"Where's my baby?" Freydis shrieked. She'd awoken to discover her son missing. Before the verity of such a loss fully burdened her mind, fear clenched her heart. The emotion spurned her judgement and offered leave to her tongue. Now she glared at her husband, the only man bold and fool enough to separate her from her son. "You've taken him, I know you've taken him. So please, just tell me where...where is he?"

She'd fallen into slumber with her son resting upon her breast only to awaken with him no longer in her arms. Although everyone in the long house claimed to not know the whereabouts of her babe, she knew far beyond a certainty who did. Her husband—Ivar the Boneless! Only he could move about the hall with her babe unquestioned. Her glare further slitted as she glowered down at him.

Ivar sat upon the edge of their mattress with a chalice in hand and tankard near. He barely spared her the benefit of a glance as he attempted to seek out his comforts in the bottom of his cup. "You need not worry about your son. You shall join him soon enough. On this you may rest assured, Freydis queen no more."

"What have you done with our son?" Snatching the near empty tankard from the table she slung the pitcher at him and doused him in the remaining sour ale.

The stone jug which nigh slammed into his head, instead collided with the wall at his back and shattered upon impact. His narrowed stare swung to the broken shards of hardened clay which lay in a pile upon the floor.

Rage seeped from him to thicken the air as his glare darted back to regard her. "You say our son, but was he truly ours, hmm? For the babe had the face of a beast. Perhaps like Margrethe you too favored coupling with wildlings."

"Well if you believe him to have the face of a beast then he must be yours. For you are a beast and this is a verity that every citizen in Kattegat knows to be true," she hissed.

He laughed though his eyes burned with an emotion more potent than gaiety. "Maybe what everyone speaks of you is true as well. Perhaps you are the emissary of evil. For whom else is capable of birthing a babe into Midgard that horrendous if not an emissary of evil?"

Unable to continue listening to the muck pouring from his mouth she snatched an eating dagger from the platter which had lingered on the personal dining table since first meal. She gathered her skirts about her knees, climbed upon the bed to straddle him and pressed the point of the blade to his gullet.

"If you do not favor greeting your subjects by way of your neck, then you'll speak to me of where you've misplaced my son and you'll do so with haste!"

He leaned in to the point of the dagger, provoking blood to pool at the sharpened tip. "You are to blame for everything which has managed to slip through the splits of my fingers. And my failures are far greater than the mislaid whereabouts of your beastly babe."

"I am not to blame for your failures, My King. No!" Freydis spat the title at him as if it were drenched in dung. "For these short comings you only have your boneless prick to blame." She growled through the slits of her teeth. "Had you been a real man we could've begat our son by natural means, then perhaps he wouldn't have been afflicted with your..." A laugh tumbled from her mouth even as a smirk perched upon her lips, "divine nature."

Taking her unawares, the back of his hand struck the side of her face. The eating dagger flew from her grasp as he fisted her hair in an iron grip and snatched her head backwards. "Do you take me for one who lacks wits, Freydis?" He tugged harder and her delicate locks felt as if they had a mind to take leave of her scalp. "I know the babe you attempted to hoist upon me is the issue of another. He was not divine, he was not beautiful, nor was he the son of a god!" As he hissed at her through the slits of his teeth something warm and wet rolled down the nape of her neck.

She attempted to rasp out a denial. Yet each time she opened her mouth the pull at the back of her head increased in force. "I should deliver you to your end and be done with all of your treachery." His grasp in her hair further tightened until the bones in her gullet felt as if they would snap. "Yet I don't believe I'll allow you to greet your end just yet." Unexpectedly, but blessedly so, he released his hold on her, and then smoothed her hair from her face. "For an end is a peace you do not deserve. No, first you must suffer for the wrongs you've committed against Fate when you pulled me away from my path. And suffer, my dear Freydis, you shall."

****

Harald assisted another one of his warriors to shore. Anger torched his chest. He'd heeded Ironside's tale of Ragnar. Like a naïve babe, he'd believed Bjorn when he spoke of his father's assurance of their safe passage to Norway during times when storms wrought the seas. What a fool he'd been to attend the word of a dead man! For they'd barely crossed the ocean without greeting its bottom. Now their they were broken and destitute upon a shore which could possibly be foreign to them. Bjorn moved pass him. Weapons and such from the ships filled his arms. Just the sight of him slitted Harald's eyes. He carried himself as if he were a king, while his warriors treated him as a god. It was Ragnar all over again.

"Do you know upon which shores we've landed?" He questioned attempting to keep his anger from entering his voice.

"I'm not certain." Ironside paused in placing their reserves upon the shore to stare up at the cliffs. "Yet those mountains there look familiar."

The loathing he'd managed to bury under half-hearted camaraderie surged to the surface. "I told you we should've waited until the elements became favorable, but no! You wouldn't hear of it...you insisted we sail!" He stalked forward, while his hand sought the comforting grip of his sword. "Well hear this, Ironside. If our Supreme is harmed beyond what she's already suffered because of this foolish act you've coerced us all into committing, I shall rip the bowels from your body with nothing more than my two hands."

"Bonnie," Ironside growled from the tight clench of his teeth as he closed the distance between them, "Is no concern of yours and you're the foolish one if you believe she'd ever enter into matrimony with you."

Bjorn's words snatched his eyes narrow. "What care do you have for with whom Bonnie enters into matrimony? Are you not already wedded to Gunnhild or have you already misplaced this verity in your addled mind?"

"It matters not to whom I'm wedded." Ironside stalked even closer until he towered over him. "Bonnie will always choose me over any other." Arrogance took possession of his mouth and twisted his lips into a taunting smirk. "Especially if I'm placed next to the likes of you, King Harald."

He glared up at the younger man. Bitterness gnawed at his pride. Ironside was everything he hated but wanted to be. Harald had also felt the same way about his father before him. "There's nothing special about you. No matter how favored you believe yourself to be by the gods." He returned Bjorn's smirk with a mocking one of his own. "Asides, our Supreme proved as much when she chose to enter into matrimony with my brother over you." He yanked his sword from its sheath. "And I shall prove it again this rising when I show one and all your head will roll just like any other man's."

Ironside snatched his sword from his waist and they crossed blades. For the next few grains of sand from the hour glass they fought. As the match swelled to the pinnacle of blood worthy another blade entered into the clash of steel to knock both of theirs away. Before they could resume their fight to the death Gunnhild stepped between them. She brought her palm flat against Ironside's cheek, and then turned to glower at him.

"Your fight is with Ivar for the liberation of Kattegat and our Supreme," she hissed, swinging her head between them both. "Once this is done, if you two still have a mind to see the other to his glory in Valhalla then that is your right as warriors. Yet for now, you will sheath your swords and resume assisting the rest of us in rallying our remaining resources."

With that said, she spun about and reentered the ocean to fish out more of their reserves. Bjorn and he cast shame filled eyes at the other as they dipped their heads in a silent apology. After grasping each other's forearms they set about assisting their warriors in salvaging there stores.

****

Ivar entered his private quarters leaning heavily on his iron crutch. His legs ached in a way they hadn't in a long while. Not since Bonnie healed him so many summers ago. Her act of kindness had gifted him with many Solstice Cycles without pain. Those risings, however, were no more. For he'd felt the moment her sorcery turned against him and fled his legs. His limbs now ached from rising to eve. They ached in a way which heralded an impending break. Yet he had no where to place the blame but with himself...and perhaps Freydis. Had he known she'd inflict so much disaster upon their lives he would've sacrificed her as he was first minded to do all those summers ago back in York.

Inside his personal quarters he discovered Freydis standing at the household altar. She fussed about with bones which appeared to be that of a chicken. Upon hearing him enter she turned to regard him with a loathing glare.

"Hunters found our son this morn," Freydis said. A slight tremble shook her normally steadfast voice. "Or perhaps, part of our boy. You see they were hunting foxes when they came upon what was left of him." She gestured towards the chicken bones neatly arranged on the altar. "Do you think his heart burst with fear right before they tore him apart? I hoped this is so...I pray...it is so. For it would ease my mind to know he did not suffer."

"I wouldn't distress myself with such thoughts were I you. Those look to be the bones of a chicken and not that of a swine." He chortled as he limped over to the dining table to pour himself a chalice of ale. "But if you do have the right of it, then you may rest assured knowing the frost more than not took your son before the foxes made a meal of him."

The tears which flooded her stare burst from her eyes. "How could I have ever believed you to be more than you are? Even after everything I've done for yo-,"

"Done for me!" He hurled the tankard of ale at the altar. Everything upon the elevated bench crashed to the ground, including her precious chicken bones. "Do tell, what have you done for me, Freydis hmm? For ever since you've slithered your way into my life Midgard has not been the same." Ignoring him she dropped to her knees to gather the remains she believed to be her babe. "Because of you, everything I love and cherish no longer loves nor cherishes me."

When she continued to ignore him he stalked across the room and snatched her from the floor by her throat.

"Husband," she gasped, while clawing at his hand. "Please."

"Were any of the babes you carried truly for me?" He peered into her eyes and within the depths of them the truth mocked him. His mind spun in his head. "Am I even a god?" Disdaining satisfaction burned bright in her gaze along with more truth. "You lied to me." Stunned, he shoved her from him as he attempted to shoulder the burden of such a revelation. "It's just as the Seer said it would be. I placed my belief in you and instead of a god you've made me a fool."

****

Guthrum's mind once again reached for Bonnie's as he marched along the pathway which led to Kattegat. Once more her thoughts and emotions remained closed to him. He glanced into the heavens at Morgana who soared above their advancing army. Should he write Bonnie another letter? Over the course of two moon cycles since arriving upon the shores of Norway he'd written her countless times, but he received not even a sentence of a reply in return. Instead, she'd closed her emotions and ignored him. This pained him more than a dull blade to the chest. For he felt closer to her when the sea separated them than when only a forest maintained their distance.

"Love and hatred for her dwelled within me all at once," Hvitserk said without urging. The Berserker marched next to him, his eyes trained on the path before them. "She'd broken our bond, wedded someone else, and returned to me heavy with another's babe...or so I believed." Guthrum remained silent and allowed Hvitserk to unburden his mind. "Just the sight of her was a betrayal to all she'd vowed to me in England...to what we both witnessed our shared future to be. Rage and jealousy consumed me, they ordered my steps and influenced my decisions. Have you ever been so incited by emotions you turn your face from what you know you shouldn't?"

"No," he answered truthfully.

"You're summers are few and the scent of breastmilk still lingers upon your tongue. In time you'll come to know of what I speak." Hvitserk continued on next to him in silence for a while before speaking again. "My loathing of Bonnie nigh destroyed me. If not for Thora I would've drunk and fucked myself to a shameful end."

Guthrum turned to regard the side of his face. "Thora?"

"My wife," Hvitserk answered. "Though I loved her from the moment I saw her, my resentment for Bonnie refused to fade. This is why I didn't lend my sword in her defense when she begged it of me," he paused to cast his gaze out over the sea, "and the decision to do so has become my biggest regret."

Though Guthrum had heard the tale from Ayana and Ingrid before, he needed to hear Hvitserk speak of what led to Bonnie's babe being birthed into Midgard still. "What happened?"

"Freydis." Hvitserk tore his gaze from the sea to consider their path. "When we seized Bonnie, she was in weakened state. A state which only grew over the passing risings. Freydis knew as such and she took advantage of the opportunity." The muscle in his jaw twitched. "For when Bonnie advanced in her confinement Freydis sent several of her personal warriors for Bonnie's head and that of her babe."

His hands clenched at his sides. How could Hvitserk, Bonnie's mate and Sentinel, allow such an act against her to be committed? "Is this why you've gathered an army to overthrow Ivar, because you mean to win favor with Bonnie?"

"No." Hvitserk stare narrowed a bit as his head swung about to convey his denial. "For I'd be witless to believe Bonnie would ever discover favor in me again. I do this for the citizens of Kattegat. People like my wife who deserves more than the rule Ivar offered them." His shoulders rose and fell. "And perhaps in doing so I'll earn a bit of redemption along the way."

Guthrum retrained his gaze upon the path. The loathing he bore for Ivar nigh buckled him and rivaled the bitterness Hvitserk's close proximity placed upon his tongue. They'd failed Bonnie. Fate had chosen them for her and they'd both failed her. Each of them dishonored her in ways even her sworn enemy had never managed. She deserved more than the likes of them and he meant to offer it all to her.

****

Ubbe found himself. He'd found himself within the woman he'd lost his heart to so long ago. As he moved in and out of her, the sopping wet clench of her sheath ensnared his awareness. Her moans serenaded him on his journey to his end. Her flowered scent drowned him within an ocean of both of their needs. Their hands grasped, their fingers tangled and their bodies moved together in a merger so beneficial, two fused into one. Gods he loved her...

"Ubbe," Torvi's gentle tone tore him from his thoughts. "Three thousand Danes have settled upon the land in East Anglia. You've given life to Ragnar's dream."

"This is good," he uttered.

The corners of his mouth lifted even as his mind's eye coveted the vision of undiluted ecstasy wreaking havoc on Bonnie's face and body. He cleared his throat as he forced his thoughts from his Supreme...his Valkyrie...to his father and his beliefs. He no longer felt like a Christian, and the cross upon his chest held no significant meaning to him.

His wife cradled his face in her hands and peered down into his eyes. "Leave us," she demanded to the nuns kneeling at the foot of their bed in prayer. When the women sought leave of their personal quarters, she joined him on the mattress. "What is troubling you, Ubbe?"

"Bring me my sacred arm ring." He struggled to an upright position ignoring the looks she cast upon him. She donned the furrowed brows expression one often bestowed upon those with senseless minds.

After a moment longer of staring she nodded before leaving the bed to do his bidding. He removed the cross from his neck to stare down at the gilded symbol which represented his now faith. Since being baptized into Christianity he'd never felt a connection to the religion. Not the way the English did.

Torvi returned a short while later and placed the arm ring next to the cross in his lap. "What is this about, Ubbe? What has happened?"

"The final time King Frodo knocked me low my end awaited me...alone." He lifted the cross and the sacred arm ring from his thighs. "No angels lingered about to carry me away to heaven nor did any Valkyries split the heavens wide with their flying steed to claim me for Valhalla. There was nothing. Nothing but...her."

Torvi's pale brows collided. "Her?"

"As death thought to take me my essence cried out to the Mother of all and Bonnie answered," his stare drifted from his wife's to consider the air before him. "I saw her face and..." he thought of their encounter and his prick swelled within his trousers as his grip tightened around the relics in his hands. "Felt her. She's the one who filled me with strength...who filled me with enough of her mystical energy to heal me, so I could in turn defeat King Frodo."

"Bonnie?" Torvi's wide eyes flooded as she grasped his wrist.

He tossed the Christian symbol unto the mattress. "I no longer feel a connection to this cross. In truth I never did."

"What does this mean?" Her stare darted from the cross to him. "For us...in this land?"

He palmed her cheek and threaded his fingers in her hair. "I now know Bonnie to be more than the girl my family nurtured or the girl who spurned me. Bonnie is the Supreme of all supernaturals and I embrace her as my Most High. The time has come for us to seek our leave of this place and journey home...home to Kattegat."

****

Bonnie placed a sleeping Wilbur back in his crib, and then turned to Ingrid. "Have you yet sent word to the king of Ringerike?"

"Yes." The girl's cloaked head dipped. "A faithful set sail last rising with your message, that the king and his wife attend you here in Kattegat by the next new moon."

The corners of Bonnie's mouth traveled south as she forced down the sadness which bubbled just beneath her forced calm. She distracted herself by changing the subject. "Ingrid, why do you cover yourself? I don't mean to be rude and if you don't wanna tell me, then say it's none of my fucking business. I won't mind."