My life had never felt more strange than it had in the few days since I had gained my freedom back. I was no longer made to serve yet I found myself waiting on Ivar's every beck and call. I still served him drinks, retrieved items for him if he asked and found myself patiently waiting either in his room or on the steps of the great hall for him to return from being with Ragnar. My mind told me to run. That this was all some sort of trick or a spell I was under that clouded my mind while he was near. Or was this what it's like to have feelings for someone? To not be able to truly live without them by your side.

I found myself perched on the steps of the great hall looking out over the crowds of people. I scanned each face looking for Ragnar because if I found him I knew that Ivar would be at his heals. The gentle spring breeze kept blowing my hair this way and that making me constantly have to move my hair from my vision as I searched for him.

"I hear my son has given you your freedom back." Aslaug's voice made me jump. She was standing just behind me clad in her normal dark colored dress. Her eyes rimmed heavily with black coal making them pop and seem even more intense.

I nodded in response, still nervous to be around the Queen. My fingers gripped the fabric of my own dress and began twirling it, my nervous coping mechanism.

Aslaug took in a deep, slow breath through her nostrils as she rolled her eyes at me. She was clearly annoyed at my lack of response. "Ivar seems to be enamored by you, girl."

My cheeks burned as she spoke. Ubbe had made it very clear at dinner two nights ago that everyone in the hall could hear my moans of pleasure every night and that maybe Ivar should take it easy on me. The last thing I wanted was for Aslaug to bring up how I was fucking her son.

"Relax. I seem to be the only one who isn't interested in what the two of you do in private." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as she spoke, thanking the Gods she wasn't about to question me. "Maybe you can convince him to not leave with his father for England?"

Cocking my eyebrow at her comment I opened my mouth to speak but she had beat me to it. "The warmth of a woman's touch can over power many earthly desires. Ivar desperately wants to sail with Ragnar, to prove himself to not just himself and his brothers but the world. Despite what others have said about... Ivar," she paused, raising her brow to emphasize what she was actually referring to, "you seem to have an effect on him. Use this, Briet. Convince him not to leave! Ivar will die if he goes... I've seen it." Her voice broke as she finished. Tears welled in her eyes, instantly spilling and running down her cheeks.

Licking my lips I looked away from Aslaug as she tried to compose herself. My eyes scanned the crowd hoping to find Ragnar and Ivar to save me from this uncomfortable conversation. I sighed, not seeing either of them and looked back to the Queen.

"You've seen this?"

Aslaug nodded, wiping the last of the tears from her cheeks. "There was a storm. The waves rose so high they blocked out the sun. The ships splintered and-" her tears started all over again before she forced out the last of her words in a harsh whisper, "there were no survivors."

An all too familiar uncomfortable weight crashed onto my chest. My heart swelled before I felt it shatter in my chest leaving me feeling like I was gasping for air as her words sunk in. Aslaug had the gift of visions and according to many, she was never wrong. Ivar would die if he sails.

Aslaug turned on her heal before I could question her further, leaving me in my heartache, alone on the steps. Tears were rolling down my heated cheeks as her words replayed in my head. I let out a choked sob before I brought my knees up to my chest, hiding my face in my knees.

"Briet?" Ivar's voice broke through my sobs. I desperately tried to wipe my face on the fabric of my dress and quite my sobs but he had already heard them. "Little one, what's wrong?"

I didn't know what to say. All I know is that despite my complicated feelings for the man, I didn't want to lose him. I reached out and threw my arms around his neck, bringing him into me. I hurried my face in his chest and sobbed. Ivar's arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against him as I cried. His lips rested near my ear as she quietly shushed me, whispering that he was here and that he would kill the one who made me cry. If only he knew...

For the first time since the night of the feast, Ivar was able to get aroused. My words to him were true, I didn't care if we ever had sex again because my feelings for him were seemingly more than just physical. Ivar, however, couldn't keep his hands off of me. Every night he pleasured me with his fingers, tongue or both.

I was undressing by the hearth, trying to stay warm on this cold spring night before getting into bed with Ivar. I was barely by the bed when he had grabbed my wrist and pulled me under him.

Ivar fell onto his back next to me as he stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. The sweat from his actions pooled on his brow making his skin glisten in the light from the fire. I laid next to him on my belly, still trembling from the ecstasy. I didn't want to look away knowing that he would soon be sailing away from Kattegat and from me.

Craning his neck to look down at me he smiled then rested his head back down on his pillow, closing his eyes. "You should sleep, little one. We sail for England in the morning." He hummed.

"We?" I repeated, furrowing my brow.

"Yes. You are coming with us." He replied plainly, not looking at me.

Pushing myself up on my elbows so I could look down at him I sighed. "Ivar, I am not going with you."

Ivar's peaceful expression changed to one of annoyance. "This isn't up for discussion."

"You're right, this isn't. I already told you I would not go with you and Ragnar to England even if I was free. Now that I am, my answer hasn't changed." Ivar opened his eyes to look at me. His upper lip curled up in anger, making it clear he wasn't happy with my tone of voice. "And you shouldn't go either."

Ivar's eyes rolled dramatically as he scoffed. "My mother must have gotten to you too, hmm?" I stayed quiet which was enough of an answer for him. "She's not right about her vision."

"And if she is?"

"Then so be it!" Ivar boomed, making me jump. "I will not die known only for being crippled. For my whole life all I wanted was to be like my brothers. To one day sail and raid and fight like they would. And now I have this chance to not only go and do just that but to do it with my father. With Ragnar Lothbrok! No one can take that from me, not my mother, not my brothers and not you!" He reached out, jabbing his finger into my chest with such force that he pushed me back, making me lose balance and have to catch myself with my hands.

My heart was racing and I felt myself start to shake. This wasn't the first time I was scared of Ivar and his temper but this rage felt different. Ivar lurched forward and grabbed the hair at the back of my neck and pulled me so that our noses were almost touching. He was positioned so he was looking down at me while I looked helplessly up at him with doe eyes, trembling as he held me there.

"I-Ivar... you're s-s-scaring me..." I whimpered as his grip grew tighter still. My hand shot up to his at the back of my neck to try and pry his fingers from his hold.

He twisted his hand to the side as he pulled my head back, exposing my neck to him. A shaky cry left my lips from the pain. Ivar's other arm ripped the blankets from his waist as he growled, "Look what you do to me when you're helpless like this."

My eyes darted down at his newly erect self. Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes immediately followed by sobs. He couldn't possibly be that cruel. My reaction must have snapped him out of his insanity because he instantly released his hand from the back of my head and brought me into him. I curled into a tight ball as he held me, petting my hair and whispering repeatedly that he was sorry for scaring me.

The only response I could muster was a subtle nod of my head as he held me tighter.

The morning sky was filled with looming grey clouds, blocking out the sun. I had slipped from Ivar's arms early this morning before he woke and made my way down to the docks before the townspeople filled the streets.

Today was the day that Ivar would leave. Looking up at the stormy clouds my heart tore. Images of a towering wave breaking over Ragnar and Ivar's ship played behind my closed lids. Aslaug was right. Ivar will die. I let out a shaky sigh before opening my eyes to be met by strange blue ones.

I wiped the stray tear from my cheek with the heal of my hand and scooted back from my seated position on the wooden dock.

"You're a little early," Ragnar commented. His lip twitched up in an awkward smile, making me question if it was genuine or fake. He turned sharply and threw his bag into the longship that was tied up to the mooring poles behind him. "I would have thought you would still be with my son."

I scoffed lightly at his comment, looking away from him and out onto the fjord.

"Trouble with the young couple?" Ragnar's tone was teasing as he hopped onto the gangway and onto the ship.

"None of your business, Ragnar." I said coldly.

"Ragnar? No King Ragnar?" He questioned, amusedly.

I glared back at him in hopes my expression was a convincing enough 'fuck off'. Before Ragnar could say another teasing word, he looked past me and spoke to whoever was now standing behind me.

"No Ivar?"

Turning to look, I saw Sigurd and Ubbe standing there with bundles of food and weapons in their arms. Sigurd looked down at me and shook his head, clearly still angry from the other day in the woods. Ubbe left his brothers side and started to help Ragnar with getting the last of the supplies on the ship while other members of the crew started to show. I got to my feet and started to walk away, not wanting to be under Sigurd's scrutinizing stare.

"Shouldn't you be with Ivar?"

Without looking back I snapped back with "Shouldn't you be with Margrethe? Or is she too tired from being fucked by Ubbe?"

The rest of the morning I spent wondering the stands of the marketplace. I didn't want to be around Ragnar or Sigurd and going to the hall and potentially running into Aslaug after I failed to get Ivar to stay didn't seem like a better option. I had just bought some fruit for breakfast when the horns sounded, indicating it was time for the raiders to leave.

Slowly I started to make my way back to the docks when I was stopped by a rough hand gripping my wrist, pulling me back. I spun, my free hand clenched in a fist ready to strike. As I was turning I was pulled into a muscular chest, a familiar scent filling my nostrils. Confused, I looked up to find Ivar staring down at me.

"I-Ivar?" I pushed away from his chest and looked to see how he was standing in front of me. Two strange objects were tucked under his arms as he gripped them tightly. His legs were still bound while they hung there keeping him somewhat stable.

"They're crutches." Ivar beamed as he looked down at me.

I was always aware of how petite I was but now that Ivar was standing, he seemed like a giant to me, making him feel even more other worldly. The top of my head was just at his collar bone and he wasn't even standing upright.

With a shaky hand, he let go of his crutch and reached out to me, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. He ran the back of his fingers along my jaw before his body started to shake violently. His hand snapped back to the handle of his crutch as he tried to steady himself. It was clear that Ivar's body wasn't used to holding his weight like this and he was becoming exhausted.

Not wanting him to fall I wrapped my arms around his torso and helped stabilize him, grunting from the force of my body crashing into his. The left crutch dropped from under his arm making him wrap his arm around my shoulders for more support.

I dared not tell him but being held like this made my heart flutter. Closing my eyes I relished the moment of being in his arm. But that moment was gone almost as quickly as it came. Ivar let out an angry roar, pushing me away from him.

"Ivar, what's wrong?" I whispered, quickly bending down to retrieve the fallen crutch.

He took it from my hands, trying to replace it under his arm with no success. I sighed and stepped forward and helped the stubborn man. "I just need time to get used to them." He hissed.

I rolled my eyes at his persistence. "You don't need them, Ivar."

Ivar scoffed. "I won't be able to fight Saxons from the ground."

Lifting myself up on my tip toes I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. I could feel his body relax under my touch for just a moment. As soon as I parted from him I could see his body go back to it's normal tense form. "You are fine just the way you are."

There was an awkward silence between us as he looked down, examining his crutches and his dead legs. His tongue slowly dipped out from his mouth, licking his bottom lip slowly before he brought his head back up and looked down at me. I sheepishly looked up into his eyes and felt the awkward emotional shift between us.

"I know you don't like her, but take care of my mother." He spoke softly. I felt tears well for the second time today and before I could force them away they were already spilling down my face. This was our goodbye, I thought. "No shooting her with your bow." He teased, bringing up the conversation he stumbled in on in the woods between Sigurd and I.

The horns sounded again as a last call. My heart sunk as Ivar shakily made his way to the ship. I followed behind him as he drug himself onto the dock. The people who gathered to watch King Ragnar leave fell silent as the dragging sound of Ivar's feet mixed with the metal thudding of the crutches filled the air.

I stopped just behind Aslaug as we watched Ivar struggle to make his way to the boat. His body was already exhausted from this new physical labor. As he took another step, one of his crutches slid into the openings between two of the wooden boards causing him to fall in a heap of limbs onto the dock.

Instinctively, I went to go to his side but Aslaug stuck out her arm to stop me. I looked up at her with a confused look before looking out to Ivar. He laid there for a moment before he tossed the crutches aside and slowly crawled onto the gangway.

Ragnar stood there watching his son. His facial expression was hard to read. I could see pity but I could also see that he was upset knowing that a cripple was the best he could get for his crew. Ivar looked up at his father, an unsure smile on his face.

"Can you move a little faster, we have a tide to catch." Ragnar joked, taking Ivar's crutches and tossing them onto the boat.

Ivar scoffed, smiling at his father's jab. He took his legs from the wooden plank and swung them over onto the boat. Ragnar bent down to offer his shoulder for support but before Ivar took it he looked back to me. His eyes were filled with a mix of excitement and sadness. He gave a half smile as he mouthed the word "goodbye" before wrapping his arm around Ragnar's shoulder and was helped onto the boat.