They'd never been so alike.

Brynhildr and Ivar had had many differences apparent from the moment their personalities began to shine. It kept them from being close. Yet now, they were the only two who seemed to feel the exact same way. The ones who grieved Ragnar in kind, who had a desire to avenge their mother in a way the others did not.

They sat together on the banks of the river as Ubbe and Sigurd bathed, both whispering to each other. Lagertha's shield-maidens guarded them, as if worried they'd run away. Brynhildr was quiet, staring at the edge of the water, sharpening her blades and imagining each one finding their way into Lagertha's skull. She surmised what Ubbe and Sigurd must be worrying about; Lagertha no longer had reason to keep them alive if their father was dead. She might've loved Ragnar but she apparently hated Aslaug, and each one of them was a threat to her claim on the throne of Kattegat the longer they remained alive.

She carried Ivar up into the mountains, where they'd helped their father dig up his treasures. While he sobbed and yelled into the sky, she lay on the grass with her hands tucked behind her head, thinking over and over about Lagertha's death. The woman she once admired now a woman she wished to put down for good. She thought of the invasion they'd launch on Northumbria, the torture they'd inflict on King Aelle and later, King Ecbert.

When they'd both grown tired of their own anger, she carried Ivar back to their new hut and was made to follow Ubbe and Sigurd to the throne room, where Lagertha was going to be giving an announcement. She stood at the front with her brothers, glaring at Lagertha as she passed, her shield-maidens following close behind her. One was a girl that'd come with Lagertha, named Astrid, and the other was Torvi, Bjorn's companion. Brynhildr imagined she could kill them both with ease.

The crowd cheered as Lagertha strode toward the throne and planted herself down on it. She didn't seem at all concerned about how Ubbe, Sigurd, and Brynhildr stared at her. She sat so comfortably on the throne, the same one Aslaug had never even dared to sit on while still keeping Kattegat afloat in Ragnar's absence. Brynhildr could not claim her mother to have been a good Queen or even a good parent, but for all her faults, it was because of her that Kattegat became what it was in the first place.

"Today," said Lagertha, "marks a new dawn for Kattegat. For all of us. We do not know King Ragnar's fate, or whether he will ever return. You've not been ruled properly for a long time, and many things have been neglected. Kattegat has changed so much in the last few years. It has grown and flourished. By all accounts, it is now the largest, richest trading center in Norway. Which means that others are bound to be envious of our success. And they must look at us and wonder why we make so little effort to protect ourselves. It is my belief that we should begin to build fortifications, ditches, and palisades around this site. And it is my hope, as your Queen, that everyone, men, women, and children, the fit and the wounded, will contribute to this great work."

She rose. "Those who share my belief, say 'aye.'"

Practically everyone in the hall called 'aye' firmly. Brynhildr's lips did not move, nor did her brothers'. The crowd suddenly began to part, and Brynhildr turned at the familiar sound of Ivar's firm taps against the ground when he was crawling in this same room. The thuds sounded firm as he used picks to propel himself toward Lagertha. Ubbe and Sigurd watched as he lifted himself onto a small stool that separated the crowd from the Queen.

"Welcome, Ivar," said Lagertha patronizingly.

"I've come here for justice," he demanded. "Everyone knows that you killed my mother for no reason, except ambition. Therefore, I demand justice."

Ubbe tried to stop him with a hand on his shoulder. "Ivar–"

"Don't touch me, coward," snapped Ivar at the same time that Brynhildr pushed Ubbe away and stood beside Ivar, joining him in facing up at the Usurper.

"He is not a coward," said Lagertha, stepping down from the throne to stand in front of them. She furrowed her brows in mock concern, looking at them pitifully. She must not have taken them seriously, a girl of sixteen and a boy of seventeen, one unproven to the masses in battle and the other a cripple. She placed one hand on Brynhildr's shoulder, the other on Ivar's. "But perhaps he understands some things that you don't."

"We're not children, Lagertha," said Brynhildr curtly. "We understand perfectly well that you killed our mother after she asked for safe passage. She was no threat to you and you still murdered her in cold blood. You had what you wanted and you couldn't let her live. That doesn't make you a woman who took back what was 'taken' from her. That makes you a Queenkiller."

Lagertha's hands dropped. Ivar seethed, "We want revenge. I challenge you to single combat."

"Ivar," said Brynhildr lowly. If anyone should be doing this, it certainly wasn't him.

Lagertha raised a brow. "I refuse."

"You can't refuse."

"I refuse to fight you," called Lagertha, "Ivar Lothbrok, son of Ragnar."

The crowd murmured in interest as Lagertha returned to her throne. "Why?" demanded Ivar. "Huh? If you will not fight me, then I am sure you will fight my sister."

"I don't want to kill either of you," said Lagertha.

Brynhildr snorted. "And you believe that would happen? Who says you would kill us?"

"I do," said Lagertha quietly.

Ivar smirked. "All right. Don't fight us then. I don't care. Just as long as you know that one day, one of us will kill you, Lagertha. Your fate is fixed." He slid off his stool and began to crawl away, followed close by Brynhildr. She cared not what Lagertha would continue to say.

Once exiting the hall, she continued on her own to the hut of their oracle, a seer she'd never dared to visit, believing her mother's prophecy had been all she cared to hear of her fate. Yet, now, she wanted an assurance of what she'd become without her mother here to guide her. Without her father to warn her about how the paths she didn't seize might prevent her from reaching her destiny.

She swept into the hut, shutting the door to behold the black-cloaked figure she'd heard tell of. He was severely deformed, eyes looking as though they were sewn shut. His voice was gruff as he called out, "Daughter of Ragnar. You come to me at last."

She sat herself down across from him. "I've much anger," she admitted. "I know of a path for me but cannot see a way forward that does not involve blood. I need guidance. I need to know what will become of me."

"Will you not become what you believe you are meant to?" he questioned.

"My mother said I would leave my family behind," said Brynhildr. "I'd find myself in a land the Vikings would never touch. I'd bear a great burden and hold in my fingers the end of a dynasty. My name would not be famous but my words would be powerful enough to change history."

"This prophecy comes from a place far from the eyes of the gods," said the Seer. "It will come to pass because you've accepted your mother's words as truth. Won't the truth be so?"

"And what of the truths I know nothing of? Of what happens here, in the only part that I exist. What of the mark I will make here before I go? Will it exist at all?"

"Many marks are made," said the Seer, "many disappear and many linger. You'll linger so long as those with memory do."

She wasn't sure she understood. "So... I will make an impact here, contrary to what my mother believed. Will I avenge my father?"

"You'll see the rats feast in celebration of his name."

Brynhildr assumed that meant 'yes.' "And... my mother. Will I avenge my mother?"

"You'll be the only one able to say her name with pride."

That sounded like it could mean 'yes' as well. "Does that mean I will become a Queenkiller?"

His painted, cracked, and damaged lips curled upwards, "You will kill a King and raise another. You will kill a Queen and raise another."

"Thank you, O wise one," she whispered. "You've guided me greatly."

She took this to mean that she'd avenge her father and mother, and only then find her way to this new path she believed existed for her. If this was so, if she'd kill Lagertha, then surely she'd be remembered here. But it most likely meant she could not stay to bask in it. She'd have to leave her family behind... that included Bjorn. Bjorn, who would come for her if she killed his mother.

She considered she wasn't entirely afraid of Bjorn. She admired him but didn't respect him much, especially not now that his mother was a usurper. It might be seen as cowardly to seize her fate the moment she killed Lagertha, as it would avoid Bjorn's retribution, yet she considered that it only meant she'd done what she was meant to do here. Then, she'd find a new responsibility. This dynasty she'd hold in her hands. Surely it wasn't the dynasty here in Kattegat. Unless, of course, the Seer meant she'd become the Queen herself.

The next day, Brynhildr had carried Ivar to the forges. He insisted he had an idea for a new project, and chose to remain stuck with the blacksmiths while Brynhildr was put to work with the other people in Kattegat, building the fortifications Lagertha mentioned. She took it as a way to become stronger, to find the weaknesses in these walls that'd be erected, so she could one day tear them down and stride to Lagertha with a sword in her hand.

About a week later, a man came to stand beside her while she chopped wood with her ax, arms aching and bringing her the image of chopping Lagertha to bits. She came to a stop, wiping her brow when the grey-haired man tilted his head, a bloody and empty eye socket directed her way. She froze, recognizing the image of Odin. He spoke lowly, "Brynhildr. Your father is dead. Killed by serpents. Cold in the cold, iron earth, Ragnar lies. How the little pigs will grunt when they hear how the old boar suffered." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder then stepped away. As he stepped into the line of trees, he was gone.

And so she knew the deed had been done. She'd gone to the forges to fetch Ivar, who claimed the same man had spoken to him already. She carried him on her back to their hut, where Ubbe and Sigurd waited with similar experiences. They'd sat together, quiet at first, Sigurd carving wood in the doorway and Ubbe drinking with his sister.

"That is my knife," noticed Ivar at last, nodding toward Sigurd.

He came in, closing the door. "No, it is not."

"Give it to me," insisted Ivar.

"You're crazy," said Sigurd. "It's not your knife. Father gave me this knife."

"We ought to be talking about what was said to us," said Brynhildr sharply. "Not arguing about who a knife belongs to."

"We'll talk about Father," promised Ivar, slinking out of his seat and crawling towards Sigurd. "Once Sigurd gives me the knife. I want it. I will kill Lagertha with it. I will kill Lagertha with Father's knife."

Sigurd shrugged, moving to a stool. "Well, you can't have it."

"That's enough, both of you," said Ubbe sharply. "Brynhildr is right. We must discuss what this man told us all."

Ivar ripped the stool out from under Sigurd, knocking him to the floor. He began wrestling with him for the knife, leaving Brynhildr and Ubbe to rip them away. "We have important decisions to make," snapped Ubbe in Sigurd's face, pulling him to his feet.

"As usual, you must tell us how to behave!" retorted Sigurd. Brynhildr pulled Ivar to sit at the table again, and he swatted her hand away, making her smack the back of his head.

"Who else would do it?" demanded Ubbe. "I wish Bjorn was here."

Sigurd rubbed his wrists, annoyed that Ivar had managed to snatch the knife away. "You think he knows about Father?"

"Oh, so, you think that Odin told us, but forgot to tell Bjorn?" asked Ivar snarkily. "Hmm?"

"I think Bjorn and Hvitserk know," said Brynhildr. "I pray they return soon so we may return to Northumbria immediately."

"In the meantime, it is up to us to decide what to do," said Ubbe.

Ivar heaved a bored sigh. "I'm listening. Say something interesting."

"You heard what he said," said Ubbe. "How the little pigs will grunt when they hear how the old boar suffered."

"So, now we're grunting," said Ivar. "So what?"

"We want blood-revenge against Aelle, hmm?" said Ubbe.

"Against Ecbert, too," said Brynhildr. "We go after Aelle first but we told you that King Ecbert sent our father to Aelle. Our father told us both that he wanted us to enact our revenge on Ecbert, because of the settlement."

"Aelle has a small kingdom, but Ecbert's kingdom is vast," argued Ubbe, eyes tracing over Ivar, who began to crawl out of the hut. "How do we overcome that when we have never attempted anything like that before?"

Sigurd shrugged, "We raise an army."

Ubbe shook his head. "No, you're not listening, brother."

Sigurd clarified, "We raise a great army. An army bigger than ever before."

Ivar stopped before he could exit the hut. "Sigurd is right. We call in favors. We do deals with Kings and Earls that we hate. Whatever we have to promise them, we promise. And in the end, we assemble an army twice the size of the army our father took to Paris."

Brynhildr agreed. "And in the name of Ragnar Lothbrok and Odin, we declare war on England."

"No, sister," said Ivar. "We declare war on the whole world."

She leaned back in her seat. "Then all that is left is to wait for Bjorn and Hvitserk to return. Together, all the children of Ragnar, we will raise this army."

The weeks began to pass with their preparations made, envoys sent to the Earls and Jarls they would need aid from. Brynhildr kept at her work on the walls of Kattegat, focusing more on buffing up for the journey and keeping Lagertha close under her watch. She hoped that Lagertha would fall, that she'd be able to enact her revenge before they left, though Sigurd claimed it a bad idea.

She started to make note of which shield-maidens were stronger than others. What their weak points were, which of them were furthest and closest to Lagertha. She'd speak of this with Ivar each night, and it seemed to helped them both go to sleep. Ivar told her that no matter what Sigurd said, he would be making a plan for them to enact before they left to avenge Ragnar.

"I will become King of Kattegat," said Ivar, staring up at the ceiling as she massaged her legs, tired of the day's work. "Yet the Seer told you that you'd raise a Queen."

"I do not know if he meant here or there," she murmured. "I think he meant there. If you wish to be King, be King. All I want is for Lagertha to die."

"I will be King," he assured her. "And, I think, until I find a wife, you will rule at my side. Two children of Ragnar Lothbrok, the ones who went with him to England when the others did not."

She raised a brow. "You'd... be willing to accept that? Us to rule as equals?"

He was quiet. "We understand each other more now. I did not respect your strength until our father showed me the truth. And... if it is true that I cannot have children... then you must be near the throne. Together with our spouses, we will prepare your sons and daughters to rule after us."

"I am glad you have thought of this," said Brynhildr. "Ubbe and Sigurd have not done enough. Bjorn does not deserve it. Hvitserk, well, he simply isn't here. But I think he'd share our thoughts that we must see an end to Lagertha's reign. All our brothers underestimate the two of us, but our mother never really did. I cannot claim that she was the one I cared for most, but she was our mother. And Lagertha killed her. She will suffer for it and no one will underestimate us again."

"Yes," said Ivar. "We will see the end of it. The Seer told you that you'd kill her. And so we will."

She hoped for their sakes that this reign ended soon. Perhaps not before they left for England, but soon. Sigurd and Ivar had had quite the argument in the forges because of their different opinions in this plot for revenge. Sigurd had apparently mocked Ivar for having been breastfed for so long. Brynhildr didn't care about that, just as she didn't care for the type of mother Aslaug had been. All that mattered was that no slight against her blood was going to be forgotten.

Allies began to arrive soon after. They held a feast for the first to come, Earl Jorgensen of Sweden. It was here that Ivar chose for them to make their first attempt on Lagertha's life. Brynhildr's notes about her shield-maidens had come in handy, allowing Ivar to gather men loyal to them and strategically placing them in charge of holding each shield-maiden (and Sigurd, even) with a knife to their throats, strengths matched.

Brynhildr ate calmly, following Ubbe around as they greeted their guests. Ivar's entrance was the signal for their men to begin moving, guards of their own replacing the shield-maidens within and outside the hall. Brynhildr slinked toward Ivar once the doors began to close, the crowd clearing once their men leapt at Sigurd and the shield-maidens.

Ubbe walked with his ax held out, Brynhildr with her sword, Ivar dragged himself forward with his picks. Lagertha stood from her throne, looking around at the shield-maidens that had knives to their throats. She reached for a sword gifted to her by Earl Jorgensen, and strode toward them.

Brynhildr stepped forward first, holding her sword toward Lagertha. "Do you still believe you'll live, Lagertha?"

The doors burst open behind them. Brynhildr did not turn, believing it a distraction, but she felt Ubbe step aside. Lagertha's face relaxed, and she heard Bjorn say, "If you kill her, my siblings, you'll have to kill me, too."

Brynhildr still did not face him, reaching into her belt to hold her knife in her other hand. "Then we'll kill you, Bjorn. And test if your sides really are made of iron."

"Shut up," said Ubbe, motioning for her and Ivar to be quiet. To Bjorn, he said, "She killed our mother."

"I know," said Bjorn. "You want revenge. So would I. But more importantly, we have to avenge our father. That is why I came back. And that is what we are going to do."

Lagertha smiled in satisfaction, tossing her sword at Ivar's hands. Ubbe lowered his ax, but it took Bjorn's hands on both of Brynhildr's shoulders to force her to tuck her weapons away. She turned on her heel, sneering up at her brother, "You are not my father. You do not tell me what to do."

"No, you are right," said Bjorn. "I am not your father. And as such, I can kill you if you do not do as I ask."

"Mineri," called Hvitserk, stepping out behind him. "Stand down."

Only for him, she stepped aside, striding out of the hall angrily, Ivar tight at her heels. She left her brother to find his own way back to the hut, walking up to the forest angrily and beating her ax into the nearest tree until she'd finally tired enough to find sleep.

Hvitserk scolded her the next morning, telling her that he, like Sigurd, did not believe it necessary to kill Lagertha. She'd fumed angrily, the two of them and Ubbe more concerned with a now-freed Margrethe and the fact Ubbe wanted to marry her. They were selfish, all of them. It seemed the only brother she could rely on now was Ivar.

"Mineri," said Hvitserk, following her as she stormed away. "Mineri, wait for me."

"I cannot believe you all!" said Brynhildr. "Our mother was killed and you will not avenge her?"

"Ubbe and I fell into the ice because of her," he argued. "Uncle Rollo's wife Siggy died saving us. Sigurd found little Siggy drowned because our mother wasn't watching her. All she cared about is Ivar. She did not raise you, Mineri. Floki and Helga did. I did. Why do you defend her?"

"I don't care that she did not love me. That her care for me amounted only to her prophecy and otherwise, she let me be Floki and Helga's problem. She still birthed me. She still asked for safe passage and Lagertha dishonored her. Ivar grieves her deeply and I grieve for his loss. You may all make fun of him and fear him, but Ivar was with me when we followed Father to England. I know how much this would mean to him and I know that I cannot stand by while my blood is made a mockery of. If we do not avenge her, we are weak."

"Then avenge her," said Hvitserk. "After we avenge Father. Take pause and kill men in battle first. You'll not kill Lagertha as you are now. She is stronger than you, Mineri. She will send you to Valhalla before she sends you to the destiny Mother saw for you."

Brynhildr tried to slip away, but he caught her arm. "I understand why you might feel you have to avenge Mother," he continued. "She gave you your destiny and you feel you'd be ungrateful to let her die unavenged. She gave you your life and you wish to pay her back for it. But she is not worth your death."

"You would be," she whispered. "I'd be willing to do this for you, for Sigurd, for Ivar, for Ubbe, for Floki and Helga, even for Bjorn if someone had done this. I'd defend you all fiercely, as fiercely as I am now in the defense of Father and Mother. I would die for any of you if you'd been dishonored. That is what you all mean to me regardless of how I have been hurt by the choices you made. I cannot hold things against Mother until I've appreciated her enough to see her killer burned. Only after I've killed Lagertha can I hate Aslaug Sigurdsdottir, because at least then, no matter what I feel, I will not be dishonoring my mother... I'll be seeing her as she was."

He stepped away, though his look was mournful. "I worry for you, Mineri. I don't want this plotting to be your end."

"It won't be, Hvitserk. Do not hold me back."

She passed by Bjorn's house on the way to look for Ivar in the forges. She heard him yelling at Torvi, insisting she not tell him what to do, and she heard his children crying in fear. Bjorn irked her more and more as the years passed. Believing he had authority over her and her brothers, believing he had a claim to every woman he found pretty.

She found Ivar in the forges and asked him if he'd like to come with her to see Floki and Helga now that they'd returned from their adventure. He agreed, the two finding them in their hut with a young, dark-skinned girl with deep brown curls.

"Who's this?" asked Ivar, gesturing to the girl as Helga caressed her shoulder.

"Her name is Tanaruz," said Helga happily, smiling at the girl.

"Oh, so you brought her back?" said Ivar. "She'll make a good slave, I'm sure."

Helga frowned. "She is not a slave. We are adopting her. She is my child."

Ivar, Floki, and Brynhildr shared a confused look. Ivar reached out toward Tanaruz, who flinched and immediately tried to run away. "Let's see. I won't hurt you," he said, though the girl still flailed and began to scream. Helga opted to lead her out of the cabin instead. Brynhildr glared at Ivar, annoyed he'd ruined Helga's happiness.

Floki spoke, "It is very sweet of you to drag your crippled arse all the way over here to see me."

Ivar scrunched up his nose. "Why do you think I want anything from you, you spindly-legged, knock-kneed boat-builder?"

"It's nice to see how much you've matured since I've been away," said Floki.

"Matured? What, you think I want to be an old fool like you?"

"The way you behave, dear Ivar, you'll never get the chance." The two began to laugh, and Floki ran out to hug him, then embraced Brynhildr, who he kissed on the forehead. "You are grown, too. Helga has forgotten she already has a daughter."

"It is alright, I suppose," said Brynhildr as he ruffled her hair. "Admittedly, I did not come often enough for her to see me as such. When I did, I came for you. Though, I will always regard Helga as a second mother. She would braid my hair, make me food. Nurse my injuries when I'd fall the first few times I was carrying Ivar."

"You ought to remind her of that," said Floki. "Tell me, then, what have you two come to see me for?"

"I wanted to make sure the Mediterranean hadn't soured you," said Brynhildr simply.

"And I thought there was something you might be able to do for me," said Ivar. "Now that we're going to England to fight, it's about time I didn't have to crawl about. Especially on the battlefield. I wonder if you could help me, Floki."

Floki thought of it, and gave a nod. "I will figure something out."

Brynhildr could always trust Floki to solve their problems.