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Little Bear avoided Ivar later on, she did not want to talk about Margrethe with him no longer

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Little Bear avoided Ivar later on, she did not want to talk about Margrethe with him no longer. His anger was high after not finding her mother and that made her nervous. She found her herself collecting a few weapons before creeping off into the darkness of the nearby woods. She needed the silence, needed time to be alone and to think. 

Closing her eyes, she allowed her senses to take her to where she wanted to be. She found herself walking further and further from Kattegat. She looked around, no one knew where she was, that she had left the town or that she was alone. Everyone would have assumed she was with Ivar but after earlier, she was happy to be away from him. 

Behind her, she heard a twig snap which caught her attention. She whipped around on the spot and found herself looking at King Harold in the darkness. "What are you doing out here?" She asked him, her axe held at her side as she had lifted it to throw. 

Harold chuckled at her words, "I could ask you the same thing." He stepped closer to her, "I saw you earlier."

"What do you mean?" She asked him as she lowered her axe. "You have been watching me?"

The King looked amused at her words, "I do not watch, I merely see. Ivar displeases you?"

Iona stayed silent for a second, she was not going to speak ill of Ivar, she did not know of Harold's intentions. "A slight disagreement," she shrugged her shoulders. "You should return, I am sure there will be celebrations tonight, you would not want to miss them."

Harold raised his eyebrows, "You should not miss them either. I am sure Ivar will be missing your presence."

She took a deep breath, "Ivar does not require a woman at his side to celebrate." 

The tattooed man looked at the young blonde, she was so young and naive. "I know you think that but every King wants a Queen. Do you not want to be Queen of Kattegat?" 

Her lips curled into a smile as she thought about those words. She was never meant to be a Queen, she could feel it, she was only meant to fight. She was made different to the others around her. Little Bear may have appeared to be the typical looking woman for a Viking's wife but she was far from it, her blonde hair, smooth skin and innocent looks were a smoke screen for the things she had done. Shaking her head, she sighed. "If Ivar chooses me to be his Queen-"

"Why would he not?" Harold asked her. "You two are sharing a bed, no?"

Running her axe along her skin, she watched as the blood ran from her cut on her arm. "How many women have you shared your bed with?"

"You love him, do you not?"

The blood dripped from her skin onto the floor, "That is none of your concern." She looked at the King and spoke again, "But yes, I do love him." 

"Then I shall see you shortly," Harold nodded before he turned and walked away leaving the young blonde alone in the woods. 

She watched him walk away, she thought about his words. Recently, she had done a lot of thinking, thinking about what others had said to her. Iona hated that others words ran through her mind over and over. She wanted to block it out, to silence all her thoughts, to prove everyone wrong. 

Little Bear knew her life was only as good as she allowed it to be. Ivar had shown her many different things, taken her to places, allowed her to be herself. She wondered if that would be the same with other men. She had seen that although the men around her that had been married allowed their wives to continue to be shield maidens, they had all had children. Iona didn't think she could love a child that way, unconditionally, to have a child tie her down and be tied to another human in such a way forever. With Ivar it was different, she wanted to be tied to him unconditionally but he was also capable of looking after himself, in making those decisions and giving her the space she required. Children were not like that. 

She laid on the ground, her eyes on the creeping light from above. She remembered long ago when she had first met her brother's half brothers, she remembered spending time with Sigurd just watching the world go by, times were simpler then. Thinking back to how her and Ivar's relationship was when they first met, she realised that sometimes very little had changed. He still looked at her with disgust from time to time, he still continued to threaten her and sometimes she felt little respect from him. 

When she finally rose from the ground, she made her way back to the town. She had something she wanted to say to Ivar, she needed to see him. She wasn't going to just let him walk all over her, not any more. Little Bear walked with a purpose, her strides long and her mind focused. 

There was many people in the town, some called out to her, Iona ignored the calls, ignored the people who came close to her as she approached the home Ivar had taken resident in. She entered through the home at the back, but found it empty. There was evidence that people had been here but she knew if no one was here then they would be celebrating in the great hall. 

She moved closer to it, she heard music playing, people chatting and cheering. Her hands shook, she knew she could not speak to Ivar in front of others. She moved closer to the curtain that separated the hall from the living quarters, her eyes peeked through, just barely and there sitting in the throne was Ivar looking down at his subjects. Following his gaze, she noticed the free slave woman at the back of the room, her eyes on his. 

Ignoring all instincts to talk to him about her issues, she walked out, sitting on a small stool beside Ivar gaining his attention instantly. "Where have you been?" He asked as he reached for her small hand. 

Iona allowed him to hold her hand, she smiled as she looked up at him. "I have been clearing my mind. There are many heavy thoughts in my mind, Ivar." 

She watched as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her. He decided to change the subject, wanting to keep peace whilst in public. He lifted her hand, pressing his lips against her skin as he watched her. He mumbled words against her hand, "I am sorry, for all that I do." He pulled her hand back down and smiled in her direction, "And all I may do."

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