spite inspired smirk. "A filthy whore, chipped cup, and a tankard of sour ale will keep you engaged well into the next rising."

Hvitserk's laughter swayed his staggering frame from side to side. "While the illusion of power and the pandering of a former slave whose sheath has known the plunge of many pricks appears to yield you the same level of distraction. So if we're aware of the other's amusements, why must we pilfer away grains of sand in the hour glass on the discernable?"

"Bastard!" Freydis hissed.

Hvitserk's shoulders rose and dropped. "Whore."

His betrothed's breath caught as suspicious clearing of throats and coughs moved about the hall. The casting away of knowing gazes around the room wrenched Ivar to the edge of his seat to level his degenerate brother with the full girth of his displeasure. "Hvitserk!"

"Many apologies, Boneless," his brother offered him a bow which held more scorn than contrition. "I believed we were still stating the observable."

"Hvitserk, you think these acts you commit each rising misleads me? No." He goaded, waving a hand at the slovenly mess which had become his brother. "For I know the true reasons for your actions. You're not as indifferent to our betrayer as you would have us all here believe."

A bit of the Berserker flickered in his brother's gaze. "I care not what you believe, Ivar. Just as I have no care you've chosen to enter into matrimony with a once Saxon whore that most here has known many times before better than you...myself included."

Hvitserk's words narrowed his glare further. "You go too far."

"No, this is a course you've set, Brother. I'm merely offering my opinion on the sight." He waved a hand at them. "You've set your heart upon marrying this whore because you believe our former mate still has a care. That seeing you give your vow to another will rip her heart asunder, but you do this all for naught. For she no longer holds any affections for either of us. Unlike you I'm beyond the site of finding this revelation concerning." With that said, he stumbled about, before finally managing to seek his leave of the hall.

"Ivar, I did not offer myself to any of them will-,"

"Freydis, have we not spoken of this before? There'll be no deceptions between you and I." He tore his gaze from the doors of the hall to regard her. "I know of your plight in York before my ships met those shores. There is no cause for you to attempt to place a well fashioned saga in the place of the truth. I'm more than aware of with whom I've chosen to enter into matrimony."

A gleam polished the azure hue of her eyes. "Oh how I want you, King Ivar," she purred.

"And yet you know well that I can't." Annoyance rolled his gaze from hers.

Moments later his finger sunk into an ocean of warm wetness. His gaze darted back to his betrothed. She offered him a smile filled with secret wonders. "Your prick isn't the only thing which pleases me." She began to grind on his hand. "You have a great many other devices at your ready, My Pagan Viking."

"Hmm!" A smirk took possession of his mouth as he stroked the pad of his thumb over the fleshy nub between her netherlips.

****

Bonnie stood at the harbor next to Rollo. They both watched as his soldiers loaded the last of his things onto the ships. When it appeared their time together drew to an end they turned to consider the other. After several long silent moments, he spoke first.

"Had Ragnar brought you down from the mountains, I would've stolen you from him," he murmured, all while straight facing the hell out of her. "You would've called me husband and him brother."

A grin tore through her stunned expression as a memory of her telling Ragnar something along those lines flickered in her head. On impulse she threw herself in his arms, wrapping him in a snug hug. "It would've happened nothing like that, yet you would've still been one of my favorite people," she whispered next to his ear.

"And you mine," he whispered back.

After a minute longer of holding him, she released him, and then backed away. "Thank you for delivering those letters for me. It meant more than you'll ever know."

"Doing so was an honor," he said, then his expression turned hesitant.

She grabbed his hands. "What is it?"

"When I married Gisela, I exchanged my faith for hers. Yet I never truly released our gods." His grip on her hands tightened. "When I pass from this life to the next. It's not her heaven I mean to enter, but the gates of Valhalla I long to see. I know you and the All-Father-,"

She placed a finger over his lips. "Say no more, Rollo. I'm sure Odin would love to see another one of his direct descendants enter the gates of Valhalla. And even if he refuses you, there's always a place for you in Nirvana."

"Why aren't you angry at me as Bjorn and Lagertha? You've lost as much as anyone due to this defeat."

She shook her head as she reached up to stroke his cheek. "We all take turns being the bad guy in someone else's saga. This is something we'll never be able to control. Though what we can ensure is the next time our tale is told we don't commit acts which will cast ourselves as the villain in our own story."

He hugged her once more. "Have a care for yourself and the babe, Supreme."

"Until we meet again, Rollo," she said, stepping out of his embrace a final time.

He dipped his head in a bow, then turned to allow one of his soldiers to assist him on his personal boat. Bonnie stood on the dock staring out at the horizon even after Rollo's ships disappeared from sight. She cradled her baby bump in her palm and damn near pissed her pants when she felt the slightest of flutters in her belly.

"Wait," she murmured as her heart beat a drumline solo against her rib cage, "was that you little girl?"

"So the traitor has finally departed from our-," Harald's words ran the hell out when he looked at her, "What has happened?"

"I think...I th-think I just felt the b-baby move," she managed to sputter between stunned bursts of laughter.

"What?" He rasped in his thirty pack a day smoker's voice. "Let me feel her!" He demanded, pushing her hands away to gently take her small bump in his palms.

"Harald!" she growled, a little annoyed by his bogarding and all around pushiness.

A slight ruffle disturbed the skin between his brows as he glared at her like she'd lied. "I don't feel anything."

"That's because at this stage she's only big enough for me to feel," she said, trying not to take offense of him on general purpose. His stare darted back to her belly. "Don't worry. In a fortnight or so, you'll feel her move too."

He tore his gaze from her stomach once more to stare into her eyes. "Truly?"

"Truly," she said, softening a bit towards him.

They stared at each other for a moment before he spoke again. "Now that you're well Ivar intends to proceed into matrimony with the Saxon. He's set the ritual for this Frigg's rising."

"Then I'll be there in bells and whistles to wish them well," she said, keeping the cement blocks firmly in place around her heart.

His gaze narrowed as his scrutiny crept over her face. "So you have not a care he's choosing to enter into matrimony with another?"

"How can I begrudge him over the very thing I've done?" She questioned.

Yet his marrying Freydis did worry her. His leap over the broom concerned her on fifty-eleven levels. Levels that two stepped far beyond the dull burn of jealousy which flamed her pride. No, the former slave's association with the Hollow offered a shit ton of complications to Bonnie's already rigged to hell plans. What would Ivar's entering into a covenant with Evil's proxy mean for the fate of all supernaturals?

Harald drew her thoughts back to him by stroking circles into the sides of her stomach. Almost as if he sought to make himself her focus. "I've been pondering-,"