"We will raid in England again this summer," Björn Ironside announced to the great hall. A cry of celebration arose from the crowd of village members amassed within. "There are plenty of cities left untouched under our good friend King Egbert's rule, and we have a score to settle," he finished ominously. By now, everyone had heard of the slaughter of the settlement on English soil. The roar was reduced to a ringing din of hushed whispers and indignant murmurings.

"Prepare yourselves. We leave in three weeks' time," he concluded. One final shout of agreement from his people and they quickly made their way out of the hall. Those that remained behind held conversations of their own in anticipation of the adventures to come.

"England. Again? There must be a lot of ground we haven't covered yet," Sigurd offered to his brothers Hvitserk, Ivar, and Ubbe. They didn't know I was in the next room over, in Queen Aslaug's chambers, weaving her next blanket for the frigid winter on the standing rack. I hummed a tune of the saga of their father's, King Ragnar Lothbrok's, exploits in Francia as a way to keep my mind occupied. Despite the fascinating topic they discussed, it would not be my place to insert myself.

"Of course there's a lot of ground to be covered. We've only tried one of the many kingdoms. There's Northumbria, Mercia, Dubhlinn. When we think we've reached the end, there's always more. Like weeds, these Christians!" Ivar spat in contempt.

"How many times does that make it now that we've gone across the sea? Three?" Ubbe noted.

"What does that matter? We will go again and again until we've robbed them of their holy land," Ivar replied hotly.

"I only say this because Njord has favored us so over our last however many journeys. How many more times can we expect to make the crossing without serious issues? The gods are always changing their minds when it comes to how they feel about us. Look at what they did to father…" Ubbe trailed off.

"You want to garner their favor so badly, you should go to Uppsala to make proper sacrifice. We'll be here when you get back with all of our treasures from the English. I'll save you a candlestick," Ivar joked with a wry smirk. I knew it wasn't my place to get involved in their conversation, but I couldn't hold back any longer. I had been gone for so long, and my need to interact with them became too much to bear.

"I've noticed with the winds that if they blow toward the setting sun, they always bring a great storm. But when the blow away from the setting sun, the skies are clear for days. Does that have any bearing upon your travels?" I asked Ubbe from behind the curtain separating the rooms.

"Is that you, Hel? Come here! I can't see your face. You've been gone too long," he ignored my question. I pulled the leather aside and let it fall behind me. I smoothed my plain blue dress in mock discomfort. I was disarming them before the conversation even began, a tactic I had learned some years ago. When I looked back up, the boys had various forms of a charmed smile on their faces. All except him. Ivar. He never had a pleasant gesture to spare me, or anyone for that matter. I was used to it by now.

"Hello, boys. How have the fearless Ragnarsons been? I feel like we haven't spoken in a lifetime! Tell me about this English conundrum," I opened warmly. Even though I kept these young men at a distance, they were still like brothers to me. We grew up together, played together. Aslaug practically raised me while my father was away raiding with Ragnar. Really, Siggy raised me. She, with the help of Floki, taught me the ways of politics and gods.

I settled myself amongst them on the wooden benches.

"You see us as we normally are: arguing away our youth. Come, tell us of your time with Earl Kalf. What did you learn?" Ubbe jovially offered. I had only just recently returned from the distant earldom; not many people knew I was back yet or what had transpired there for that matter. Now seemed as good a time as any to share my experiences from the past year or so away from Kattegat.

"Well, I watched the shieldmaiden Lagertha stab him to death to reclaim her earldom, so there's that," I spoke dryly, only a small hint of amusement in my eye. Death was part of my people and our culture—who was I to be afraid of it? In reality, watching Earl Kalf die was more of a reaffirmation of Lagertha's strength in my eyes. She was a fearsome woman and I could do naught but admire her for it.

Ivar, as was his overbearing nature, took the opportunity to pounce, "And tell us, Hel, Daughter of Mischief, were you afraid?" He always referred to the significance of my moniker as if it were something to be ashamed of.

"You know as well as I, Ivar the Witless, that if Loki were truly my father, I wouldn't deign to waste my time with mere mortals like you, no offense, boys," I made sure to cast spirited glances at the other men who shared my good humor. "As for Earl Kalf's death… It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen…" I trailed off, recalling the faint kiss they shared in his dying breath. I wasn't supposed to see it, just like I wasn't supposed to see a lot of things, but that never stopped me. I looked back up to my companions. I had thought Ivar would defend himself vehemently against being called witless, especially considering how incredibly smart he actually was, but instead he simply looked at me. He looked at me differently than he ever had before in our shared seventeen years of life. It was an appraising stare as if he had only just realized I existed for the first time. Shame. I've been here all along. And not sitting idle, that's for sure. I was certainly much more lethal than he gave me credit for, or even knew of. He would never know, unless I chose to show him, and that was just about the most impossible thing that would ever come to pass. He and I didn't share things.

The rest of the brothers apparently found my description confusing. Oh well, it wasn't their death to share. I would keep the details for myself.

"Oh, boys! Let us talk of more exciting things. Tell me of your last raid. I must hear everything!" I allowed them to talk at length of their recent trip to the land of Egbert. This is how I liked to see my friends, chattering away about the things that mattered most to them. Their eyes lit up, they smiled genuinely, and they seemed to drop the burden of being the missing King's sons.

We all talked and yelled and laughed and mended our distant friendship. Everyone, that is, except Ivar. He uttered not a single word and only moved to take drinks from his cup from time to time.

He eyes remained upon me—unmoving, unblinking, transfixed.

The party held that night in the great hall was not in my honor, but I liked to pretend that it was. It was certainly a perfect reason to over imbibe on the ale, and what good ale it was. My people and my home were the same as they had always been. It was good to be here.

Reminiscing with my friends had been a wonderful welcome back to Kattegat minus Ivar's grilling scrutiny. Indeed, such was his way, and it had proved that he had not changed a bit in my time away. I could never fault him for it. He was always thinking, that boy. He seemed to be in different spirits this night, however, as he freely conversed and joked with the rest of the warriors. He never had an issue gaining their respect for what he lacked in his ability to walk, he made up for in the strength of his upper body. He could shoot the strongest of bows with little thought, bows that only the mightiest of the village men could sling, pull, and release with difficulty. But enough of him. He was not my focus that night. Or any night. I needed to learn to collect my thoughts. Siggy taught me better than this.

By my second cup of ale, I felt a warmth rush through my body from my cheeks downward, and there was a distinct burning in my belly. Gods, I was drunk already? That was quick. It made sense considering I hadn't touched any spirits the entire length of my stay with Earl Kalf and Lagertha. I had needed to keep my head straight around strangers. Here I felt I was entitled to at least one night of merriment.

'It's that sort of thinking that will get you killed,' I felt more than heard a voice say. It sounded almost like Siggy, only weaker. Less tangible. Is that what a conscience sounded like?

At that point, I didn't frankly care. I marched myself over to the barrel to refill my cup with the source of my internal conflict. If I couldn't even agree with my inner self, then I would simply have to drown her out.

'To Hel with me!' I thought indignantly and tipped my full mug back. I refused to breathe until the contents were completely gone. My lungs burned and my head ached, but I couldn't stop. A tiny bit at the bottom of the mug sat taunting me. With one final, painful gulp, I finished the wretched drink, lifted my head, and used my sleeve to wipe away a few stray drops from my mouth.

It was then that I realized the hall and all its inhabitants were focused on me. It appeared the 'Hel' comment wasn't as self-contained as originally anticipated. And judging from the fact that every single person was focused on my actions, it had been none too quiet as well. My eyes grew wide as I realized the hilarity of the situation I was in. Oh, ale, you sweet, godly drink. Laughter erupted from my throat, loud and haughty.

"Yea!" the hall let out a loud yell of approval. This only served to make me laugh even harder, and I was joined by a few of my closer neighbors. They understood that this was what we did. We were good people who drank and shared a holy, ancient camaraderie regardless of station or sex. Gods, how I had missed them.

The man who stood closest to me turned out to be Hvitserk—he grabbed me around the around the shoulders and pulled me into the group of men he sat at the table with. It was unusual to find him here. I could see Björn, Ubbe, Sigurd, and Ivar centered around the middle table nearest the roaring fire as was their place being the sons of the absent King. I adopted as serious a stance as I could manage with my hands on my hips and my head held aloft, although I must say, it did bob a little.

"What are you doing here, Hvite? Why have you abandoned your brothers in their hour of need? Drinking is no game, man!" He seemed slightly surprised until he realized I was giving him a go of it.

"No game, indeed! How could I be expected to remain at the side of such a dreary lot? You seemed like much more fun. Speaking of which, that was quite a show you put on back there," he jested.

"Even the daughter of Loki has a reputation to uphold, I am merely aiding in her endeavors. My namesake should be proud of my abilities!" I referred to the deity as if we were old friends. Hvitserk gave a bark of a laugh.

My name had always been a source of tension, as all Northmen know that one's name is their legacy. Hel was the daughter of the God of Mischief and a giantess named Angrboða. She took the souls of the dead and kept them in her domain known also as Hel. Our name means "hidden" because although she is known as a beauty, she has the secrets of the dead crawling underneath her skin, which would surely make for an ugly portrait. Many of the village children avoided me as a growing girl because they believed I would bring death upon them. Not the Ragnarsons.

"Here, sister," he handed me a full flagon, "I will not hold you back. Drink up!" He did not have to urge me more than once. I took three hearty chugs before I handed it back to him. Just as his fingers closed around the neck of the vessel, I pulled it back one more time for a sneaky fourth. He chuckled at my antics.

"I'm done this time. I promise," I assured him. He removed the flagon from my hands and began to down it himself. By now, my vision had become a bit jolted and it was becoming harder for me to keep up with regular conversation. I needed some fresh air.

"Excuse me, Sir. Your entertainment needs a bit of a break," I announced to Hvitserk and his circle. Some acknowledged with a series of grunts while others raised their cups to me.

I knew I had to take my time exiting the building in order to avoid making a further spectacle of myself, so I picked my way through the crowd as carefully as possible. It was no small feat. I almost fell at least a dozen times only to be caught by some unsuspecting warrior or my own lackadaisical balance. I passed through the archway of the hall onto the front landing where I was greeted by the dark night full of shining stars. I couldn't look down as I descended the steps for I was too intent upon the glimmering lights of the pitch black sky.

I should have—I put my full weight down on solid ground where I thought there should be one more step and threw myself completely off balance. I spun around and clawed at the air as the ground rushed up to meet my face in a most painful greeting. What the—? I lay there sprawled on all fours with my bum in the air and my face in the dirt.

A howl of laughter rose up from within me before I could fully realize what had just happened. I couldn't make sense of it, and when I did, it only further reduced me into a struggling pile of giggles. What an ass I was! I couldn't walk two steps without hurting myself. I was definitely never drinking again. It wasn't safe—for me or anyone else.

Once I had composed myself to distinguish up from down, I rolled over onto my back to continue stargazing from my much safer position (as close to the ground as I could get). It was truly beautiful. Mostly because I was drunk and the stars looked like this every night, but it was beautiful just the same.

Somewhere in my amazed stupor, I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye originating near the great hall. This movement was different. It wasn't the topsy turvy movement that one sees when drunk. It was solid. Something was actually moving toward me. I sat up entirely too fast to help me make sense of the figure making its way at me. If anything, that made it much worse. The world was practically jumping around me now and this black mass was joining in the dance. I put my hands firmly on the ground behind me to keep myself upright.

My irrational mind pictured a rogue bear picking me up in its harsh, uncaring jaws and dragging me away to be devoured. But it couldn't be a bear, it was too low to the ground, and it looked like it was slithering. A snake? At this time of night? Oh, Gods, why a snake?

I brought my hands to my face in defense of whatever it was that was going to kill me, which immediately took away any semblance of balance I had just gained. I fell back down again as I pitifully yelled,

"No, snake!"

I lay still for a breath.

"You thought I was a snake?" a voice contemptuously asked. A person!

"Who is that?" I questioned, slightly relieved.

"Who do you think it is? And really, a snake?" the voice, clearly male, was becoming more and more agitated. That was easy to guess: Ivar. Everything came together all at once and I was left laughing yet again. I was out of control.

"I'm so—sorry—I just—I panicked," I gasped between bouts. What a useless brain was mine to think a human being could be a snake. Granted, he did slither...

"You obviously had more ale than you should have. You've lost your mind," he chided while turning to rejoin the festivities. He was no longer interested in wasting his time with someone so drunk.

"Why are you so dour?" I asked out of pure frustration. Such was his treatment of me every time we spoke. If he only knew what I could do, what I had spent years learning how to do, he would hold me as an equal in most respects. But no, he sat there in his ignorance and chose to ridicule me instead.

"Dour?" he rotated back to me as he repeated my term.

"Yes, dour. Grim. Sour. Hard-faced. You are familiar with the term now?" I mocked him.

"I know what it means. How could I not? You think I am stupid, and yet, look at how you act," he referred to my earlier performance in the hall.

Siggy had taught me that any form of attention was better than no attention when it came to manipulating men, as their tempers were quick and easy to influence. Ivar's attention was focused entirely upon me. I had him where I wanted him even if he wasn't in the best of moods. I had only to change his understanding of me from that of an annoyance to a useful ally. It would take time, but it had to be done.

Ivar was going to achieve great things. Anyone could see that. Compared to his brothers, he was cunning, resourceful, and ruthless. His only limits were those he could imagine for himself. I wanted to be there for it all and share in the exploits of his triumphs. It was written in the stars before we were born. I did not need the spotlight with him; I simply needed him to include me in his plans for the future. I could help him—help our people—if only he gave me the opportunity to demonstrate my skills. I changed my tactic,

"You are right. That was foolish of me," I could immediately see the effect my words had on his countenance. His eyes widened in surprise. Never in a million years would I ever have anything polite to say to Ivar the Boneless. Apparently, we had reached the end of our one million years at this moment, "I do not think you are stupid. You are clearly the most intelligent of all of your brothers—all your relations for that matter. I make fun of you so that hopefully you remember that you are one of us lowly creatures," I paused, adding a coquettish little laugh to the end of my statement. I would win him over in no time if he were like every other man that I had spent years practicing on. He looked frozen in place, not out of fear, but out of shock. I used this as an opportunity to move closer to him as I continued,

"Ivar, surely you can forgive me for what I have done to you all these years?" At this point, my face was in front of his separated by only a few inches. I was amazed at the self-control I possessed in my still slightly drunken state. I looked up into his eyes to await his reaction. All at once, he seemed to remember himself. His eyes returned to their usual condescending look and his face became hard. Ivar was not like most men. I knew this. He backed away at least a foot before he responded.

"You can stop your acting now, you are not very good at it." Damn that wit of his. Well, I had two choices at this point: play at being dumb or simply be honest.

"What gave me away?" I asked sardonically with the smallest of smirks. His face broke out into a sour smile tinged with victory.

"You were acting like you liked me."

"Yes…I should've known you'd see right through that…" He narrowed his eyes in discernment though the smile stayed in place. He seemed fascinated by the fact that I had just tried to fool him. He had never seen me act dishonestly before. That is what my life had become, and he had just gotten a mere taste of it. Though I wanted to be of service to him, I couldn't give away the end game. The best part of telling someone what to do is when they believe it is their idea in the first place. I would have to come up with a new plan altogether, something to match this man's intellect and make him see what I wanted him to.

"Why do you act like this?" he demanded. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't going to tell him anytime soon.

"If you don't mind, EE-var, there are some things I wish to keep to myself," I taunted him using a given name of old. The effect was immediate as his entire countenance switched from one of intense curiosity to barely-concealed disgust.

"Well, I don't care what you prefer," his voice lilted as he cocked his head in a show of dominance, "I will figure it out. You know that I will."

"You will not figure out anything I don't intend for you to, so do not waste your time." His interest only piqued at my statement.

Through a determined smile he uttered,

"You always were an insolent little girl."

"Shut your mouth. I'm just as old as you. If you're going to insult me, make it true," I paused to regain my wits, "Now, as much as I enjoy your company, I must be going. I need to sober up, and I cannot do that around you. You only help to muddle my head even more. Goodnight, Ivar." I rolled onto my stomach to push myself up into a squatting position and then stood slowly to my feet. As I walked away from him, I heard him speak in a caressing tone,

"I will figure it out. You will see."