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The world was turning black and misty grey. Shadows danced in the distance, former ghosts of this town on their way to their afterlife. Alfild listened to the air, singing stories of past lives. She inhaled the scent of fresh grass and flowers and dewy night rain.
Her thoughts were disturbed by that familiar crawling that she'd now grown accustomed to. Ivar hadn't meant to stumble upon the girl, of course. And yet, in some turn of fate, he had. Neither of them could sleep, minds still racing. They both knew that though the battle was won, the war was far from over.
"Do you never sleep?" He spoke, gaining the girls attention. He talked with his usual accusatory tone, a tone that Alfild had learned to find ever so slightly less infuriating. A tone that Alfild knew she used all too often herself.
The girl shrugged, "I rarely have the time. Besides, I wouldn't want to with the things I see."
Crickets chirped in the distance. The soft hum of nature trying to drown out the awkward silence that now fell upon the pair.
But soon, Ivar found the words to speak again. "Tell me about them." He said plainly.
The Queen looked over towards him, a little confused. She'd never spoken to anyone about such things. There was no one she could confide in, no one she could trust. If she couldn't trust her own people with such things, what made him think that she could trust him?
Ivar seemed to catch on quickly to her silence. His blue eyes became a shade colder and his face contorted into a bitter smile. "Of course, you still don't trust me. You and everyone else here."
Again, silence fell upon the pair. Neither of them knew what to say. Alfild had always lacked the ability to articulate feelings. She preferred action over word, the tip of the sword over a snide remark. Though Ivar had been known for said snide words, he was still no good at articulating his emotions. And that left the two in a rather awkward situation.
After a lot of thought, Alfild spoke again. "Why don't you tell me about your dreams? What's so bad that it keeps Ivar The Boneless up at night?" Her tone was cutting, and it appeared almost like a challenge. A challenge that Ivar wasn't sure he enjoyed.
"and why would I do that, hm?" He retorted.
The girl simply grinned, her eyes lit with a devious flame. "Because you want me to trust you."
The boy thought for a moment as they both stared at one another. Alfild assumed he'd break, that this would make him leave her alone. But she vastly underestimated Ivar's stubbornness.
"It always starts with my father." He began, making Alfild's eyes dart up in shock. "The day he leaves. Then it's the people, whispering about this crippled Prince, saying that they'd leave too if their son was like me." He continued. As Alfild listened, she felt a strange sense of sorrow for the boy. A strange understanding. "Then I see them both. My mother, my father, Lagertha on their throne. I see the axe strike Sigurd. I see-" He paused, gulping as he looked at the girl. He had to remember that she was here, that she was listening. That he couldn't tell her how his dreams ended, because they always ended with her. "I see people that I've hurt, people that will never forgive me."
Alfild thought about his words. This fear he held seemed to make sense now. He just wanted to be accepted, to be important. And that she understood all too well.
Slowly, she reached her hand out to his once more. Her eyes were like the warm embers of a fireplace. His were like an ocean, filled with pain and sorrow. Gently, she grasped his hand. "I see the people I've loved too." She said softly. "There was a girl I knew once, her name was Sigrid." The girl began. Ivar didn't really understand the relevance of her story, but he listened anyway. And so she continued. "She always told me that there was more to life than just killing to survive. She taught me peace and love and compassion. Before her, I thought all those things were weakness. And after she died, I thought the same things again. But I was wrong. There are some people who deserve forgiveness."
The boy looked at her with an odd expression. "What are you saying?"
"Blood must not have blood, Ivar. You've already lost enough." She answered.
