The past two solstice cycles took Ivar through strange lands. He'd seen many wondrous things several times over. For a time the road of silk became his path, while chance ordered his steps. Content in his banishment, he travelled without expectation or motivation. Then Fate stepped in and reclaimed his trek once more. Now he found himself living among the Russ. In a land his gods did not venture over a people they'd once claimed dominion. He believed the customs their odd. Yet in several ways the Russ people reminded him of his own. While in other respects, they couldn't have been more different from his people even if they called themselves Saxons.

A convoluted man with a head constructed of plots ruled over the land. Prince Oleg. The prince had taken Ivar into his palace, while regarding him a favored guest in his kingdom. Oleg drew him in and repelled him all in the same breath. At times Ivar's disdain for the prince crested over loathing. Despite his deep resentment for the man, Ivar still regarded Oleg as a friend. Though their bond buckled under the weight of countless contradictions, their kinship thrived in the presence of their many commonalities. Yet the reflection of himself he saw in the prince often made him gut sick. At times the prince could be nigh insufferable. Especially to those with the misfortune of bearing the burden of his ire. More often than not this weight of contention fell on the back of his nephew Igor. The boy's fear for Oleg was without end. Ivar often discovered himself pondering if that's how his family perceived him.

"Where are your thoughts, my friend?" Prince Oleg asked, while reclining on several silken cushions.

"Where they often are." He offered Oleg a smile born of ease, before returning his gaze back to the hearth. "Revisiting past missteps...fighting failed battles in my mind with improved strategies."

"Hmm, and do you ever find victory in these mental repeats?" Oleg questioned as he placed the rim of his chalice to his mouth.

"Always...every one of them."

"Well you should know, I intend to take another bride to further my advancement in the eastern territories," Oleg said, regarding him from the cut of his eye. "But I must confess I also have other designs."

Ivar tore his gaze from the hearth to look upon the prince full on. "Other designs?"

"Yes." A full teeth grin spread across Oleg's mouth. "I mean to regain hold over Scandinavia." Ivar's eyes flared. "My new bride will come with forces who will aid me in this."

Oleg's revelation took him unawares. "Scandinavia?"

"And I want to name you king," Oleg smirked at him. "A king who will rule how I see fit, of course." Ivar's shoulders sagged under the prince's true meaning. He was to be a puppet king. Oleg tapped his wrist to regain his focus. "But you must assist me."

Ivar's stare narrowed a bit as he searched the prince's expression. "Assist you how? I no longer have any influence in Norway. This you know."

"Of course." Oleg held up his chalice to him in a mock skol. "Yet you are aware of Norway's defenses, yes?"

"Scandinavia is protected, Prince Oleg," his words left his mouth burdened with a wealth of meaning and threat.

"Ahh, the Supreme," the prince offered him yet another smirking grin. The mention of Bonnie slammed air from Ivar's lungs. Pleased with his reaction the prince continued. "A deity more significant than the All-Father himself. I've heard of her." Oleg's dark eyes glittered, while a touch of shrewdness entered his stare. "You fought with the heathen army in England, did you not?" Ivar's back teeth clenched. Oleg new well his position in the great army. Yet Ivar held his tongue and nodded. "Did she really bestow great power upon Odin right there...on the battlefield?"

"Her sorcery is not exaggerated," he admitted.

"I shall like to meet her..." The shrewdness in his eyes took a lustful turn. "Do you ever ponder what it would be like to lie with one such as she?" Ivar's grip tightened on his chalice. Oleg laughed. "Did you know her?"

"We've met once...perhaps twice," he said with all of the ease of the truth.

"Hmm," Oleg turned back to the hearth. "I foresee the melting of the ice shall bring many enticing changes."

****

"Guard up, Hali!" Bonnie bellowed at the boy. The young prince sparred with a warrior two times his size. "Never slacken your defense because you believe your opponent's offense to be lacking. For he only toys with you. Attend him well because he doesn't believe you worthy of an all-out attack." Her gaze shifted between the boys, while they circled each other. "He thinks you weak."

With a battle cry Hali lunged forward. The warrior in question side stepped the young prince's clumsy attack and delivered a half-hearted kick into Hali's backside. The boy hit the grass face first. Bonnie nodded to the warrior who in turn bowed back, before moving on to seek out the watering trough. She kneeled next to Hali.

The prince sat up. He slung his sword and shield to the side. "You distracted me!"

"Did I, Yoda," Bonnie questioned, while joining him on the grass.

"Of course you did," he cut a glittering eye at her before a grin offset the cruel slant of his sneering smile. "Who can fight like a man when his ears is filled with the incessant prattle of a woman?"

"Oh, hell's rockin bells," she said, bumping him with her shoulder. "Well then, I'm sure with all of your fourteen summers of wisdom you can tell me where your misstep occurred."

Somberness drained the amusement from Hali's face as he tore his gaze from hers. "I abandoned the fight to my emotions."

"Right," she agreed as she watched his profile, "and what should you have done instead?"

"Made an ass out of him by turning his assumptions of me around on him," he answered in a contrition burdened tone. "If he thought me weak, then I should've used it to my advantage."

"Yoda, you must never forget your mind is far stronger than your opponent's might," she said, pushing his hair from his eyes. "The moment you do, then you've already lost the fight. Now go tell Gunnhild to conclude training for the rising. Second meal will be served soon."

His cheeks blazed candy apple red at the sound of Gunnhild's name. Without a fare-thee-well, he climbed to his feet and shot off in the queen's direction. Bonnie shook her head as Hali tore at the trail leading to Ingrid and Gunnhild. As she watched the young prince stumble through her message Guthrum crossed her sightline and snaked her attention.

Seeing her beautiful Inquisitor snatched every drop of moisture from her tongue. She leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. Content to just watch him go about his training. He, however, paused the damn show. Angling his head just so, he cast his sapphire blues over his shoulder at her. Bonnie's breath caught. The savage ravenousness twisting in his stare flooded the seat of her battle leathers with an ocean worth of slippery intent.

Without crooking a finger or words of acknowledgement Guthrum continued on in his trek to the forest. Like a sailor ensnared by a siren song tune, Bonnie followed him. How could she not? After the jones he'd sprung on her over the past solstice cycle. She wanted him all the damn time. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and even mystically, it didn't matter every piece and part of her craved every delicious bit of him on every level. Each passing rising only intensified her feelings for him.

As Bonnie entered the forest she lost sight of Guthrum. His trail, however, remained present amongst the grass and fallen leaves. Though fuckstration did the fool on her focus, she pushed through the throbbing below her belt to follow the path he so carelessly left behind. The wind shifted. A hint of his essence drifted under her nostrils from another locus. The corners of her mouth twitched. Oh you clever tease! When she turned in the direction his scent heralded from Morgana's screeching and flapping wings damn near forced her heart from her vagina.

"Morgana, I will literally turn your ass into a stew," She growled, while swatting the predacious bird away. "Be gone clit blocker!"

A downy softness grazed the nape of her neck, while another stroked the hollow of her cheek and kissed the dip behind her collar bone. From the cut of her eye she caught sight of a large white flower petal. Then another until several floated all around her. Bonnie laughed and broke free of the floating petals. She ran down the embankment more than certain Guthrum waited for her at the bottom. As she entered her cove a pair of sinewy arms wrapped around her from behind.

"Found you," she whispered as he begin snatching away her training armor.

He whipped her about in his arms so she faced him. One of his brows perched higher than the other as he stared down at her with eyes that brimmed with fire. "Or did I find you, my Favored Girl?"

"Okay," Bonnie conceded. She tugged his tunic over his head and tossed it to the side, before backing away, "So tell me, Birdseye. Now you've found me what will you do with me?"

With the taunt leveled she finished shrugging out of the rest of her clothes, and then ran into the water. Moments later Guthrum entered. In a few powerful strokes he closed the distance between them. When she floated within his reach, he drew her to him and she wrapped herself around him. In his embrace her lips discovered his. As he gripped her hips, he pressed all of his thickness into her until she was giving him neck in reverse. She gasped into his mouth. Dick so good she could do no more than claw at his shoulders.

In slow dicknotizing cycles he lifted and lowered her onto him, while guiding them from the water. Guthrum barely made it upon shore before he dropped. He settled back on the damp earth with her straddling him. She tightened her grip around his bulging length, all while loving the way he filled her to the crevice. Running her hand over his rock solid abdomen muscles, she rolled her hips. A low wailing groan tore itself free from Guthrum's lips. She leaned forward to take possession of his luscious mouth, and then began to bounce. In attempts to regain lead of their dance, he grabbed her waist to hold her in place. From the bottom, he slammed into her over and over again. Straight compromising the integrity of her back bone. Unable to do anything other than lose her damn mind slow, she released several shrieking moans down his throat.

Guthrum broke there kiss so he could make a hungry man meal out of her breasts. As she tossed her head back to enjoy the feel of him tonguing the hell out of her nipples, she could've sworn she caught sight of Hvits' watching them from the hill. Yet when she squinted for a better look, no one lingered. All too soon she and Guthrum crashed to a hellified end right there on the shore. When she wanted nothing more than sleep, he pulled her under the healing heat of her foaming waterfall. There they washed each other with lazy strokes.

Once done, they rested in the other's arms, each enjoying the comfortable heat of the beginning of Spring's sun. They'd been together for an entire year. She hadn't been deranged in love happy in a long while. As she angled her face upwards to kiss his, she noticed a small smile drenched in sorrow had claimed his mouth.

Her brows buckled. "What's wrong?"

His arms tightened around her. "I shall miss these risings when they're gone."

"Why..." Her gut flipped as her heart took a dive. "W-why would you say that, Guthrum? Why wouldn't we have an eternity of risings like these?"

He stared at her for a moment, before lifting his head to take hold of her lips. After a lingering kiss, he whispered, "Our path is one, but your destiny is divine. A rising will come when you'll choose yestereve over right now. I've accepted this."

"Then be prepared to disappoint yourself, because there's no way I'll ever choose anything over what we share. Nothing could ever mean more to me," she said, glaring down at him. He returned her glare with an indulging stare. Pissed, she slapped his chest. "Do you understand?"

He laughed a bit to himself, before kissing her once more. "Tell me a saga."

She studied his face for a moment, and then asked, "What'd you like to hear?"

"Tell me of Jack and Rose," he uttered as he kissed her forehead, and then her lips, "and the unsinkable ship."

"Guthrum, why do you love that depressing story so?" She demanded still in her feelings over his lack of belief in what they shared.

He pulled her down so her head rested on his chest. "Because no matter the fate which befell them or the life she led after, when all was done in the end she returned to him."

"The day began as any other for Rose," Bonnie began despite the tears which trickled from her eyes.

****

Bjorn stood at the solitude screen gazing into the hall. He watched the festivities there on a whole. Yet his stare always managed to stray back to the keeper of his kingdom, to his advisor, to his mystical one...to Bonnie. She glowed under the attentions of his former stepson. Her smile engaged her eyes, lending her the look of a woman thoroughly loved. He never recalled sighting her so pleased. The verity gladdened him. For she deserved nothing less than happiness for all she offered in return. Knowing, however, his former stepson provoked such pleasure in her also troubled him. Bonnie was meant to be a second mother to the boy, but now she appeared on the brink of being his first young wife. While he, himself, looked old enough to be her father. He shook his head. Where had the summers gone?

He turned away from the screen to discover his mother watching him. "Bjorn, I know you believe Fate has decided upon you and our Supreme, but something greater between you two has always overruled the mistress of tapestries time and again. Were I you I'd not cast my hopes aside just yet." He rolled his gaze away as he replaced himself in the seat at the personal dining table. Hope had become a sentiment too costly for his expectations. "I'll soon be seeking my leave of Kattegat."

"What?" His gaze hurtled back to his mother.

She offered him a hint of a smile. "Ubbe and Torvi agreed to sail me to where our former homestead thrived. Though the exact locus alludes me, I'm more than certain I'll discover a just place to settle."

"What will Kattegat be without Lagertha, the great shieldmaiden?" Grief heaved him forward in his seat.

She laughed, before taking a sip from her chalice. "She shall be what she was before I arrived." A bit of her amusement faded. "How is your wife?"

"Gunnhild is lost to me."

His wife no longer bothered coming to their bed chambers. Not after he'd named Bonnie the leader of Kattegat's defenses. Yet her turning from him didn't cause him any great pain, either. In verity, he wished her well. He never should've entered into matrimony with her. Especially, not when his all was never his to offer.

"You shouldn't harry over missteps you've made." Lagertha reached across the table to cover his hand with hers. "For soon your path will lead to where you've always longed to be, my son."

He tore his stare from his mother to glance back toward the screen as doubts nigh burst his heart wide.

****

Many thoughts troubled Ubbe's mind as he entered the long house. Yet sighting his wife and Valkyrie somewhat settled the churning in his gut. As he crossed the hall, he nodded to many revelers, while exchanging passing words with others. Several grains through the hour glass later, he greeted his wife with a kiss to the side of her neck.

He then turned to place his forehead on Bonnie's. She smiled up at him as she cradled the sides of his face in her palms. "Ubbe," she murmured.

"Supreme," he whispered back, before reluctantly pulling away. "Guthrum, Gunnhild, Ingrid." He dipped his head to the rest of the table, and then moved to fill the vacant seat next to his wife.

"Is all well, Ubbe?" Torvi questioned in a lowered tone.

Ubbe glanced at Bonnie as always she attended Guthrum without suffering any outside distractions. He turned back to his wife and answered, "I just sought leave of Hvitserk."

"And how is he?" Her gaze flicked to Bonnie as well upon hearing his degenerate of a brother's name. "Did he show signs of improvement?"

"No!" He hissed, so purposeful in his disavowal. "He's ghastlier...and still fixated on Bonnie." He chanced another look in Guthrum's and Bonnie's direction before leaning in closer to Torvi and lowering his voice even more so. "As a matter of verity, I came upon him spying on Bonnie and Guthrum coupling in the Cove."

"What?" Torvi screeched, provoking everyone at the table but Guthrum and Bonnie to glance at her. She offered Ingrid and Gunnhild a smile, and then turned back to him. "Did they see him?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't believe so."

"Where was Amma?" Torvi demanded. "Has she not named herself his keeper?"

His shoulders bobbed as he reached for his chalice. "Who can say? However, what I do know is, Hvitserk is beyond being kept or managed." He took a sip from the goblet. "I fear one of these risings he'll travel too far in his drunken mindlessness."

****

Hvitserk snatched his mattress from the wooden frame to sift through the contents underneath. A few rodents scurried from his attentions, leaving behind rotted scraps, moldy cloths, and other useless items of no value. Enraged, he kicked the filth away, and then moved on to the clutter strewn across the shelves in the corner. There had to be something among the whatnots to appease the mushroom peddler.

"Hvitserk, this is madness!" Amma cried after him as she harried his steps. "You must halt in behaving this way. Your actions places shame upon our king."

"Odd, for I believed it you who'd placed yourself upon our king. Has his affections for you changed since his Mystical One's return?" He bit out as he picked through each of the worthless items.

Not discovering anything littering the shelves, he gave in and turned to the door. Perhaps the peddler would allow him, as a son of Ragnar to satisfy his price at another time. A splitting ache tore through his head, nigh dropping him to his knees.

Amma wedged herself between him and the door. "I refuse to allow you to seek out your leave, Hvitserk!"

He opened his mouth to slice her to strips with his tongue, but the pounding in his head pilfered him of words. The All-Father's voice swelled to unbearable levels in his mind. The shieldmaiden's brat has surely grown into a man hasn't he, brother? For who could blow out her back in such a way if not a man? You saw her face! He pleased her in a way you never did. Dry chortles echoed off the walls of his mind.

Infuriated, he shoved Amma from his path and took a stumbling step forth. Darkness took him in hand before he knew the obsidian nothingness had a mind to...