|TREASURE| Game of Thrones

Promise

In the darkness of the night, owls stalked their prey, mice scavenged for scraps and wolves sung to the moon.

In the darkness all secrets erupted from the shadows.

Some enjoyed dancing skin to skin while others swallowed their problems away with ale.

The thing about the Viking men is whether awake or asleep, everything was a challenge, a battle of sorts.

And right now.

Ivars battle dormantly waited for him at home.

Ubbe walked back silently alongside his brother. Occasionally telling him to watch his step over rocks or tree vines.

Eventually, splitting ways, Ubbe eagerly heading home to his problematic yet dear wife.

While Ivar tried his best to rehearse his impending apology to Rhaenella.

Few villagers acknowledging his presence as he limped by, although ignoring them as his thoughts travelled back to the night he broke her heart.

"I am barren."

Her body didn't react as he expected, but her eyes expressed it all. His chest inflamed at the pain he tried his best to hide.

"Barren?"

"Yes barren, do not act stupidly." Venom spilling from his words as she sat beside him, rubbing her hands quietly, sustaining any further questioning.

He waited.

She cleared her throat.

He waited.

And when nothing came, he over flowed with anger.

"Well don't just sit there like an idiot! I am your Husband and King now. Service me."

"We have servants-"

"Yes well I didn't marry them did I?" His hand reached forward to grab hold of her cheeks to move her closer to him as she fought to release her face, "I married you."

"You're hurting me."

Almost in a trance he released her, the shock in both their faces as she stood to move away from him, tears spilling from her eyes as she sobbed to him.

"I married you out of love, admiration and protection. If you wish for me to service you then I will do my best but all I ask of you is to do the same. I am not a servant or commoner for you to harm me. I am your wife, Rhaenella Targaryen. The blood of the Dragon."

And even though she stumbled to comprehensively express her independence with tears staining her beautiful features, shaking from fear and even appalled at the turn of events, she looked breath-taking to Ivar.

His expression softened, taking in every inch of her beautiful face.

He never enjoyed seeing her cry, but he adored watching her claim her title.