(Y/n) ran through the woods, forcing the tears not to fall. She would not cry over Ivar. Would not cry over his words. She would not give him the satisfaction. She was better than that. Stronger than that. It didn't matter who she really was, Floki was her father and Helga her mother; and she loved them. It didn't matter if the boys in the town thought she was ugly, thought she was strange, she didn't care. Her aim was to be the best shieldmaiden that she could be. Even Lagertha stating that she was impressed by how good she already was, how far that she had come with her training. That she would be proud to have (Y/n) fight by her side, the next time that they went on a raid. And that was all that mattered. The daughter of the boat builder not interested in becoming a wife or mother; only in fighting for her king and hoping that one day, she would find herself in the halls of Valhalla. Well.........that was what she told herself. That was what she had tried to convince herself and everyone else around her, was the truth, ever since Ivar had started to be cruel to her. Ever since he had started to break her heart.

She had always cared about Ivar. He was her best friend, even when he grew angry; even when he shouted at her. Even when he would treat her as he had done today, she still cared. But that simple care and affection that had always been there for him, had begun to change into something more, at least on her part. (Y/n) not blind to how he had grown to become not only strong and broad, but also handsome. The shieldmaiden never caring that he couldn't use his legs. Never once thinking that he was any less of a man or a Viking, because he could not walk like others. To her, that was part of what made Ivar, Ivar. Made him the Ivar that she cared for. Made him the Ivar that she loved.

Suddenly she stopped, her shield dropping to her side as she fell to her knees in front of the carving of Odin under which Floki had found her so many years before. The carving to which Floki would often bring her. The young woman finally letting the tears fall as she looked to the allfather. Many years ago, Aslaug had taken her, in secret, to see the seer. The disfigured man telling the young (Y/n), that Odin watched over her. That he favoured her. And one day she would be joined in blood with a man whose name would never be forgotten. A king who would make the world, and heavens shake. (Y/n) looking to Aslaug, who had just smiled at her, and pushed her hair from her face.

She had never spoken about what the seer had said. Never mentioned it, not even to her father and mother. But she had thought about the prophecy often. Had hoped that the old man had meant Ivar. Yet she was coming to believe that that was not the case. Coming to think that she and young Ragnarsson were destined to become little more than enemies.

"Allfather.........please help me. Please show me the way. Please guide me to my destiny. Please bring Ivar back to me." (Y/n) beseeched, as she lay down on the grass beneath the carving and closing her eyes.

                                                          >>---------------------------------<<

Ivar watched Hvitserk and Sigurd disappear, before turning and throwing his dagger into the trunk of the nearest tree. He hadn't meant to be cruel to (Y/n). He never really meant to be cruel to (Y/n). She was his best friend; the only one that he felt that he could truly trust. Who he could be himself with. But more and more his jealousy was making him constantly angry at her.

What he had told her couldn't be further from the truth. (Y/n) had to be the most beautiful girl in Kattegat. And that was the problem. Despite what many still said about Floki's foundling. That she had been left with the carving of Odin as some kind of offering, and Floki taking her, could have made the great god unhappy. That one day her presence in Kattegat would cause some catastrophe, she still drew more than her fair share of attention: attention even from his own brothers. And when Sigurd had started making comment about her, Ivar had felt his blood boil more than usual. He knew that he was taking out his anger on the wrong person. That instead of pushing her away, he should be trying to bring her closer. But given the fact that he had convinced himself that a girl as beautiful, as strong and fierce as she was, would never want him. Would never want to be bound to a cripple, it was difficult now to convince himself of any other possibility. And he was doing this so that when she did find herself a man, his heart didn't break. But given the look of hurt in her eyes when he had told her that no one was interested in her. That there were so many better looking girls in the town, he knew that he would have to say something to her. That he would have to try and get some time alone with her. But given what she had said, he knew that that might be easier said than done. Ivar hoping that Ubbe would be able to find her and persuade her to come to the feast that night. Ivar slowly dropping to the floor and dragging himself back toward his hut.