WRATH OF THE NORTH [BJÖRN IRONSIDE]

EPILOGUE

Smack.

Björn slowly woke up, he rubbed his eyes tiredly before opening them slowly. He frowned when he saw the empty and cold bed beside him. He squinted his eyes when he saw something shining from the glow from the fire on the bed beside him. He reached out and his heart quickly beated when he saw the familiar necklace in his palm. He quickly ripped the blanket of him, seeing her things gone he ran outside.

Smack.

Björn's eyes wandered over everything in Kattegat as she ran through the streets without finding her. He yelled her name over and over again but stopped when he saw the empty spot where they had stayed. He pulled his hands through his messy hair when his mind involuntarily added things together. He ran to his fathers cabin, not bothering to look and his wide eyes met his fathers almost immediately. Ragnar was seated by the fireplace alone, Aslaug and this brothers gone. Björn sucked in a breath when his father eyes told him he knew.

Smack.

The younger sons of Ragnar had been interrupted while eating breakfast by Björn who ran inside with wide eyes which roamed the room. Ivar started to cry loudly and Aslaug tried to calm him. Björn didn't say anything but ran outside again, desperately looking for her even if the look in his father eyes told him the things he didn't want to accept. His brothers ran after him and when they heard Björn calling for Vál they knew she was gone.

Smack.

Björn sat by the main table, drunk and kept pouring down mead down his throat. They had celebrated that the spring had arrived and a new trip to Englad was close. Björn kept silent and not bothering to listen at anyone. Ragnar looked at his son before moving eyes to Lagertha who had arrived a few months earlier to join the raid but who had gotten worried for her broken son by the table.

Smack.

Vál slowly got on her legs, her body aching, covered in sweat and blood from the wooden stick in Vidar's hands. He had been breaking her down for months now, wanting her to remove the last drips of emotions in her body before he could create an assassin of the Norths caliber. Overtime they practiced with the wooden sticks and she slipped he would slap her with the stick. Each time the stick made contact with her body it felt like a memory disappeared. They put her through what they all had experienced to reach greatness. Yet no matter how many times Vidar or anyone else would slap her with the stick a certain grip around her heart never seemed to let go, the memory of Björn Ironside would never disappear. He was burnt into her mind, like the scar, always remaining. His name was burnt to her heart.

THE END.

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SEQUEL IS COMING SOON.

THANK YOU ALL FOR READING, COMMENTING AND VOTING. YOU ARE THE REASON WHY I WRITE.

UPDATE:

There was some issues with publishing this, some have not been able to see the chapter at all while others was faced with a blank chapter. I'm very sorry for this, I don't know what happened. It said it was published for me but when I checked this morning it was put as a draft!