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"Are you alright, do you need anything?" My mother's voice down the phone reminded me of our own little house in the centre of Cambridge.
"I'm fine, mother, stop fussing." I smiled, secretly enjoying every second of it. "I miss you."
"Well, I'm sure you'll make lots of new friends." She spoke gently down the phone, trying to sooth me although I could hear her pain. She wanted me to be happy, I knew that, but she'd lost her little girl. And that was pain enough for any mother. "And what about boys hm?" I could hear her smile through the phone. "Have any caught your attention yet?"
"Caught my attention?" I laughed. "Are we Victorian now?" From across the line, I heard her give a small chuckle, the sound of our grumpy old cat meowing down the phone for food. "The only men I should be worried about are the ones in my history books."
"That's good dear," She answered. "But you don't have to be lonely to be successful."
"I'm not lonely, ma." I told her with a sad smile. "I've always got you and dad."
When I woke up, my head pounded. I didn't remember falling asleep in my bed, and yet I was here. The last I recalled, I was lying in the cold grass trying to forget everything that had happened. Someone must have brought me inside, and I was certain that it was another deed that I'd have to thank the Ragnarssons for upon seeing them.
As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door and my head jolted up.
"Yes?" I answered, pulling myself to stand, my feet cold against the slightly damp floor.
When Hvitserk's head poked through the door, I gave a small smile. At this point, I'd become rather used to how each of them would knock. Ubbe would knock twice and wait, Hvitserk did the same, and Ivar simply barged in at whatever time he wished.
"Ivar wanted to see you." He looked over with slight concern before speaking again. "Are you feeling any better?"
I nodded, pushing back the pain in my heart and trying to maintain my composure. No matter what, I would survive. I would get through this horrible ordeal and I would return home. I just had to stay strong. "I'm better, thank you Hvitserk." I smiled, pulling on my boots and walking out the door with him.
Today was another day. Another battle, internally or externally - sometimes even both. And every day until now, I'd already won. So today, I'd simply have to win again. It was true, what happened had broken me. It would break any woman. But in times such as these, I did not have the luxury of breaking. I had to keep fighting. When I returned to my mother's arms, perhaps then I could weep and break. But now? Now I had to keep moving on through thick and thin.
There was no one here to save me. If I slipped up, I would certainly die. I had to save myself.
"Are you and Ubbe alright?" I asked gently, my gaze still trained upon the muddy ground. "I haven't spoken to you in a while."
We both knew why that was, neither of us bringing up the fact that the only person to whom I now spoke seemed to be Ivar. Why? I wasn't exactly sure. I suppose because he understood my feeling of not fitting in better than anyone else. I suppose because I'd always had a soft spot for the dark and mysterious. Someone who should've scared me to my very core - and on most occasions he very much did - seemed to bring me comfort. Comfort in knowing I was safe, comfort in knowing I was understood, maybe comfort in just familiarity - I was, after all, dedicating my life to studying his own life before I ended up hurtling backwards in time.
"We're fine." He answered, the conversation silencing in a way that it rarely did around Hvitserk. It was an awkward silence, one that I wasn't used to with him.
Briefly, I paused, taking a breath before I hugged him. For a moment, it seemed as though he didn't know how to react, but he quickly embraced me in return. I wanted to say thank you, thank you for protecting me when I first arrived in this godless place and thank you for always looking after me while I was here. But I'd never been very gifted with saying things to people, using the words that I adored writing with. I'd always been more fond of action and deed over word.
"Ahem." Ubbe's voice made me jump but I quickly smiled in his direction.
"Ubbe," I waved as we turned to walk inside the old church. "I haven't seen you in a while."
He nodded, looking down at me with a sad smile that I understood very quickly to be one of sympathy and caring. "I'm glad you're alright." He answered.
As the doors opened, the small number of men within fell silent. Ivar, of course being at the centre, made eye contact with me first before he looked over at his brothers. His gaze seemed to linger on me a little longer than usual, and I wasn't sure why that gave me butterflies but it certainly did.
"You're all late." He spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest.
Before Ubbe and Hvitserk could interject with an excuse, I quickly stepped forwards. "That was my fault." I spoke calmly. "I'm sorry."
As Ivar's eyes met mine again, I wasn't certain I'd be able to maintain my composure. Nevertheless, I did. With a singular gesture, everyone in the room left. It was incredible, truly it was, how in control he'd become in such a short space of time. And I could tell, standing beside them, that Ubbe and Hvitserk weren't to pleased with it.
"We're not making peace with the Saxons." He spoke finally, decidedly, as though the decision was his and his alone.
"You've said that already." Ubbe spoke flatly, still unhappy with his little brother's decision. "But you are not the only leader of this army, Ivar. And why would we want to spill anymore blood?"
Ivar folded his arms, leaning back in his chair as his attention moved over towards me. It was a look that I understood, a look that I was grateful for and yet ever so uncomfortable with. I knew that this righteous war against the Saxons had nothing to do with me. I knew that Ivar's wish to kill them had nothing to do with me. And yet, when he looked over at me, it was as if everyone he'd ever killed had been for me.
"What about you, hm?" He focused on me, Hvitserk and Ubbe soon following his attention. "Do you think we should make peace?"
Did I think they should make peace? Surely not yet. The Great Heathen Army wouldn't begin to disappear for at least another year. Surely there was still a whole year between this moment and the Danelaw, and in that time York would become entirely under Viking control. No Saxon would be able to get in or out, nor would they even try. And, in that time, I knew that Ivar and Hvitserk would have left. But what had Ubbe done? That, I couldn't recall.
"I do not know." I answered, looking down to avoid each pleading look that I was recieving. I took a breath, a deep gulp as I contemplated my words. I didn't wish them to think that I'd become empty headed, that I only followed Ivar's commands, but peace at this point? It wasn't possible. And I couldn't undermine all that I'd attempted to protect. I had to keep History as intact as possible. "But I do not think that attempting to make peace now, so soon, is wise."
I watched as Ivar grinned, as Ubbe looked over at me with that same old look of disappointment. I knew what he thought of me. I knew that he thought I was simply telling Ivar what he wanted to hear. But it was simply cold hard logic. Retribution for my own misfortune had not yet even crossed my mind.
As Ubbe left, Hvitserk following behind him - but sending me a small, knowing, smile as he did - I looked back at Ivar. Before he could speak, begin saying whatever it was that he wished to say, I decided that there was still something on my mind. Something that I needed to say.
"I want to fight against the Saxons with you." I decided, my words firm and unwavering. For a moment, I looked at him trying to figure out what he was going to say. And then came my answer.
