"I don't want to lose you."

Message from the Author:  I just wanted to say that I appreciate all of your support for this novel.  It is currently 2 in the morning and I apologise for any grammatical errors, but I really wanted to post a chapter for you today.  Your comments are literally the only thing that keep me going, so I appreciate all of your lovely critiques.  Love to you all. Xx

  Torhyl walks through the streams of men rushing around her. She checks the condition of her ships and directs each man to a new job. Men and women rush around her in a mad rush to prepare the ships and gear for the journey back to Greece. They have to cast off as swiftly as they can manage to make it back to Greece before winter strikes.

Torhyl's mind is so enraptured with the thoughts of the souls lost in the massacre that she has not had the opportunity to rest. Her body is running on pure rage and the distant cry of vengeance for her people. She has not had the chance to think of much else.

"Commander!" A voice breaks her out of her thoughts.

Torhyl turns abruptly to be met with Ivar's confused gaze. Torhyl gives him a quick glance before continuing past him to pack the ships.

"Not now, Ivar." Torhyl speaks quickly, her mind too clouded with anger to focus on her developing feelings for the young man.

"I think now is the best time." Ivar shouts after her.

Torhyl stops in her tracks and turns to him. She strides back to him and crouches down in front of him. "What is it, Ivar?"

"What's going on? Why are you preparing your fleet?" Ivar motions towards the ships.

Torhyl's jaw stiffens at his innocent line of questioning. Torhyl gently massages the bridge of her nose. "Did your father not tell you?"

"I would prefer to hear it from your lips, Torhyl," Ivar speaks. "Why are you leaving?"

Torhyl rubs her eyes, her lack of sleep causing her eyes to ache. "War has broken out in Greece. The kingdom's army has managed to subdue the invaders to the surroundings of the main town, but in doing so, they have left my village unprotected. All those we have left behind...have perished in the wake of a war that was not theirs to fight."

Ivar takes in Torhyl's appearance. Her eyes are heavy with lack of slumber and her face is blank with emotion, but he can see the pain and betrayal that lies behind her eyes. It is almost as though the laughs they shared days before did not even happen, the pain of loss taking over her happiness once again and replacing it with sadness.

"Torhyl..." Ivar whispers gently. He tips her chin up with his finger to meet his eyes. "That is not your fault. You cannot blame yourself for this. It is the Grecians who have caused this tragedy and it is the Grecians who will face the wrath of their wrongdoings, not you."

"They killed innocent children, Ivar," Torhyl says, her voice raw with emotion. "They took the lives of those who could not defend themselves. I should have been there to ensure their safety."

"Torhyl, you are the strongest woman I have met." Ivar comments, his fingers gently pushing her hair back from her face. "But you cannot be everywhere at once. Your concern shows that you truly care for your people, and that will see the loyalty of your men. There is no way you can reverse this, but you can seek vengeance for the lost."

"My men are ready for a war," Torhyl eyes flicker over her fleet. "And that is what I shall give them."

"I will come with you." Ivar turns and drags himself towards his cabin.

"No, Ivar, wait." Torhyl stands and walks after him. "Ivar!"

Her words do not hinder him as he continues to drag himself down the bustling streets. Torhyl weaves herself in between the many bodies that crowd the marketplace. Her eyes stay locked on Ivar's body as she continues to push her way through the multiple bodies.

Ivar enters his cabin and immediately begins to arm himself. Torhyl bursts through the door and her eyes land on Ivar's body. She strides over to him and stands in front of him.

"Ivar, I cannot allow you to come." Torhyl says firmly. "Your father has told me of his plans to raid again this Spring, and he wants his sons to accompany him. You cannot do that if you are with me."

"But I want to come with you," Ivar says sharply, his jaw tight. "My father cannot make my decisions for me, I am a grown man, I make up my own mind."

Ivar continues to arm himself much to Torhyl's protest. "Ivar, for once, would you listen?"

Ivar pauses to look up at her. Torhy kneels down in front of him and places her hands onto his chest, the warmth of his skin causing her cold skin to immediately heat up at his touch.

"I admire your loyalty, Ivar," Torhyl begins, "But I cannot allow you to join me. This is a mission that I alone have to accomplish. If anything were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself. I need you to stay here with your family, and I want you to fulfil your destiny. Go with your father. Raid England. Take your rightful place as Prince of Kattegat."

"I cannot just forget you, Torhyl." Ivar snaps, his voice hoarse with emotion.

Torhyl shakes her head and runs a hand through her hair in frustration. "You have responsibilities that you have to fulfil here. You cannot just run away with me."

"Why can't I?" Ivar challenges her, his jaw set and his eyes firm.

"Ivar, now is not the time for these games." Torhyl stands to her feet and walks around the hut.

"Who says I'm playing games?" Ivar says. "I want to come with you. I want to fight at your side."

Torhyl turns around and strides towards Ivar. She takes his face in her hands. "And you will get that chance, but now is not the time. Be patient, Ivar, your time in battle will come."

Ivar's eyes glisten, tears cloud over his vision. His eyes meet Torhyl's, his face contorted into a look of sadness and disappointment.

"I don't want to lose you." Ivar whispers, his voice wavering with the tears caught in his throat.

Torhyl's expression softens at his words. Her heart grieves for the young man that sits in front of her, his emotions now exposed and his thoughts now released into the open. She knows how vulnerable he has made himself for her and it kills her to know that she is the one that has made him this way.

Torhyl reaches down into her boot and retrieves her dagger. She holds the piece of forged steel in her hands and admires the craftwork as she turns the blade over.

"This blade was the first weapon I was given," Torhyl explains. "My father gave it to me before he was taken from me. It may seem like just any other blade...but to me, it's irreplaceable."

Torhyl takes Ivar's hands in her own and places the blade into his palm. She places his other hand over the blade and pushes his hands back to him. "I want you to keep it safe for me."

"Torhyl, I can't take this from you." Ivar hands the blade back to her.

Torhyl pushes the blade back to him. "This blade has served me well. It is of irreplaceable value to me. If the fates allow it, we will see each other again, but until that day, take this blade to remember me by."

"I will come to Greece one day," Ivar vows, clutching onto the precious blade. "And I will fight beside you to avenge you against those who have hurt you and your people. I will see you again, of that I am sure."

"You are stubborn," Torhyl chuckles lightly and shakes her head. "I am sure you will find away to defy the odds."

"Someone once told me that 'it is never a waste of time if you invest it in something you desire'." Ivar gives her a light smile.

Torhyl lets out a breathy laugh before leaning forward and capturing his lips in her own. She savours his touch one last time, not knowing if this would be the last time she would be able to touch him. And with that she stands and she walks to the doorway.

She turns to look at Ivar one last time. Torhyl was never good with 'goodbyes'. Every time she would say goodbye, the people she farewelled never returned. It was something that she had grown accustomed to...losing people. It did not mean it hurt any less each time another would leave her heartbroken. But to her, it felt like it was her burden to bear.

Silence. Loneliness. Pain. All things that make her suffer in silent torment. It always seems like the things that make her happiest, leave and take with them another piece of her and one day she fears that she will have no more pieces to give. Then what is she left with? A shell of a being she used to know?

Torhyl's eyes blur Ivar's clear face into a pool of retained tears, the distinctive features seemingly blurred into an unrecognisable mosaic of colours.

"May we meet again, Ivar Lothbrok." Torhyl whispers breathlessly as she turns to leave him one last time, another piece of her heart left behind. Another piece she could never replace.