FLAMES OF DREAMS SERIES: GODS & MONSTERS [READER x IVAR]

CHAPTER 6: OF THESE CHAINS

Your mother had always told you you weren't meant to obey no man.

As you sat in a Heathen's ship, on your way towards another pagan, you wondered whether she had been mistaken. Or perhaps your situation was so dire you had no choice but to obey those men around you. If it was you alone there, you were sure you would have given them hell, not caring what happened to you; but you weren't, and whenever you looked at your younger sister you reminded yourself of that.

You thought it would hurt more - after all, Essex was all you had ever known. Almost eighteen years you had spent in the kingdom, and now it was taken away from you. For the sake of Darelle you promised yourself not to show any sadness, even though your heart wept for your beloved country, and the fact that you would probably never see it once more. You observed every one of your subjects faces before departing; the women of Essex cried for your destiny, and the men prayed for their queen.

There was another Saxon present besides you and your sister. You knew the man was the famous bishop Heahmund, the one who was famous all through the country for his glorious battles and victories. As your eyes observed him you thought to yourself how the two of you were destined to share the same fate - both of you were defeated by the army of Northmen, and were now on your way to their land, forced to leave your motherland behind.

Without saying anything you walked over to the man, alerting your captors. Their eyes followed your every move; you were sure they thought you were about to do something impermissible. Instead, you took off one of your many furs, placing one around Heahmund's shoulders. The man wanted to thank you, but didn't manage to say anything - he was shivering badly and you were sure he would freeze to death. You saw the grateful look in his eyes to which you responded with a small smile before walking back to your original spot beside your sister.

You wouldn't have been surprised if the pagans would have ripped the fur off him the first second you left him. For a while you thought they would do so, yet no one bothered him. You were sure it was because of Ivar; you saw him observing you as if he was scared you'd jump off the ship the second he took his eyes off you. With a wave he dismissed the ones who wanted to make sure that Heahmund's journey to Norway was as unpleasant as possible; because of that, no one even glanced at his direction, and didn't bother him the whole journey to where king Harald was - a journey that everyone else but you, Darelle and Heahmund was looking forward to.

For a while you forgot your tragic future - at the sea you felt free, yet the truth was, you were in chains.

***

Your younger sister clung to your arm when you stepped off the ship. Silently the two of you followed Ivar and Hvitserk, your eyes looking at everything but the two of them. The amount of people glaring at you was overwhelming - it was you who was now an intruder and a pagan in their land.

When you reached the great hall you and your sister were stopped just outside of it. The two brothers entered, and it was not long Heahmund too was brought next to you. The man looked a little better than before, yet comparing to you and your sister it looked as if he had been through hell. You had gained the treatment fit for a royal, and he had gained one worse than an animal did.

It was only at Ivar's command you were forced inside the building. You and Darelle didn't resist - the two of you knew there was no point to it. Heahmund on the other hand had to be dragged inside as he was instantly thrown onto the floor in front of the great king Harald Finehair.

The man on the throne certainly looked as if he was a great leader. Next to him sat a dark haired woman who you could only assume was his wife. Both of them looked as if they belonged on the throne and as if it was made just for the two of them alone.

"Bishop Heahmund." Ivar announced loudly, motioning towards the crouching figure. Harald didn't seem to care much for him; instead he was focused on you and your sister as the two of you stood behind Ivar as well as Heahmund.

"Who are they?" Harald questioned, gesturing towards you and Darelle. From behind you were slightly pushed closer to the king, but it was Ivar who spoke before you had a chance to do so.

"They are from the kingdom of Essex. That is the princess Darelle." He announced, glancing at Darelle before turning his eyes towards you.

"And this is Y/N, former queen of Essex," to answer Harald's confusion, he added: "I plan to marry her."

"Unless one of us dies first." You quickly added with a small sarcastic smile. Harald responded with a laugh while from the corner of your eye you saw Ivar glare at you before turning his attention back to king Harald.

"I like her." Harald announced loudly to which some of his companions nodded in agreement. Ivar could only pretend to smile in gratitude, but he saw the look in Harald's eyes that you didn't. He didn't trust the king not one bit; his pride almost hadn't allowed him to accept his terms of an alliance. And when he observed the glances by king Harald towards your direction, or the little jokes he did to make you feel more welcome in his kingdom, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach - one that he didn't want to admit to himself.

Yet all through the night the feeling didn't leave, and he was forced to spend the hours staring at the ceiling of his room, wondering what was the purpose of the feelings he was having.

Until he finally landed into a peaceful slumber.