Deathly

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Hvitserk watched over the young blonde, see had lost so much blood that at this point he was unsure if she would even make it. He'd stumbled over her by chance as he traveled to meet with King Olaf, at the demand of Ivar, to ask him to fight with him, but seeing Little Bear, it changed everything. He wondered how the young woman had come to be here, how she'd found this place, he also wondered how she'd ended up in this state. The girl he knew was brave, strong, she'd never let herself be put in such a situation. 

He only left her side to talk business with King Olaf, he did not want to disrespect his friend by talking over her resting form about the man she loved. He would return to her side as soon as he could, he made sure she was never alone, Hvitserk did not want her to wake up with no one to comfort her. 

King Olaf found himself quite concerned with the lack of improvement shown by the female. Even though this woman had only been in his presence a short time, he knew this would not be how she wanted to die, and if this was her final form, she would rather be dead. Little Bear was strong and although she had never mentioned such a thing to the King, he knew she had a weakness, that weakness being love. She had been burnt, he could see the heartbreak behind her dead eyes and it pained him that she had been left to feel that way. 

It had been days since Little Bear had spoken, days since there were any signs that she had woken up. Canute brought her fresh food and water each day but there was no improvement. Hvitserk talked to her, told her little stories, spoke of the woman who brought him joy, someone new in his life. Still, he'd give her up in a heartbeat to be here beside Iona. This woman, no matter what she wanted, would always be his priority, she needed to be kept safe and he was one of the only people who thought he could help her. 

He swore to himself that if she made it through, things would be different. He could only hope that everything she'd said was true, that she really was special and she was no where near death. Still, seeing her now told him she was exactly like everyone else, a mere mortal.

It seemed like nothing was bringing her back to him and everyone else around them.

XOXOX

Word traveled through the lands, and the messages were mixed. By the time the word got to Ivar, he was informed that the young blonde who had captivated his attention had died. He initially refused to believe what he'd been told but as more reports saying the same thing came to him, Ivar could do nothing but feel only guilt. 

His mind had never let her face slip from it, her words or her love. 

She stood in the way of one thing though, he knew it from the moment he met her. 

Iona would never bare him an heir. She was not interested in that part of being a female, there were never hints that she wanted more than him and war. She was meant to be his and if the word was true and she was dead, he'd never see her again. 

He wanted to know the truth, to see her body. He needed to see it to believe it, but the whispers were loud and nothing changed. There was no inclining that she might be alive and therefore Ivar had no choice but to believe the word which had reached him. Iona was dead.

The day she finally came back around, many moons had passed

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The day she finally came back around, many moons had passed. Hvitserk was there when he eyes opened, her glaze was almost glazed and her expression stayed blank. Her eyes were sunken and her skin was deathly pale. Her beautiful looks had been tarnished by the scar that littered her face, gone was her overly feminine face and unblemished skin. Hvitserk worried what she would think if she could see, it would not be a surprise to her, but it might shock her.

Glancing at the man who sat at her side, Little Bear stared aimlessly at him. She felt pain flowing through her body, but there was nothing she could do to take that away. She winced with every movement, her eyes on Hvitserk who scrambled to his feet. 

"How are you feeling?" He asked her as he moved towards her, sitting on the side of the bed. 

Her hands moved up, pulling the blanket closer to her as she pulled her legs closer to her body trying to make herself small. She didn't open her mouth to speak, instead she just stared at Hvitserk. Her hands shook as they balled tightly in the blanket, it took a moment for Hvitserk to noticed before he stepped away from her, taking a few steps back. 

"It's me," his voice was quiet as he saw not only pain in her face but confusion and fear. 

Little Bear shook her head, she couldn't stop shaking her head as she closed her eyes burying her head into her blanket. Her breathing was loud and for a moment, Hvitserk was sure he'd seen tears in her eyes. He moved towards the door, his eyes on the young woman, she might have been alive but she was no longer the person she once was. 


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