CHAPTER 2: INNOCENCE I CANNOT REPLACE

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"How about a game of chess?" You suddenly questioned after minutes the two of you had spent in silence. Ivar looked surprised at your suggestion, yet nodded, grabbing his crutch once more to move to another table. You followed him silently, taking a seat from across him as you started to place the pieces onto the board.

"You don't seem scared of me." He blurted out. You didn't have to raise your eyes to know that he stared at you with a curious look on his face. You shrugged for a second, and when you looked at him he had an anticipating look on his face, as if he was genuinely waiting to hear your response.

"There's only one thing I am scared of, and that is not a man nor a woman." A smirk appeared onto his face which he quickly suppressed. He wanted to ask more, but instead of doing so motioned for you to make the first move of the game.

There had been a slight fear in you before you made the decision to be the hostage instead of your sister Darelle. It had to be someone from the royal family, someone whose death would matter. There wasn't a single person in court who didn't try to change your mind; so many times they tried to make you see reason, tried to make you realize that the queen could not leave her kingdom, especially in the time of crisis as this.

It was your protectiveness over your sister that forced you to be that person. It came down to you or her, and you possibly couldn't force Darelle into the camp of savages. Yet as you sat in a tent with one of the leaders of the Heathen army, they didn't seem as savages like your mother had always told you they were. Your mother had always told you how Ragnar Lothbrok had killed your father just because he wouldn't bow down to Wessex; she installed fear in you ever since you were young, tried to prepare you for a time they would return to England. Your mother knew they would - it didn't matter how many times you questioned her about it, she never told you why she was so sure of it.

You and Ivar were so deep in your own thoughts that neither of you minded the silence. To your surprise it was a comfortable one. There were loud voices from outside the tent, making it obvious there was some kind of celebration or feast going on. A part of you wanted to ask Ivar whether he was going to join or not, but he made no indication of even considering doing so.

Ivar had to admit to himself that you intrigued him. There were not many people who didn't fear him - even his own brothers did - yet you sat against him as if you didn't mind his presence. He wasn't naive to think that was the case; he was an invader to your land along with the chance that tomorrow the two of you could fight against each other. But he had to admit to himself that he liked the peace, even if that peace would last just for one night.

***

You had been twirling your ring around your finger for what seemed for hours - a habit of yours whenever nervousness overtook you. Hvitserk should have been in the camp around sunrise, and he was nowhere to be seen. From the corner of your eye you could see that some of the men were tightly gripping their weapons; Ivar and Ubbe, however, looked calm and patient, Ubbe more so than Ivar.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you heard the loud galloping. The sound indicated that there must have been at least ten people riding towards the camp of the Heathens. You were glad to see that you were right - Hvitserk was the one riding ahead with eleven of your guards right behind him. They were ready for a fight; unsure of the pagan they believed that he was likely to guide them into a trap. They instantly relaxed when they saw you, their queen, safe, although surrounded by an army twice the size as theirs.

You slowly urged your horse forward; for a second your eyes landed on Ivar who was looking at you with an unreadable expression. Ubbe sent you a small nod and even a small smile, deeming it understandable that he was the most reasonable of the group.

"Princess." Hvitserk said as he passed you, the same carefree look on his face like the day before. He didn't give you any chance to say anything, riding straight into the camp while your guards surrounded you as if they were expecting an ambush any minute now.

You felt a sting in your heart when you looked back at the camp, making you doubt your promise to your mother. It was on her deathbed she had made you promise that Essex would forever remain in your family - an outside force would never gain the crown of the kingdom. It was a reasonable thought - if only a deal could be worked out you could save the lives of so many people, the lives of the men you had grown up alongside with.

But you knew it was a foolish thought.

***

"Order everyone to gather their belongings and go to Kent." You commanded to the first guard you met as soon as you were through the gates of your kingdom. He instantly nodded, running off while you were greeted by your sister who instantly wrapped her arms around you.

"Thank God you are alright." She said hugging you, a sign of affection which you didn't return. It was a sign to her that something was off - when she pulled away she saw the worried look on your face.

"Those pagans will attack, Darelle. We need to get as many people away from here as we can." She nodded, stopping in her tracks and letting out a sigh.

"I know they will. He said so." She stated; you didn't have to ask who he was. Hvitserk.

"He knows that you are the queen, Y/N. One of the handmaidens came into the room while we were talking and accidentally addressed me as the princess, and -" Your younger sister stopped when you held your hand up. A part of you felt anger while the other one cursed yourself for letting your younger sister deal with such a delicate matter - making such a simple yet grave error clearly meant she was far too wide-eyed to deal with matters of kingdom.

"It does not matter, Darelle. What matters now is that you get those people into a safe place. Kent will be the safest place for you right now." You explained, not giving a chance for your sister to argue which was clear she wanted to do.

Loud bells suddenly rang, unleashing a chaos in the middle of the kingdom. Villagers running around, clashing almost with the soldiers running towards the gate; archers on the walls ready to fire the invaders. With a quick look to your sister you grabbed your sword - a family heirloom - that your sister had brought to you, and ran to the walls next to your archers.

As they stood on the field, about to attack your precious kingdom, it looked as if there were even more warriors present than you had seen in the camp. It was possible, of course, but now it didn't matter. Your eyes instantly found Ivar's - the man stood in a carriage with a huge smile on his face, Ubbe and Hvitserk next to him with Hvitserk matching Ivar's smile.

Only your God or theirs was present - you could only pray for it to be yours.

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