Queen Of Peace - Ivar The Boneless (book 2)

Chapter 15

Fluff warning :)))

Ailbe's laughter filled the room as she held a warm fur to her chest in the coldness of dawn. Ivar didn't seem to notice the cold, laying beside her without a care in the world.

""I would not be a dancer!" She laughed, hitting his arm gently. "You're so mean."

"It's true!" He defended his previous statement. "You'd be a dancer and I'd be a..." He pondered this for a moment, thinking about who he could possibly be in this fictitious life that they were manifesting. "A king."

"You're already a King." She pouted playfully, making him smile just a little.

"I'm good at it." He shrugged.

"You'd be a blacksmith." She corrected commandingly, a smile spread across her lips as she contemplated their story. "And I'd be a healer in a little old cottage with lots of jars of herbs and things." She continued cheerily. "And you'd come back from a raid injured!"

"Injured? Me? I don't think so." He denied.

"You'd be injured and they'd bring you to me and I'd fix you." She ignored him. "And we'd fall in love and get married. You'd make things for me and I'd heal all your wounds."

"And cook, you're a good cook." He commended.

Ailbe giggled, nodding along. "And cook."

"And I'll teach you to fight." He continued her story. "But you'll be a bit incompetent."

"I am not incompetent!" She protested with a cheery laugh.

"Ailbe, I love you, but if I had to choose between you and my worst enemy fighting beside me on a battlefield, I'd feel safer with them." He responded.

Their conversation was cut short by a loud knocking on the door, followed by someone barging in. Ailbe quickly yelped, jumping beneath the vast furs upon instinct.

When Hvitserk entered, he looked at them in confusion. Ivar sat with the suggest grin he'd ever seen, while Ailbe was little more than a bump under their many furs. All that proved it was her was the small red curls that dangled from the bed.

""You can come out, you know Ailbe?" Ivar suggested, making her peak up slowly with a crimson blush spread across her cheeks. The things that had transpired the previous night were things she hadn't intended on letting slip to the world. Though, she supposed they would anyway as she wanted everyone to know the truth about Ivar.

"Hello Ailbe." Hvitserk chuckled at the Irish queen.

"Hello Hvitserk." She smiled happily, embarrassment lasing her features.

"What do you need brother?" Ivar interjected shortly.

"I came to get you up." Hvitserk sighed. "You're meeting with King Harald today."

"Shit." Ivar cursed. "Today?"

"Today." Hvitserk affirmed.

The King looked over at his wife, sighing gently. But before he could even excused himself, she gently kissed him. "Go." She spoke firmly. "I really wish you were a blacksmith now."

"Me too." He sighed, kissing her back before dragging himself off the bed.

As they left, Ailbe lay back in the bed and thought. She thought about her life, and how drastically it had changed in such a short space of time. She thought about Ivar, and all the things that they had done the night before. She truly was his wife now. It was real. She was married. And it was magical.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a tap the window followed by a hoot. Her head shot up and she pulled on one of the many pieces of discarded clothing that lay on the floor - which happened to be Ivar's shirt. Giddily, like a small child, she bounded over to the small window and swung it open.

The flap or wings made her jolt as the beautiful white owl flew into the dim room. It hooted again upon landing on the bed before swooping past her and out of the window. Slowly, Ailbe made her way over to the bed. The owl had dropped something and she curiously wished to know what.

When her hands felt the object, a large smile smothered her. The familiar feeling of her old green ribbon made her joyous.

But soon her mouth hung agape. Surely that couldn't be the owl from England, the one that had given her that necklace?

Could it?