In which Freya Ylvasdottir has been prophecied by the Seer to be destined to betray her mother, Queen Ylva the Dread and Bjorn Ironside, her mother's husband, and no matter what she does to try to avoid her fate, all roads lead back to the betrayal...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
At King Harald's Great Hall, Ivar was sitting in the main room with Bishop Heahmund, playing a game of chest. "We will be fighting against your brothers," Heahmund spoke up in a calm tone, "Yes?"
"Yes," Ivar replied, taking a sip of his mead, "Perhaps even my brother Bjorn and his wife Ylva, if they return from their travels."
"Do they frighten you, your brothers?" Heahmund asked Ivar curiously.
Ivar laughed, immediately shaking his head. "No. Maybe Bjorn, just a little," He admitted in a calm tone, "I don't find him very smart, but he is a great warrior. They call him Bjorn Ironside."
Ivar chuckled softly, a smile appearing on his lips. "But his wife. Now, that is someone to fear," He commented as Hvitserk and Freya lifted their heads while they sat at another part of the room, "Even I know that. She has a ferocity in battle like no other. She is not called the she-wolf for nothing. She fought in her first battle at eleven years old, raised an army at twelve, and overthrew her father at thirteen, becoming Earl in her own right despite having two older brothers. She trained with my father for ten months as well at the age of ten. After that, she lived all across Norway, gaining knowledge from some of the greatest warriors in this land. In the process, she raised an army that no one would believe a girl of twelve could be able to raise. She went from home to home in Ashton, slaughtering anyone who refused to kneel to her, their families too. She spared the children, though, selling them as slaves instead. And do you want to know how she killed her father?"
Heahmund was silent for a long moment, uneasily nodding his head as a way to tell Ivar to continue.
Ivar smiled, turning to glance at Freya before back at Heahmund. "She starved him for a week, feeding him nothing but dirty water and stale bread for two weeks after that. When he was nothing but skin and bones, she had him flayed. She strung him up on the walls of the great city of Ashton after that, letting the ravens and flies eat what was left of him. She did all of this at thirteen and more. Even I know it would be foolish of me not to fear someone like her. While my brother is a good warrior, Ylva is not just a great warrior, but one of the smartest people I have ever met. She is not someone to make an enemy out of. My mother taught me that. As long as she is left breathing, she will always be a problem."
Freya sighed as she listened to Ivar. She sighed, turning to look at Hvitserk as she tried to hide her uneasiness.
____
It was nighttime and Hvitserk was laying in bed. He was on the verge of falling asleep when he heard footsteps. He turned, only to frown as he watched Freya enter.
"Freya," He frowned as he sat up from his lying position, "What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't bear being alone," Freya admitted softly with a disappointed look on her face, "I've been unable to sleep these past few days. I was wondering..." She sighed, moving closer to Hvitserk, "I was wondering if I could lay with you tonight."
