Chapter Text
In the end none of them saw it coming until it was there. In the middle of the battlefield they felt the shock in the earth and then felt the scorching heat coming from the East. And now those left standing are left to see the carnage. The earth is scorched black and the smell of blood assaults the noses of all still living. Ash falls like rain and some bodies still decorate the land along with twisted weapons and melted armor.
Ivar Lothbrok stands with his brothers weapons still at the ready. He looks to the air and warily remembers the flames the engulfed the forces of King Aelle but left most of the Heathen army standing. From what he can see none of the forces of Wessex have been touched. He remembers the flames and how it touched his skin but gently almost like a lovers caress. It is clear to him that this is magic by design. All of his people know only a fool tries to control fire. It is a harsh mistress and most who try to wield it die before the spells can be woven.
Bjorn gives the signal and reluctantly their forces begin moving to try and find Aelle or at least his corpse so they can stick his head on a pike. They move towards the coastline where their ships and their camp lies. Ivan knows something is wrong when he sees the forces of Wessex. All have their weapons drawn but they are not moving. They watch the Vikings warily but do not move.
Ivar looks at Bjorn and is about to demand they make a move and decide what to do with their at the moment allies that could become immediate enemies now that their common enemy is gone when he hears the scream. It pierces the air and is chilling. The pain within it haunting and sends him running. Ivar takes off with all of his might and fills the Beserker in his blood rising to the surface.
He hears his brothers calling for him but he ignores it. The Wessex forces move to block him and he lashes out desperate to find the source of the scream. Because the voice who it belongs to is all to familiar to him. She was supposed to be safe. She was supposed to be alive. Their last angry words exchanged just a stepping stone on what he had planned for them. He would make her his queen. She was the only woman who calmed his anger and gave him peace. Who ruled his temped and challenged him at every turn. The woman whose kiss gave his peace in a lifetime of war.
Diana of Wessex with her kissed by fire hair is supposed to be his future. He must find her.
He keeps fighting until he hears a pitiful scream once more. He pauses and it is then he sees her. Aethelwulf, her brother and King of Wessex, is holding her in his arms, his sword tossed to the side. On his knees holding his younger sister who is covered in blood and ashes. Her skin is pale and sickly looking and her eyes are glazed. Aethelwulf is speaking to her in rushed and low tones. Even Ivar, with his advanced senses, can only hear bits and pieces. "Diana you fool....hold on....the healer is coming....why???!!!"
Diana is touching her brother's cheek with one trembling weak hand and she tries to speak but instead chokes up blood that is gained black. It chills him to the bone and he begins fighting again to get to her. He bellows her name. This catches her attention and her eyes lock with his. Her brother turns and looks alarmed to see a Lothbrok, the Boneless at that, trying to fight his way through the Wessex forces.
What happens next happens too quickly. Diana moves her hand from her brothers cheek and it connects to the ground. It is then Ivar looks and sees that Aethelwulf is kneeling in a circle drawn from blood containing symbols of the language of the Druids. The blood is Diana's.
She smiles at him and the sorrow and fear in her eyes is apparent to all. It is wrong. Diana is fearless. Scared of nothing. He also sees something in her eyes that wrecks him and knocks the breath out of him. It is the way Judith looked at Ecbert. His father looked at Lagertha. Floki loto is at Helga. Love so clearly shining through.
Diana's hand comes into contact with the circle and she tries to smile once more. The ground begins to glow and the air crackles with lightning as the blood within her veins begins to glow. Her brother yells her name at the same time Ivar does. The wind picks up out of nowhere and then light blinds them all. And when it fades Diana is gone. Where her body was lay in her brother's arms now only air remains. The silence is filled with his screaming her name. He falls to his knees and he hears Bjorn and Ubbe calling his name. But it does not reach him.
With her last breath she whispered her name. Now she is dead. Diana of Wessex was supposed to be his future. But now it is too late.