Over the passing risings Bonnie kicked Hvitserk's ass down the road of recovery. They battle trained in the mornings and took early walks in the afternoon. The mixed forms of hand to hand combat strengthened his muscles. While their walks in the afternoon did little to strengthen his mind. For almost a month Bonnie and Hvitserk engaged in minimum to no conversation. They each two stepped on egg shells in the other presence. Measuring their words by each falling grain of sand through the hour glass. Neither of them wanted to rock the boat. Their leaky vessel already treaded the turbulent waters of their truce barely staying afloat. Together they coasted until their half rigged dinghy encountered rocks and icebergs. The crash occurred one rising during their walk.

As much as Bonnie wanted to sustain the peace, she knew their silence wouldn't help him. Shackles imprisoned his thoughts. In order to break the mental chains his addictions bound him in, she tossed her reluctance to the side. With a shit ton of doubts she proceeded to brave the inner workings of his mind. She needed to force him to confront certain truths. To revisit past mistakes neither of them had the heart to face. So for the sake of his recovery, she snatched them from their comfort zone.

"Hvits?" She said as they stroll the snow packed trail.

He flinched. "Y-Yes, Hjarta?"

"You've always drunk ale, and maybe even chewed on a few mushrooms during our time in England, but," she kept her gaze on the path ahead not daring to cut an eye at him. "you never over indulged. So what changed?"

He stumbled a bit before recovering his footing. "What changed?" He murmured to himself. "Everything...everything changed. You sought your leave, Ivar's wits took leave of his head, and amongst it all I discovered myself without an anchor. Set adrift in a Midgard of which I wanted no parts."

"So what...you chose to meet your end by taking the long way down?" She pressed her lips together. Damn her question sounded marinated in judgement. "Shit, Hvits, I didn't-,"

"I had to become someone who could loathe you," he shrugged as his stare remained fastened to the pathway. "The ale and mushrooms did as such. They addled my mind until I barely knew myself."

Her head bobbed. "Yeah, but that was at first. When you met Thora you overcame that crutch." Her vision blurred as a familiar sting pricked the corners of her eyes. "You were for her what I needed you to be for me and..."

"Hjarta-,"

The sight of two huge brown bears sliced his words from his tongue. Snatching his broadax from the waist of his trousers, he attempted to shove her behind his back.

She yanked herself free of his hold, and then rounded him. "Hvits, no. I think...I know them."

The bears stood on their hind legs before dropping back to all fours and racing towards her. Hvits not for the shits, hurled his ax at the larger of the two. With a wave of the hand she knocked the hurtling weapon off course. The blade's edged slammed into a tree. She visually damn neared him with an over the shoulder glare.

"Don't do that again, these bears are sacred." Moments after the bears were on her. One bumping it's massive head into her side, while the other gave her two sloppy licks to the side of her face. She laughed, gripping the smaller bear by the sides of its head. "Will and Jada, your all grown up!"

"Hjarta?" Hvits questioned as he slowly moved about them to take in their reunion from different angles. "How've you come to know these beasts?"

For the first time in years she offered Hvits a grin as she scratched Will behind the ear. "Oh, me and these cuties go all the way back to day one. Don't we, Willie Will, don't we?"

"Your warmth bewitches all. From beasts to babes..." Hvits words trickled to a stop. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth even as shadows darkened his stare. "I'm...if I could...I regret..."

Grief twisted her inside out. For she knew the regrets with which he struggled. They were the same regrets which haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Yet neither of them were ready for such a conversation. She doubted they'd ever be.

"Come meet them," she said, holding a hand out to him.

For the rest of the rising she doted on Will and Jada as Hvits became acquainted with them. That rising she caught glimpses of the old Hvits. The affectionate Hvits who offered her stolen kisses and full face grins. The Hvits who knew her beyond the cape she often donned. The same Hvits who once claimed the title of her out of body heart. Her Hvits.

****

For the first time in solstice cycles Hvitserk discovered contentment within himself and the Midgard around him. He no longer feared the voices in his head, the wraiths from his past, or the All Father's judgement. In turn his hankering for mushrooms and ale dwindled to nigh none. The morn's battle training session returned his form to one capable of fighting. His frame no longer stooped as the addled elder warriors did. This somewhat gladdened him. For he had no desire to be regarded as weak and weathered within his Hjarta's sight. For she lit his risings with brilliance.

A blow to the chest knocked him to the ground. His breath burst from his mouth. Moments after Bonnie's frowning face put the ashen heavens to shame. "You're distracted, Hvits! This is the third time I've knocked you on your ass." She offered him a hand to assist him back to his feet. "Pay attention!"

"Apologies, Hjarta," he mumbled as he dusted the snow from the hind quarters of his trousers.

She watched him for a few grains through the hourglass. Upon the conclusion of her inspection some of the fierceness faded from her face. "Is it the cravings?" When he took too long to answer she drove her sword into the ground. "Shit, Hvits...look, let's just call it for the rising."

"No, I can continue," he assured, while bending down to reclaim his weapon.

"Well I can't," she bit back as she whirled about to gather the weapons strewn about the plot of land. Pausing in her tasks, she glimpsed him from the cut of her eye. "You should ready yourself for our walk. The sun is hanging low in the heavens and I wanna be back before eve."

He dipped his head, before depositing the blunted training sword in the trunk at the rear of the cabin. Once he fastened his broad ax to his waist he hurried around to rejoin Bonnie at the front of the keep.

She waited for him near the opening of the splintered fence. She still donned her battle attire, but she'd unbound her hair. The wind now tossed the curls about her head and face. An offense she appeared not to mind. He watched her pull the fur cloak that adorned her shoulders tighter around her. Slight shudders shook her frame. A frown crumpled the skin upon his forehead. The chill upon the wind shouldn't have bothered her. In England he'd once sighted her disrobe during the coldest moon to frolic in a watering hole.

"When was the last time you received an offering?" He demanded, coming to a halt in front of her.

"It's fine." She attempted to dismiss him with a wave of the hand. "Are you ready?"

The skin at the edge of her eyes appeared creased and drawn. Anger slit his stare. "You've not had an offering since we left Kattegat," he accused as his scrutiny moved over her face.

Her eyes rolled as a hiss of air rushed from her mouth. "I said it's fine! Let's go."

"Not until I make you an offering." He pulled a dagger from his trousers and sliced open his wrist. "Here, take what you need."

"I said I'm-,"

Taking advantage of her flapping mouth, he shoved his spurting wrist to her lips. Despite her refusal she latched on while gripping the extremity with both hands to hold his arm in place. Her eyes crossed to regard the other, and then rolled closed. As she suckled his life force from him she released a long dawdling moan which stiffened and lifted his manstand. A familiar urge nigh tore him asunder. A yearning so fiery the longing nigh braised his blood.

The hankering to touch her overwhelmed him until he had to fist his free hand at his side to ensure he didn't succumb to the notion. Yet he couldn't halt himself from pressing his body into hers. Her moans deepened and rose to a smothering wail. Her body writhed against his. Just when he thought to toss his restraint to the side she ripped her mouth away from his wrist. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth.

"Thank you, Hvits," she said between gasping breaths.

He nodded, but he barely heard her over the juddering rise and fall of her breasts or the blood dripping from her succulent lips.

"Sh-Shall we?" He waved his hand towards the open entrance.

She swiped at the blood with a finger, and then sucked the digit clean. Memories of the times her mouth suckled his prick in the same manner filled his head to bursting. Did she even fathom what she did to him? She believed him to suffer with cravings for ale and the such. Yet all he craved was her. It was always her. Nothing could replace her. The Gods all knew of how he'd tried and failed.

She nodded at him once more before she moved ahead of him through the open gates. Together they walked the tread bare path into the forest in silence. For a while they both were content to languish in their own thoughts.

Then as usual his Hjarta began needling him with questions. "How are you feeling this rising?"

Yet instead of him allowing her to pepper him with endless inquiries he asked her one of his own. "Did Bjorn speak the truth?" The words burst from his mouth without the modesty of censor.

"What?" She craned her neck to look at him.

"Is it true he offered you your leave before the first battle of the civil wars?" Hvitserk tore his gaze from the path to regard her. He needed to sight the truth in her stare before it dared cross her lips.

"Of course he would tell you," she muttered in a tone he believed she hadn't meant for him to hear. "Yes, Hvits. Bjorn spoke the truth."

Those words burrowed into his chest and carved out his heart. "Because of the vow."

She watched him for a long moment as pity flickered across her face. "Partly because of the vow, but there was also something more."

"There's always been something more between you and he," he spat the words through the clench of his teeth. "Did you ever care for me...for Ivar?"

She halted mid-step, and then spun on him. "Care for you?! Care for you?! I loved you and Ivar until it damn near finished me! Even after everything you both dragged me through, I'm still here standing for you...fighting for you!"

"But how can you feel for Bjorn the way you do and still claim-,"

"Bjorn was a mistake! A foolish mistake which laid too many of my sons and daughters to rest," She bellowed before turning to stomp down the path. After several steps, she whirled back around, and then marched back to him. "And it's a mistake I still regret to this rising. Had I'd chosen differently, left when he gave me an out...Faith would be here and we'd be..."

Her revelation ignited radiance in the darkest crevices of his mind. All along he'd sought absolution from her over their daughter. Yet there she stood before him unable to forgive herself. An utterance of understanding decimated all he believed to be true. She, he, and, Ivar had broken themselves under the burdens they each insisted on bearing. Before, he couldn't sight pass his own grief to bear witness to her true state. Just as he'd imprisoned himself in his guilt, so had she. Her misgivings bound her tighter than his hankerings ever could.

"Bonnie-," he uttered as he reached for her.

She shook her head, and then jerked her arm from his grasp. Without another word spoken, she turned and stalked back towards the cabin.

****

For the next several risings Bonnie gave Hvitserk fifty-eleven feet in which to move around. It was space they both needed to gather themselves. Their last conversation reunited her with her guilt, grief, and anger. Emotions she'd since reconciled to leave behind, or so she thought. Yet being with Hvits triggered her. His presence, and their talks snatched scabs from not fully healed wounds. The place she'd laid those emotions to rest now hemorrhaged her regrets. Goddess, did she always have to break herself to reassemble someone else?

Hvits continued his battle training and walks without her. Without question he allowed her the space she needed to yank herself back from the sunken place that churned with her darkest emotions. Which served as more of a curse than a blessing. For she'd only discovered misery in her isolation. And since misery thrived in the presence of company she didn't leave Hvits to his own devices for long. Burning the peace treaty between them, she descended upon him while he skinned a rabbit. So into his task, she'd hadn't believed he'd heard her approach.

"How are you, Hjarta?" He asked without looking up from his task.

She ignored his question in favor of going in. "You loved Thora, right?"

"Did you not love Guthrum?"

"I'm not with the shits Hvits," she hissed back. "Answer the damn question!"

His hands stilled in their task as he dropped his head to regard the ground. After a moment of considering the snow packed earth he spoke, "Yes, very much so, but you're already aware of this."

His admission shook her. Her next words vibrated as they crossed her lips. "And did you love me while you loved her?"

He exhaled but nodded once. "Yes."

"And you chose Thora over me and your daughter countless-,"

Hvits bounded from the stool he sat upon so fast the damn thing flipped and landed sideways in the snow. "Make no mistake, I chose Thora over your unending rejection. And while I loved my wife, she never possessed even a trivial piece of my heart. How could she?" He paused to let the question marinate, but not long enough to offer her time to answer. "And as for our daughter, you led everyone to believe the babe was Halfdan's. " He slung the rabbit carcass and dagger to the ground, and then moved to close the distance between them. "And you, better than anyone knows the damage such a canard can wrought. After all it was you who discovered Ivar with Freydis when she was heavy with child."

"Oh, , Hvits!" She bellowed in his face. "You spend so much time chilling on the sidelines it goes over your fucking head when a real play actually calls for you to hit the field!" Pissed beyond being reasoned with, she shoved his chest. The blow didn't even budge him. "You didn't know about Faith because you didn't want to know about her. I know it, you know it, so let's not pretend we didn't both know what it was when I dropped by that rising!" She raised her middle fingers to add quotations to her mocking words, "Even if it does it matters not, I'll just add it to the many regrets I already carry with me." Shame crumpled his face and her eyes slitted to demon possessed proportions. "Yeah, remember that? I do! How can I forget? I'll never forget."

With that spit she marched from the yard towards the forest, hating herself even more for being an asshole by supernature. Her pettiness would surely send Hvitserk back to the pipe, or back to whatever means he used to ingest those damn mushrooms. And then what? His fleeing of the wagon would undo all of the hard work she'd put into him. Why the hell did she follow him into exile? She couldn't help him. Hell, she couldn't even help her damn self.

****

"Hvits, I know this moment will be one of the happiest of your life, but I hope your decision this rising won't also join this joyful time with one of your life's biggest regrets."

"Even if it does it matters not, I'll just add it to the many regrets I already carry with me."

Hvitserk sat with those regrettable words festering in his head for several turns of the hour glass. Even back then he knew her profession would prove true. Yet what he didn't know was how irrevocably her prophecy would break him. For he carried so many regrets he nigh buckled under the girth of them. His load so troublesome he dared not approach her in the wake of all his wrongs. No she deserved more from her existence than a walk joined to a path as broken as his.

By the time the moon replaced the sun in the heavens he'd prepared himself to fare her well. Once resolve took root to do so, he entered the cabin. Upon his entrance her verdant stare sought his, and then rolled away. Not put off by her reception of him, he crossed the room to where she lounged on the plush chair near the hearth. When he towered over her, she glared up at him. He swallowed, and then cleared his gullet.

"You've seen me back to robustness." His gaze crept over her face as verbally noble intent blistered the tip of his tongue. "And in turn I've set your Midgard to flames many times over. You deserve more than the slight Fate dealt you when she thought to settle you with me." The skin between her brows furrowed. He sipped a bit of air and released a deliberate brow. "Next rising I mean to liberate you of my presence."

"What?" She came upright in her seat.

His head bobbed. "My gratitude is yours, Hjarta."

Bewilderment charged across her face and snatched her head about. He turned away to gather the things he'd need for his trek through the forest the next morn. Moments after a blow to the back took him unawares. When he spun around another wallop struck his jaw. Bonnie stood before him. Her gaze flickered gold while a burnished gilded glow radiated from her person.

"That's right, fucking walk away! It's the only thing in which you're consistent and successful." She spat at him. "When shit hits the fan, everyone and there dockside whores know that's when Hvits hits the road." A blaring voice not entirely her own burst from her mouth. ""

"!" A potent bellowing tone threaded itself with his. "And you've spurned me, woman! At every bend...at every encounter."

Her head bobbed and weaved as she jabbed a finger in his face. "Fuck you, fuck your insecurities, and fuck your ever need to portray the victim!" She slapped a palm to her chest. "I was weak, Hvits! And Faith needed you! Why the hell didn't you fight for her?" Tears fled her stare and drenched her cheeks. "You, my Sentinel, my former mate just turned and walked away."

"Because attempting to hold you nigh charred me," he whispered, while his gripping glare offered her more secrets than his mouth ever would. Did he know Faith was his babe? No, but he also kept his thoughts from cavorting along those lines. For such a binding to Bonnie would've assuredly drew him back to her. "Just as the sun would to anyone who endeavored to embrace it."

Silent sobs shook her entire form. "You're a coward."

"Yes, " he could do no other than agree. For what clemency would falsities have served him within such a moment?