Bonnie entered the enclosure behind the waterfall in her sacred cove. A shit ton of unresolved emotions bore down on her. Unresolved emotions she'd not yet prepared herself to confront. Hvitserk's hobo journey through all his would'ves, could'ves, and should'ves trashed the hell out of her decided mind. His little do over tour forced her to question herself. To question her actions. Would Faith had lived if she'd chosen better? There was so many moments she'd change if time ran her a second chance. For only the Goddess knew how deep her guilt ran when it came to her baby girl. And Hvits wanted to know if she could forgive him! How could she?

"Valkyrie," Ubbe's voice yanked her from under her mental burdens. In fact the heated press of his iron like frame snatched her damn brain. Bonnie burrowed into his tight embrace, while discarding her troubles on the cavern floor. "What has happened? Is Hvitserk well? Shall I come to you?"

"All's well." She pulled her forehead from his chest to meet his stare. A sigh crept from her lips as she endeavored to put herself back together. "How're preparations going with your voyage? Are you and the others ready to sail?"

"As soon as the weather warms we'll sail," he assured, while narrowed slits of blue moved over her face.

"No, go now!" She pressed a palm to the center of his chest and placed the other to his cheek. "If you wait until spring, you'll miss the man who's taken to calling himself Athelstan."

His stare and nostrils flared. "Athelstan?"

"It doesn't matter what he calls himself," she assured. "He's the man who's gonna lead you to my birth land."

Ubbe's jaw unhinged and his mouth hung wide. An entire universe worth of stars bespeckled and spangled his stare. Wonder lit his face for a pound of the heart. Then suspicion dimmed the glow and cast shadows over his features.

"How long?" He demanded. She pitched her gaze away, and his hold on her tightened. "Valkyrie, how long will we be parted this time?"

"I don't know...it could be solstice cycles," she uttered, attempting to ignore the searing burn of another part of herself being torn away.

His eyes squeezed closed as agony twisted and scrunched his breath snatching features. "So I'm to suffer more summers without you." His inquiry hit more like a foretelling than a question.

"I'm sorry," she offered not knowing what else to say. One wrong spoken word between them, or heart kept secret told had the power to reduce her to nothing more than a puddle. "But you have the means to pull me to you any time you're in need of me...which I can only hope is often."

His sky blue gaze flared open. A flood of missed opportunities and everlasting regrets dampened his stare. "Do you have words for Guthrum or Ayanna?"

Bonnie had said her goodbye's to Guthrum, anything more would have to wait until they reunited. Her foremother on the other hand knew how much she'd be missed and farewells between them were pointless.

Bonnie shook her head. "You, however, should heed Guthrum's counsel. For his guidance will save you all." Especially Asa.

****

As soon as Bonnie awakened she sensed Hvitserk's absence. Pulling her face from the damp pillow, she rolled over hoping she'd misjudged her intuition. The empty space on the mattress informed her foresight remained 20/10 ASCO approved. Disbelief yoked her upright. The temperature outside plunged two degrees away from being a fucking nuclear winter. What the hell was so important he'd risk his kibble and bits to engage in a pissing contest with Jack Frost? Her stare slitted. What was so important indeed! She knew like hell Hvits did not hop off the wagon to go on a mushroom binge! After all the shit they'd encountered while digging his sobriety out the mud. He had her all the way fucked up.

Bonnie wrenched herself free of the bed furs and shoved her feet in a pair of Timbs. Once she shrugged on her jacket she hurried out the door. Outside, the cold slapped slob and fire from her. Every muscle in her body froze as if she'd been side-eyed by Medusa. Her heart slammed her rib cage. Hvits chances for survival further plummeted on her scale of, How Fucked is the Ex? Pulling her coat closed, she allowed Expression to lead her to their fave. Ten minutes after trudging through ankle deep snow she stumbled upon a mound with bare limbs sprouting from the heap. A clump of tangled struggle braids adorned the oddly built iceman. Her glare rolled. Hvitserk! Five minutes longer and she would've missed him altogether.

Relief and Hel bred fury fucked wild and reckless in her head, blending together until she couldn't tell one emotion from the other. Beyond pressed she dropped down next to Hvits. He lay there with his eyes closed, while his chest barely rose and fell. Frost clung to his brows and turned him so white he appeared translucent. Not squandering any more time, she served Hvitserk the five finger and palm special...twice.

After the second slap his lids fluttered for several slow as shit moments before his eyes opened. Confusion brimmed from his sockets as his stare darted over her face. "H-Hjarta?"

"Hvits, did you roll out of bed and fall on your damn head?" She hissed, while pushing piles of snow from his body. "You damn near killed yourself trying to dive off the wagon! Is a mushroom trip worth more than your next breath?"

"I d-didn't come here to s-seek out m-mushrooms," he said, pushing her hands away.

Disbelief forced her brows to her widow's peak. Drugs really did chew holes in the brain. Especially if he believe she'd shovel the shit spouting from his mouth. "Save those tired ass lies for Amma and the simple minded, Hvits. Why else would you come out here in the middle of an end of time blizzard if not to chase the sky?"

"I've not sp-spoken f-false," he stammered through chattering teeth as his stare shifted from hers. "I'm not here to gorge on mushrooms. The mind stupor only offers a moment of respite. I mean to have an eternity."

She settled back to rest her butt on her heels while endeavoring to filch the meaning from his words. Her gaze traveled over him as she totaled out 1+1. His slumped shoulders, down cast face, and hollow tone triggered her inner alarms. Flashing red lights assaulted her mind's eye, while whining siren damn near blew out her ears from the inside. Yep, red alert protocol had been initiated. Her vision blurred as clarity stomped the hell out of her common sense. She gave her mind a mental shake. No. He couldn't mean to...

"Hvits..."

Clear drops dripped from his down turned face onto his bare thighs. Bare thighs? The sight and the significance of said sight cocked her head sideways. Her brows attempted to become one. She knew like hell he hadn't limped his deranged ass out into a snowstorm butt clapping naked! Goddess, she could only bear so much foolishness at a time.

"Leave me, Hjarta. For you and I both know I deserve far worse." A chortle void of humor burst from his mouth. "It's a ponder I even dared to plead for your forgiveness."

"You are un-fucking-believable!" Anger came close to tearing her a better one as she grabbed a hand full of snow, and then tossed the clumps of ice in his face. "So because I refused you my forgiveness, you mean to gut me more than you already have?" She yanked his head up by the hair to lock glares with her. "Oh no, Loverboy. You don't get to fuck me twice from different angles and then pass it off as a whirlwind romance. Now. Get. Up!"

A hint of ultra-blue sparked his Lothbrok glare. "How can I subsist like this? Bearing the burden of what I've done, while suffering the chill of your indifference."

"You'll subsist as any other condemned person who's obliged to atone. For peace belongs to the innocent not the guilty," she climbed to her feet, and then held out her hand to him, "never the guilty."

He studied her face for a moment, and then his gaze moved to her hand. After several seconds, he placed his palm in hers and stood. Together they trekked their way back to the cabin.

****

Bjorn marched through the darkened pathways that led to the docks. As he followed the directions his personal guards provided, his mind rested with the many defeats he'd suffered over the past two moons. His mother...his throne...his mystical one. They were all lost to him in a kindling of an eye. Though regrettable he no longer had the comfort to languish in his failures. War would soon trouble his shores. For the sake of his kingdom he couldn't continue to be seen as pathetic before the sight of his people. No! Time had come for him to rise above his discontentment. To strive to not only be a better king, but to also be a better man than his father.

A spattering of grains through the hour glass later Bjorn stood before a small dwelling not far from the harbor. He entered the keep without announcing himself to discover his wife writhing and mewling under the ministrations of her handmaidens fingers and tongue. She tossed her head about, while clawing at the bed furs. Such show of desire ignited his own, but he held himself in place, content to scrutinize their unnatural deeds until one or both noticed his presence. Gunnhild became aware of him first. Her eyes bulged several breadths from her head as she attempted to pull her handmaidens face from her muff. Bewilderment and annoyance cavorted together on the girl's sap slickened face.

"Gunnhild, what's happ-," the girl's words slowed to none as she tracked Gunnhild's stricken stare to his.

The strange etchings on her face glowed. In a swift move she placed herself at his wife's side, all while pulling the bed furs over their bared forms as she went. "You should seek out your leave while you still have legs to do so, My King," she hissed with disdain twisting the corner of her mouth.

"Ingrid!" Gunnhild said as her gaze swept from him to her handmaiden and back. "To threaten your king is to dishonor-,"

"I'll have my leave after I have my say." He walked closer to the bed, while settling his glare on his wife. "You will return to my bed furs next eve." Both women opened their mouths to speak, but he raised a hand to hold their tongue. "And your handmaiden shall join us in matrimony the first day of Frigg this impending Spring."

"Never shall I-," Ingrid began.

"Oh yes you shall!" he forced from the clench of his teeth as he snatched his stare from Gunnhild to lock glares with the girl. "For if you refuse I shall have you both bound and brought to the Great Hall for judgement." He then turn back to regard his wife. "Me being the pathetic fool and cuckhold before the sight of my people has met its end! Either I have your agreement in this or I'll have her spine and your banishment."

Gunnhild's scrutiny traveled over his face, and then her shoulders slumped as her head bobbed. "You have our agreement."

"What?!" Her handmaiden's head swung about to glower at her. "He cannot banish you-,"

Gunnhild looked to the girl. "I have not a care for me, I'll not see you blood eagled!" She tore her stare from her handmaiden to look to him. "You have our vow, Bjorn."

Bjorn inclined his head, before turning to seek out his leave. After taking Gunnhild in hand, he made his way back to the long house with his mind full. What had he done? When he sought out his wife he had no intention of ordering Gunnhild's bed slave to enter into matrimony with them. Yet he also had not the fortitude to release Gunnhild from their vows. Why would he? He refused to allow her to cleave to the happiness he'd been denied. No, his misery deserved companionship, did it not?

He entered the long house to discover Ubbe awaiting him in the nigh empty great hall. "Ubbe, is all well?"

"All is well." Guilt filled his younger brothers stare as he continued, "But I've come to inform you that Torvi, Guthrum, the children, and I shall be sailing for the Icelandic settlement on the morrow's first tide," he said, while clasping his hands behind his back.

Confusion snatched his brows high on his head. "During the storming moons? Why not sail when the seas begin to warm?"

"Bonnie assures, we'll have safe passage despite the storms," Ubbe said.

"Bonnie?" The name took his chest unawares. "You've spoken to her?"

Ubbe shoulders squared as his chin rose. "I've delayed sailing long enough," he said, ignoring his inquiry of Bonnie. "You asked me to remain during your leave and so I did. Now that you've returned it's time I answer Fate." Bjorn opened his mouth to reason with his younger brother's foolish notions, but Ubbe continued without offering him the opportunity. "The same as you once did before me."

His mouth snapped closed. For he understood the call of one's destiny better than no other. "Then go so you may carry out the Gods' will."

****

Katia stood upon the balcony within her bed chambers gazing down at Ivar the Boneless. He strolled the marketplace alone, which was usually his way when Igor misplaced himself from the fallen king's side. A verity that occurred whenever Oleg's jealousy spun beyond his control. The situation concerning her nephew stood as such that rising. Her dear husband ordered that the boy languish within his rooms alone.

Oleg's pettiness often reminded her of the many striving women who attended her father's court. Unlike Ivar who refused to indulge pettiness under any circumstances. Such differences is what separated a prince from a king. For that purpose among others Ivar the Boneless intrigued her far beyond what many of her ilk deemed as proper. He always appeared so disconnected from the constant maneuvering in the palace. As if he believed himself above the politics, betrayal, and bloodshed.

"Can I trust him?" Oleg's voice drifted to her from the doorway of the balcony.

Without tearing her stare from the him in question she answered, "You can, as long as you and his interests align."

"Hmm," Oleg surrendered his place at the door to come join her on the balcony. Once at her side he placed his hand at the small of her back. "How has my honored guest taken to you, my wife?"

She chuckled a bit, thinking of the many times Ivar's indifference spurned her. "Like a nun to debauchery. He disregards me as he does everyone else who isn't Igor or you."

"Fascinating," he exhaled as he tore his gaze away from her to stare down at the boneless king. "You're the exact likeness of the woman I saw him marry."

Her shoulder rose, and then fell. "Perhaps the woman you've seen in his head isn't the woman who dwells within his heart."

"Hmm," he conceded, "Perhaps..."

****

Hvitserk awoke to a familiar bare form resting upon his. A form he'd not known in quite some time. Had he'd fallen into yet another one of his addled stupors? One of his eyes opened. Though a mass of dark curls hindered his sight, he knew those curls and the weight of the head they rested upon. Just as his manstand recognized the place which now cradled him. An imposing voice whispered from the crevices of his mind. No, this wasn't one of his delusions. For her flowered and divine scent coated his tongue. Each of her soft breaths against his chest thrilled him. While every bit of her warm supple skin swathed him in a way an illusion never could.

Unable to halt himself, he lifted a hand and buried the appendage within the mass of tangled curls. In the way he'd done many morns afore in York and as always, she stirred.

"Hvits," Bonnie murmured into his chest. Her hips shifted and his prick took a slippery slide through the moist clench of her nether lips. A moan tumbled from her mouth. Her nails bit into the skin upon his chest. "Hmm."

Her womanly saps seeped from her slitted muff to drench the entire length of his manstand. The breath pilfering sensation beat at the part of him which boasted of his manhood. Gods, if she shifted just so...

His mind throbbed as if he'd taken a broadax to the head.

Oh but how he missed the squeezing fit of her heated walls. He also yearned for those morns when she languished in his embrace after prolonged periods of coupling. Every piece and part of him dwelled within her hold. She was the only woman to ever truly hold his heart and affections. Thora's face flared before his mind's eye. Guilt tunneled through his chest. Yet his emotions held a truth which could no longer be denied.

"Hjarta," he rasped from the slits of his teeth.

Bonnie's verdant stare flared open at the sound of his voice. When she realized the error of their positions she pulled herself free of his arms, abandoning him and his manstand to the chill of the room. She climbed from the bed, and then snatched one of the bed furs from the mattress to wrap about her impressive form. Once covered, she climbed back on the bed, while pushing her hair from her eyes.

"Hvits, enough is enough," she said, lifting a now oozing wrist to his lips. "Drink and heal yourself of these fucking withdrawals and addiction!" When he only stared in turn the fierceness setting fire to her face wavered. "Please," she finished in a whisper.

"No, Hjarta." He placed a hand over her still dripping wrist, and then lowered the temptation from his mouth. "I'm minded enough to overcome my weaknesses on my own. Asides, my suffering is my judgement. After all the trouble I wrought upon you, Faith, and Thora my sentence is more than just."

Her gaze descended from his. "Hvits, there's something you should know...about Thora." The skin upon his head furrowed as he raised her chin to recapture her stare. "She didn't die in a fire as Freydis claimed."

"What?" He came erect in his place upon the bed. "But-,"

She shook her head and raised a hand. "Her along with my other faithfuls sailed to the Icelandic settlement." Her flooding stare faltered the pounding at his chest. "It doesn't please me to watch you suffer, and I don't believe it would bring comfort to Faith." She gave her head another shake. "It won't bring her back either. Your path is your own, Hvitserk. It always has been. If you choose to join Thora after you've overcome this then know it is your right."

"Thora was a solace to me when Midgard became a place I could no longer understand," he said, while tracing the lines in her palm. "And for that I loved her. Yet she's not the path I choose..."

He allowed the unspoken words to hang between them.

"Hvits," She cleared her gullet, and then released her breath, "The trail your set upon is broken and war torn. If this is indeed the way you choose then your body not only needs to be strong, but your brain needs to be the business as well."

"I won't take your blood," he said with a shake of the head to add girth to his refusal.

"Reconsider!" She uttered in a strained clipped tone. "For you've chosen the path of most resistance, as you often do. So you must be prepared to work...hard. Because for what's coming next, I'll need him." She paused to cradle the side of his neck in her palm as her stare took a piercing turn. "I'll need Lord Hvitserk."

Once again she lifted her bloody wrist to his mouth.