𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 ✩ Ivar The Boneless

✩ chapter III, act I ✩

"Distance will swallow us for breakfast one day. But I will still love you."
chapter III, act I ✧ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔

She had woken up early, freeing herself from Hvitserk's arms. She threw on one of Sigurd's pants, knowing they would fit.

Her boots barely got off the floor with each step she took, she was emotionally and mentally drained. Her thoughts drifted in between Ivar and Hvitserk.

As she thought about the kind, blonde boy, her guts fluttered and a sly smile crossed her lips, but once her mind focused on the murdering Ragnarsson, her stomach turned, thinking of him and his servant. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands.

The small gift for her king felt heavy in her pocket. She walked towards the town's market, hoping to finally be able to buy her knives, they would surely be needed in her raid.

Her feet stopped once she reached the blacksmith. He looked at her, one of his biggest clients, with a smile he motioned for her to come in, "Knives? Axe?"

"Knives," she yawned, nodding. He tossed her his nearest knife, knowing she would catch it regardless if she had seen it coming or not.

The weapon was soon in her hands, she weighted the darkly painted silver, a forged twist karambit, her skin glowed dangerously and beautifully with the fire that burned right next to her. She toyed with it, the ring on the edge of the knife spinning around her indicator.

The weight was perfect, it was quite practical and it would replace her damaged weapon just fine. With a toothy grin, she tossed a coin at the man she had grown to be friends.

Just as she walked out, Ivar crawled in, a smile on his face as he looked up at the blacksmith, but, with a shaky breath, Nero gathered courage, "Ivar... can I speak with you?"

He hummed briefly and she looked at her friend, he gave her a sigh at the fact that he had to leave his own store, yet complied with the beautiful girl's wishes. She sat down, facing the fire as she watched the flames, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her nervousness.

"I wish for you to know, that I love you... I always have. Even if I do not understand the feeling completely. And— I know you are going to England, and I know I'm leaving as well, but if I die, which I might..." another shaky breath left her lips, "I can't die knowing that I haven't told you, how much I truly love you Ivar, hearing about you and Margarethe broke me and I wasn't strong enough to pretend it didn't, I wasn't strong enough to say what bothered me when I should have."

"Stop speaking, wolf." He grunted, turning away from her at her tasteless sense of comedy.

"Yeah — I believe the boats will be sailing soon." She sighed, still not looking into his eyes, her own beginning to fill with tears that reflected red and orange, "But... I guess I just wanted you to know how I felt, even if you wish to marry that slave."

"Nero. Why would you ever say that to a cripple, for a joke?"

Her eyes snapped to him, dangerously dark, "You know me enough to understand that I would never lie to you. And that your disability has never been an issue, not to me."

"I don't believe you."

"Do you love me?" she questioned, knowing that if he did, he would stop with that nonsense and simply answer.

"I don't believe you, Nero."

"I suppose that's a no then," she smiled, biting back her tongue as tears fell down her eyes, she hated how she waited years to tell him all she felt, and he failed to trust her words.