A/N: I am SO sorry for being radio silent for as long as I have! This chapter isn't the best but the next one will be exciting, I promise :)

****As the title of this chapter suggests, this part will go into detail about blood, gore and human mutilation. Please, if this bothers you, skip this one. ****

After capturing Aelle, ubbe and Hvtiserk bound the kings' hands and ankles, then tied his ankles to the back of Ivar's chariot. Ivar pushed me from the vehicle and told me to walk with his brothers. Bjorn slapped the behind of Ivar's horse as Ivar shook the reins. The horse cantered on, pulling the now badly beaten King Aelle along the rocky and muddy terrain of England.

The few of us that walked with the humiliated king were silent, coming back down to midgard from the chaos of battle. Floki practically skipped alongside me as I limped on, giggling every now and again at the whimpers and groans coming from the king. A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance just before the skies opened up and raindrops started to fall.

"Thor is pleased," Floki giggled, leaning over towards me.

I looked up at him briefly with a halfhearted smile in response. Not wanting to dampen Floki's good mood I slowed my pace so that he was no longer at my side. The throbbing pain coming from the gash in my thigh was making it hard for me to keep pace with Floki's naturally long strides anyways. Floki carried on, merrily following the sons of Ragnar as they displayed their conquest for anyone and everyone to see.

"Hey," I heard Florian's voice call from behind me. My eyes rolled, annoyed that he was trying to speak with me while in such close proximity to Ivar. "You fought well today." Florian complimented, coming up beside me as we walked.

"Thank you," I smiled up at him curtly in hopes to end the conversation.

"Don't let Ivar take away your victory." He beamed, gently tapping my shoulder.

I winced, grabbing my wound. I looked up at him with knitted brows, angry that he hadn't noticed my still weeping laceration.

Florian grabbed my wrist and pulled me to a stop beside him. My eyes were the size of moons as I frantically looked between him and Ivar who was still riding forward. "Florian, what are you doing?" I snapped.

He pulled me closer to him while he inspected my wound. He pulled the tattered piece of cloth away to fully reveal the gore. My skin was swollen and red where it had been sliced open leaving a dark red, almost black, hole. Blood slowly oozed out as Florian gently moved my shoulder this way and that.

"It's not too bad, but you should head back to the camp and have the healer look at this before it turns bad."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ubbe lift up his arm, signaling everyone to stop. Bjorn pulled at the reins of Ivar's horse stopping the carriage. Aelle whined, no doubt thanking whatever God he prays to that the assault on his back had ended. But he would have no relief, Ubbe tugged him up on his feet roughly.

Ivar unstrapped himself from his seat and swung himself around so that he could watch what was about to happen. He quickly scanned the small group until he found me. I saw the look he gave me when he saw Florian with his hands on my arm. I tugged my arm from him and took a couple of awkward steps back, casting my eyes to the ground.

"Show us where our father died." Bjorn demanded. King Aelle looked up at him, disoriented but didn't answer. Without hesitation, Bjorn back handed the hostage and asked again, this time in Aelle's mother tongue.

Aelle sobbed before he nodded his head in the direction of the woods behind Bjorn. Floki grabbed the collar of Aelle's tunic along with Bjorn and the both of them lead the king on shaky legs into the brush.

More thunder rumbled from above, this time closer and louder. Floki's laugh echoed through the woods, no doubt he was elated that Thor seemed to join us for our revenge. The walk was short, barely any distance off of the road we were just on when Aelle stopped, signaling that we had arrived.

Bjorn looked down at Aelle just in time to see him nod towards an odd square shape on the forest floor. This patch of earth was flat, compared to the uneven ground surrounding it. Bjorn and Floki pushed the king into Sigurd's arms where he held his axe to Aelle's neck to keep him in place.

Bjorn walked towards the strange patch of ground and used the heal of his boot to kick the leaves away. We all heard the sound of his foot scraping against wood and looked towards the king. "This... this is the place?" Bjorn questioned.

King Aelle shook his head yes as he took shaky breaths in through his mouth. Bjorn stepped aside and signaled a few men to open the hatch. The warriors pulled at the ropes that Aelle showed were hidden under the dead leaves and revealed a deep pit dug into the earth.

Bjorn was the first to pear over the edge into the pit, into Ragnar's tomb. Ivar made his way past his brothers to the edge of the pit as well. His hands gripped the sides of it as he looked into the abyss. "This is where our father was killed." He spoke.

Ubbe and Hvitserk joined Ivar at his side as they also looked in. Hvitserk looked unrecognizable. He was always so jovial and kind but the look painted on his face now was one I didn't recognize. His eyes seemed soulless as he glowered back at the Saxon.

"How the little pigs will grunt when they hear how the old boar suffered." Bjorn quietly quoted their father.

Aelle looked like he had seen a ghost. He gasped, clearly bewildered that Bjorn had quoted some of his father's dying words. "How much gold and silver do you want to spare my life? Name your price. Anything... anything!" Aelle sobbed, looking between all five brothers.

"You are mistaken." Ivar said. "My father was worth far more than silver or gold." He turned and looked up at Aelle with wild eyes and a malicious smile. "That is not the price you must pay."

Floki came from behind Sigurd and took Aelle from his hold, forcing him down to his knees. Floki invaded the kings space by pushing his face in his as he spoke. "I heard your god is a carpenter. And guess what?" He shook the man violently before he said "So am I."

The oldest sons of Ragnar all laughed deeply as they dragged Aelle off. I moved to follow but the pain in my legs stopped me instantly. Sucking in air from behind clenched teeth, I grabbed at my leg.

"Briet." Ivar snapped from where he was still sitting. I looked up at him and tried to hide the fact that I was in pain. Ivar's hand came up as he slowly curled his finger, commanding me to him.

Kneeling in front of Ivar, I took a moment before I brought my eyes up to his. Not only had I disobeyed him but I put myself in danger. I knew harsh words were the least of my worries at this point.

Ivar reached out, grabbing my forearm in a vice grip and pulled me closer to him. His fingers pushed the fabric of my tunic away to reveal the gash on my arm. I watched as his face scrunched in anger before he looked down to the one on my thigh, assessing my wounds.

"Go back to the camp, these need to be cleaned and mended." I nodded in response, thankful that he took some pity on me. Getting up on my feet I turned to head back to the camp. "I want you back here for tonight. And make sure Florian stays away from you."

Later that night back in the woods, Floki was elated to show the horrified King Aelle the wooden cross he made just for his execution. Aelle was blubbering behind his gag as Bjorn, Hvitserk and Ubbe held his arms out along the cross beam and pushed his chest against the cross. Floki walked the few steps until he was behind Aelle, hammer in hand. He gripped the handle of the tool as Bjorn and Hvitserk adjusted their grips on the Kings arms, making sure his hands were in place before Floki hammered the long nails into the back of his hands.

With every bang of Floki's hammer I felt myself flinch. I was kneeling on the ground at Ivar's feet, his hand possessively clutched my shoulder. Florian was not far from my view as he stood, hands crossed in front of him, watching the display.

Another bang of the hammer made me jump making Ivar's grip tighten still on my shoulder. I've seen sacrifices before, but this was personal. The air around us seemed thick and tense. Looking around at all of the soldiers, their faces lit up by not only the light of the torches but also from the display of animosity that was about to ensue.

Bjorn griped the collar of Aelle's red tunic before he tore it in half, revealing the king's naked back. Bjorn turned and took a blade that had been left in the fire behind him. The tip of the blade was now glowing white hot as he gripped his hand tightly around the hilt. Without hesitation he pressed it against Aelle's skin at the top of his back. Slowly he pressed it deep in the flesh and began to drag it down. Aelle's skin was both cut wide open and singed as he went. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils and my stomach began to churn.

Aelle's screams echoed through the woods. They were so loud, I knew the Gods above could hear him as they smiled down on the Revenge of the Ragnarsons. It seemed to go on for forever, Bjorn cutting down the man's back.

When Aelle's screams finally stopped, I felt my body slightly relax. Ivar's hand moved from my shoulder, his fingers gently tracing up my neck and into my hair where he began to absent mindedly twirl a lock of my hair. I sat back a little further so my back was resting against the stump Ivar was perched on and tried to calm myself, spreading my fingers into the soft dirt.

The calm before Aelle's storm ended as Bjorn's fingers plunged into the gaping wound on the kings back and began to peal back his flesh. Bjorn grunted as he worked to tear the skin from the muscle while Ubbe and Hvitserk let out guttural laughs as they held Aelle's arms against the wooden cross beam as he struggled.

I could feel my stomach starting to churn again. My lips turned down in a disgusted frown. Being mindful not to make my actions too obvious, I cast my eyes to the ground so I wouldn't see the brutality and tried desperately to recite a song my father used to sing to me to drown out the sounds.

There was only a moment of silence before the unmistakable wet, shattering sound of an axe hitting bone filled the forest. No amount of mental chanting could drown out this new sound. A whimper escaped from behind my lips as I shrunk back into my spot on the ground. I wanted to run, to escape this brutality but before I could even move to leave, Ivar's calloused hands gripped my jawbone, his thumbs stroke my cheeks roughly.

He moved so that his left cheek rested against my right one and held me in place so that I had no choice but to look at the display before us. His grip tightened when I tried to jerk my head out of his grasp. Blood splattered across Ubbe's face as Bjorn hacked away at Aelle's ribs. I whimpered, struggling to fight back tears.

Ivar's grip on my jaw disappeared before he slid off of the stump he was perched on. He positioned himself next to me, his hand instantly gripping the hair at the back of my head and brought me in close to him.

"What's the matter, girl?" He whispered harshly, his cheek returning to mine as he spoke. "You wanted this, don't look away."

The tears I had been holding back finally spilled down my cheeks. "Please, Ivar." I begged quietly, trying to bury my face in his chest for some type of comfort.

Ivar let go of my hair only for his hand to again grip my jaw and forced me to look him in the eyes. His other hand wrapped around my side to hold me tightly against him. "This is what you wanted, why you disobeyed me." He hissed through gritted teeth. "You wanted to prove you are a shield maiden, now watch, little one."

His lips landed harshly on mine. Before I had a moment to take in his sweet lips against mine they were already gone and he forced me to look back at the scene before us.

King Aelle didn't survive much longer. I silently thanked Odin that this obscenity could finally come to an end. When Hvitserk had announced the king's death, Ivar finally let go of me. I felt myself crumble into him, exhausted from the ordeal. Ivar's gaze left the body of the Saxon king momentarily to look down at me. I heard him breath out heavily through his nostrils before I felt gentle fingers brush under my jaw before lifting my head up.

I blinked up at Ivar, my eyes dry and scratchy from crying. He looked down at me with what looked like genuine concern while he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Go back to camp, little one. I'll be back soon." He closed the small space between us and pressed his lips against my forehead.