Dignity. How could she walk away with such dignity after what he had just said; Ivar watching as she disappeared into the gloom of the night. The youngest son of Ragnar throwing the rest of the pebbles that he had in his hand, into the water, as he let out an angry shout. A part of him had wanted to see her cry, to watch as she fell to her knees and sobbed at his cruel words; to make her feel some of the pain that he felt at the death of his mother. It a way to hurt Lagertha, now that he could not kill her; for by hurting (Y/n), he knew that it would hurt the older woman. That seeing her precious daughter so distraught, it would cut at the new queen's heart. But the bigger part of him couldn't help but curse at himself for every word that his anger and pain had allowed to leave his lips. This bigger part was the one that was making him now hit his useless legs, as tears made their way down his cheeks. Ivar knowing that if he could stand, if he could walk like any other man, he would have run after (Y/n) and begged for her forgiveness; he would have thrown himself to his knees and sworn, that despite what he had just said, he loved her more than he thought he would ever be able to love anyone.

From the moment that she had first come to Kattegat with her mother; Ivar had not been able to take his eyes from the beautiful shieldmaiden, and there had been no mistaking that she was Lagertha's daughter, when he and his brothers had seen her practice. Yet it wasn't just her beauty or her ferocity that attracted him, it was the fact that she didn't treat him like he was different, didn't treat him as though he were a cripple. She enjoyed spending time with him, and they would sit together for many an hour, just talking, away from everyone else. It as if it were just the two of them in the whole of Midgard. Ivar sure that he had never been happier than he was in those moments, or that had been until they had kissed; until he realised that his body was reacting to her gentle touch. That she was making his body work, in ways that no other girl had been able to do. It there by the lake, where they had made love for the first time, where he had first experienced the pleasures of another's body. It then that he knew that he never wanted anyone else to have her; that (Y/n) had to be his......always his. So, when his mother had informed him that he was to marry the daughter of Lagertha, he couldn't hide his pleasure. Especially when he had seen the looks of jealousy from his brothers. Ivar's thoughts going back to the night of the celebration for their match; the pair having long since left all others to the mead and ale, preferring to be together.

"And will we have lots of children........?" He had asked, as he lay in bed with the woman that was soon to be his wife; his head resting on her breast, as she combed her fingers through his hair. The air in the room thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

"Lots......and they will all be big, and strong and brave......and those are just our daughters.........." (Y/n) had replied, laughing as Ivar looked up at her.

"And our sons........our sons will be as big as mountains, and will be the fiercest of warriors. All of them proud to claim that they are the children of Ivar Ragnarsson." She had continued, as she slowly wiped some of the sweat from his brow, before leaning in to kiss him.

"I love you..........." Ivar told her. He not ashamed to say it; not ashamed to declare it for all to hear. The dark prince happy to let his brothers have whatever woman they may want, because no matter who it was, she could never think to compete with the one that was in his arms. The one that would soon be his wife.

"I love you too, Ivar.........I will never love another........." (Y/n) kissing him again, as she moved lower in the bed. Ivar moaning into her mouth, as he felt her hand move over his manhood.

"Again..........?" He asked, as they slowly moved apart.

"If my prince believes that he can........." A laugh leaving her lips, as Ivar had quickly moved his body atop hers. Her legs tightening around him, as he positioned himself between them. (Y/n) joining him in a moan, as his already stiff cock brushed against her womanhood.

"Let's try for a son, first......." He smiled, before he had slowly pushed himself inside her............

Ivar shook his head, brushing away the tears from his eyes, with the heels of his palms. Hating himself for taking out his anger for Lagertha, on her daughter; on the young woman that he loved. Yet it was done now. Pride, anger and the death of Aslaug would mean that there would be no marriage, and he would have to watch as the love of his life turned her affection to another, and he was left alone. He would have to watch, as some unworthy man took what was supposed to be his; and despite wanting to blame Lagertha for all this, he knew that it was he, and he alone that had done this to himself. That he had allowed the actions of her mother, to sway his opinion of her. To find her guilty of a crime that she had no hand in committing. Ivar gripping and tearing at his hair for a moment, wanting to pull it from his head. Yet the pain he was inflicting, did nothing to alleviate the pain in his heart. The young prince finally moving his useless legs and dragging himself and his heavy heart, back along the dock.

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

(Y/n) roused from her sleep; her eyes slowly opening to find the leafy canopy of the woods over her head. The last thing she could remember was the glint of the dagger, as she held it in her hands to her chest; ready to cut at the broken heart that she no longer needed. But then........the shieldmaiden sitting up and looking around her.........then he had been there, preventing her from taking her own life. The pale haired, one-eyed man......Odin. The allfather helping her to her feet and wrapping his large cloak around her, as they made their way deeper into the woods. The god telling her that she must be strong, that her time had not yet come. That she must aid her brother, Björn, in taking his revenge for the death of his father. That she must stand by his side, when the army that would be brought together, would go to England. The tapestry of fate that had been woven for her by the Norns, far from at its end. And that the pain that she felt now, would not last forever. (Y/n) reaching for her dagger and pushing it back into her belt, before slowly getting to her feet and making her way back to town. A new determination filling her with every step; a determination to show Ivar that she did not care if everything had been a lie, for she would not bend, nor would she break. She was a Viking, a shieldmaiden and the daughter of Lagertha, and she would prove it.