Growing up in KatteGat the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok were told stories of the mad King and his daughter, Khalessi mother of dragons. And how they concord the seven kingdoms.
Upon a stroll along the waterside two of the brothers, Ubbe and Sigurd disco...
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The battlefield was filled with warriors, the great heathen army was very powerful. Also combined with Arianne and her dragons, the king stood no chance.
Arianne followed the orders she was given by the Ragnarsons. Though she wouldn't usually take orders, she joined them to avenge Ragnar. She taking a few orders wasn't so bad.
When the Viking horn her son had blew rang through the woods, a smirk etched its way across the girls lips. "Show time boys" She spoke, walking along side Drogon, her hand tracing over his scales.
He was huge compared to her, like a dog compared to an elephant. Taking hold of the spikes that ascended from his back, she flew through the air towards the army. The wind flowing through her hair, the shrieks of Kayda caused her to laugh slightly. He was excited.
Arianne could see the smirk drop from their enemies face, their eyes widening at the sight of the dragons. She couldn't blame them, dragons were supposed to be extinct, the last supposedly fell along side Daenerys. Which wasn't exactly true.
The great heathen army charged forward, swords clashing together, bodies falling. Arianne wasn't one for combat, burning them seemed so much easier. Arianne noticed a few Saxon soldiers attempting to run, escaping back over the hill.
The fire quickly consumed their bodies, running frantically through the green. Their screams sounding like lullabies to the queens ears. Mixed with the roars of the Lothbroks, the battle gave her a rush of adrenaline.
Arianne's eyes scanned the battlefield, watching the Vikings kill emotionlessly. Ævar seemed to be just as blood thirsty as his uncles, screaming as he ended the life's of his victims. Arianne may have been scared for his life, but she believed he would be just fine. He was the first of his kind, Viking and Targaryen.
The grass field was now a blaze, the orange of the fire spreading. Without warning Drogon flew straight towards a group of archers, burning them instantly. Their bodies falling to the ground, skin melting like candle wax.
The fight was soon over, the great heathen army triumphed. Blooded, charcoaled bodies left behind in the battlefield like trash. Useless to them now.
Arianne followed the brothers through the dark woods, Aelle screaming for help as he was dragged along the ground by Ivars chariot. She never once questioned their motives, they were here to avenge Ragnar. Torture would most likely be the Viking way.
Arianne stood by her son when they approached some kind of hole in the dirt. Wooden panels serving as hatch doors. The eeriness of the location brought an uneasy sensation to the Queen. Death lingered through the air.
"What is he saying?" She whispered, Aelle speaking an unfamiliar language to the Ragnarsons.
Ævar leaned down towards his mother, "he is suggesting a price of gold and silver to spare his life" he explained. Arianne only replied with a nod, she knew they would never let him live.
As the night darkened, Aelle suffered the most brutal death imaginable. Just as his god once suffered, he was crucified, nailed down to a wooden cross. Which was only the starter, he was later blood eagled.
Arianne watched the whole thing, though threw most of it she had her head turned in the opposite direction. It was gruesome. His back was tore open, blood splattering over Bjorns face as he smashed through his ribs.
As she was told, a blood eagle was the worst way to die. The torture seemed unbearable, the amount of pain he was in showed its self in his screams. The blood covered the dirt below, his screams dying slowly. His face turned grey, his eyes staring at nothing.
Arianne couldn't bare the sight, the mans guts lay on the ground beside his corpse. It made her more nauseous then during her pregnancy with Ævar. She had to leave.
The Ragnarsons watched the silhouette of the girl disappear back into the darkness of the woods. Her brother swiftly following behind her like a dog. They all had a look of concern, except from Ivar. Who -as usual- had to be different then his siblings.
"And here I thought the dragon princess was supposed to enjoy killing" he smirked, the body of Aelle hanging before the morning son.
Both Hvitsirk and his sons head shot towards the cripple, staring at him angrily. "My mother isn't as evil as you Ivar, she has a heart" Ævar snarled.
"Brother control your spawn" he growled back, his sapphire eyes remaining on his nephew. The pair as close as any family, though Ævar despised his uncle for the remarks he would make against his mother.
Hvitsirk stood silently alongside his brothers, none daring to interfere. Ivar was heartless, Ævar was a switch away for going mad. The pair were a threat. After what Hvitsirk was told by the seer, he debated everyday about what one of his brothers would have a child with Arianne. Which one would be the father of the most feared child in the world?
"Ævar go see if she is okay" Bjorn spoke up.
The boy pulled his gaze from his youngest uncle and towards his oldest. He was about to argue when his eyes fell on his father, who mouthed the word 'now' at him.
Ævar rolled his eyes before taking off down the dirt road. "And Ivar" he began once he was a few meters from them. The brothers turned back towards the boy, his dark hair hanging over his blood stained face. "She's a not a princess. She's a Queen" he finished.
