King's have to much power. They can throw away and keep who they wish, with no regard for others. They don't have to be punished for their actions because they control the government. Asher's family were one of the many victimized families. Exiled f...
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One Year Later
She was stronger, she was faster, she was angrier. She was ready, she was willing. She was reborn.
Asher had survived, it had been a long and torturous process, but she was now stronger than she ever was. She was ready for revenge. The Ironcrawlers had been making themselves ready for this war, training and studying the Vikings from a distance.
Ivar hadn't changed much since a year ago. He was the same arrogant piece of shit. The only thing he didn't know was that Asher had survived. He only thought of the Ironcrawlers and what they might do now that their leader was dead. He thought of her in different lights too. He would imagine her smiling face at the strangest times. She consumed many of his waking thoughts and all of his dreams.
Asher had become what they knew she would be. She thought herself above the gods, a warrior goddess. Her heart was consumed by her hatred of the Vikings and their leader. She was no longer a weak lamb, she refused to be lead to the slaughter again. She was going to rid the world of the vile creature that had entranced her.
She would make sure no one else ever fell for his treacherous lies and false interpretations of love. She was ready to see him fall before her, doused in his own blood. She would make the Vikings regret following him into battle. She would be the light on their dark path, showing them the way. She thought of herself in a high light.
Today was like most days, Asher had gone another night sleepless. She sat before the table, maps of the terrain in hand. She studied them like she had so many nights before. At this point, she had memorized every line, every curve, every indication of a mountain, a river, a town. She was confident in her ability to win this war. She needed no god to grant her victory. She needed no one, but her army.
The Ironcrawlers had watched their leader turn into a hateful monster bound on vengeance and they were proud. She was finally what Mosseus always wished her to be. She was independent, fierce, strong, and willing to die for their cause. Mosseus had seen the look in her eyes, he knew that she could be corrupted and reborn.
Asher had decided that today would begin the biggest battle any of them would face. They had all trained hard, they were stronger and uniform. They had become one army joined together, determined to destroy the man who attempted to kill their leader. Asher was no longer their warrior princess, but in fact, a woman, a queen. She was something that the others dreamed of being. She was gracious and merciful only to her people. She was cruel to all who opposed her. She was as powerful as a god, she had honed her telekinesis to an art. She was in control and she was proud.
Asher pushed back the flaps of her tent, stepping out. Her left hand rested on the hilt of her sword. She was dressed in armor, hair braided tightly from her face. Black lines ran along her cheeks and over her eyelids. One line separated from the others, training from the philtrum to her chin. She was savage looking, a true being to behold.
The Ironcrawlers stood before her, spread out, awaiting her decision. Would this battle finally come to fruition? Did she deem them ready? They felt they were ready to control England once again, showing everyone who every betrayed them that they were powerful. They were a force to be reckoned with.
"Ironcrawlers," her attention-demanding voice called above their chatter, "I have come to a decision concerning the battle against the Vikings."
They intently listened, some fidgeting, demanding an answer now.
"We will begin our journey back to England by tomorrow. We will have our battle and we will be victorious. Mosseus watches over us from his throne in the sky. He knows your anger, your pain and he wants to see your revenge's. In order to take them, we must first defeat our common enemy, the Northmen. We shall have Ivar the Boneless's head! He shall die a terrible death inflicted by you, the greatest army to ever live!"
Their cheering could be heard from miles away, they were ecstatic. She would lead them into victory and they would worship her.
Three Days Later
They had arrived upon the soon to be battleground. Their battle horns sounded, alerting the Vikings of their arrival. A black stead stood before the army, armor laid upon it. Its mane black as the night, fell down the right side of its neck, perfectly groomed. On its back sat Asher, helmet guarding her face and brown hair flowing down her back in haphazard braids.
The Ironcrawlers spread out behind her for miles, people of all nationalities, shapes, sizes stood for her. Different weapons held in dissimilar hands. They stood proud and wild, they were aligned with armor and black paint. They were ready.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, a chariot flew through the open gates of the castle. Behind him rode a few other Vikings, all large and muscular in size. Ivar could make out the colors of the Ironcrawlers, red and white. As Asher had told him so many times before, 'the white symbolizes how we were frozen out by our people and the red symbolizes the blood that they will shed for their betrayal'.
As he got closer he began to realize who stood before the army. The person that he thought he had ended. It was Asher.
![Kill the King •Ivar the Boneless• [ON HIATUS]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/133645767-64-k91506.jpg)