Viking Queen

by Savannah Rose

  We keep fighting, through all those courtyards and passageways and alleys that make up the outer part of the castle. I know this place like the back of my hand, and yet it’s transformed. The arrows flying around, the glint of swords, the screams, the blood, the bodies.

  It makes my heart pound, makes it bleed in agony. So much blood. So many bodies. So many kids. This is not how it’s supposed to be. To say that war in any shape or form is good would be a lie. But this version of it something that trumps wicked. There are kids amongst us, not just teenagers, but ones who barely know how to keep their feet on the ground. Chubby cheeked, bright eyes, and battered. At this point, I don’t care about being a queen or a peasant. I care about being human.

  “Stop,” I say. My voice is flat, without any ringing power, yet everyone still falls miraculously silent at my word. They all freeze - not just my army, but Shar’s too. I look into their faces. It’s not about them. It’s about me and Shar.

  “Enough of this,” I say. “This is not your fight.”

  A few swords are still raised, but most have been lowered.

  “Let us end this now,” I say quietly. I feel incredibly calm, as if I’ve always known that this was the way it was supposed to be.

  “Eirik. Go back and tend to Johan. I will go alone to my sister.”

  Eirik argues with me at first. Of course, he does. I love him for that. But he can’t make me change my mind.

  “It’s not about who’s got the biggest army or the strongest warriors. This is a quarrel between sisters. We need to settle it ourselves.”

  He doesn’t look happy, but he goes anyway.

  I walk to the throne room slowly. Most people lower their eyes respectfully as I pass, whether they’re from my army or Shar’s. Two or three fiery loyalists make lunges at me and try to stop me, but I disable them easily with a couple of passes from my sword.

  I get to the throne room, and despite the seriousness of the situation, despite the strangeness of it all, I knock.

  When I open the door, Shar is sitting on the throne, looking at my incredulously.

  “You’re always telling me to knock,” I say by way of explanation. “You ought to be happy.”

  “Happy?” she spits, her knuckles turning white as she grips the armrests of the throne. “What do you mean, happy? Why can’t you just accept your place, Rhea? Why can’t you just accept that you’re the weaker one?” She catches her breath, and then her tone changes slightly. It becomes cold, taunting. “You realize that many people have died for you today, don’t you Rhea? How does that make you feel?”

  “It makes me feel terrible,” I reply simply. “The only way that I can deal with it is by reminding myself how many more would have died if I had left them to suffer in this endless winter that you have brought to this kingdom.”

  “I would have figured out how to fix that in the end,” she snarls. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Rhea, but in the past I’ve always got the thing that I wanted, even when people told me that it wasn’t possible.”

  “And what was the cost?” I’m keeping my voice level, reasonable. I know that she’s trying to draw me into a fight, but it won’t work. I refuse to be the weaker sister. Not anymore.

  “What was the cost?” Her voice is high, mimicking me. “God, Rhea, you’re always so self-righteous. Do you think that you’ll be a perfect queen? Do you think that nothing will ever go wrong, that you won’t ever have to make decisions that will hurt people? Do you think that it’ll all just be rosy if only you can get your hands on this throne?” She laughs, the echoes of it bouncing off the walls, each echo a fresh mockery. “You are so naive.”

  “I’m not naive,” I reply calmly. “I know a lot more than you ever will. And I know that the first rule of being queen is that it’s not about you. You think you’re a ruler, Shar, but if you were smart you’d know that you’re a servant. The queen serves the kingdom, sister, not the other way around.”

  “Servant, eh?” She gives another laugh - a harsh, jerking laugh. “Speaking of servants, have you noticed my new Warriors?”

  Four men step into the light of the torches that illuminate the room. They’re dressed like my Warriors, except that they’re wearing Shar’s colors. They have nearly the same physique as my warriors, though they’re not as tall and battle-hardened. I can see how she has managed to convince herself that they’re a good replacement, but to me it’s obvious that she’s just kidding herself.

  “You may have come here to speak to me alone. I know that’s the kind of stunt that you love to pull. You’re always so high-minded like that. But I’m not as stupid as you. I know that there’s no point in having power if you don’t use it.”

  The warriors start to close around me in a ring. My fingers tighten over the handle of my sword. I look at each of them in turn. I could certainly fight any one of them. But four, all at once? It’s not possible. I know that with a heavy, sinking finality. Yet a voice inside me - a voice that sounds a little like Ysulte and a little like my own voice - reminds me not to give up. I need to trust myself.

  “Oh, I’m not going to have them kill you, Rhea,” Shar says, her mouth widening into a broad, humorless, insane smile. “I am reserving that pleasure for myself.”

  “That’s so like you, Shar,” I say. “Selfish to the last.”

  She doesn’t laugh. Her mouth forms a straight, hard line. “Take her,” she snaps.

  But before any of them can move, there’s a great grinding sound as the doors to the throne room swing open.

  And suddenly my warriors are there - all four of them. In the blink of an eye they have taken up their positions surrounding me, their knees bent in readiness, their swords drawn. I can catch the scent of sweat and blood and devotion that rises off them, and all my fears evaporate. I am exactly where I belong, exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  “It seems we’re even after all,” I call out to Shar. She has sunk back onto the throne and is slumped slightly, her chin cocked as if in annoyance, her head resting on one hand.

  “You are good at the theatrics, aren’t you, sister? I suppose you had them waiting outside the door all the time.”

  “Not at all.” I’m not expecting Karsi to speak - Karsi never speaks. When the words come now, they’re half hissed, as if he’s an angry panther baring its teeth. “The difference between your sister and you is that she doesn’t need to order her Warriors around.”

  “We know when we’re needed,” Haki interjects.

  “And we will always come,” Johan adds. His breathing is still labored and I can see the pain in his face, but he is standing up, straight and proud.

  I smile. I have known from the first that they’d never leave me, but I’ve never been so grateful to have them at my side as I am now.

  “Well, this shouldn’t take long.” Shar gestures at her four imposters. “My warriors are younger than yours, Rhea, and I daresay stronger. I’ve watched your four men fighting for many years, and I know that they’re not capable of much.”

  I laugh. I don’t mean to taunt her, but what she says is so ridiculous that I can’t help myself. “Oh Shar,” I say. I’m still smiling. I can’t help it. “Do you really think they ever gave their all to you? They served you with their presence, yes. But they were never destined to serve you. That’s why they never served you with their hearts. That’s why they’ve never fucked you.”

  Shar has gone deadly white. She looks like a statue that would shatter at the lightest touch.

  I shake my head at her and continue. “Control isn’t the same thing as love, sister. Why can’t you see that?”

  Shar rises to her feet. A terrible noise fills the room. She’s screaming in rage, in anger. In helplessness.

  “Take them!” she cries.

  Her warriors fall upon mine in a frenzy of swords and grunting. In all the middle of the activity I remain perfectly still. I know that my Warriors will not let her men get within touching distance of me.

  “Remember how
we used to run through this castle together, Shar?” I ask sadly. She seems to writhe in the throne, as if my words are causing her physical pain.

  “Shut up!”

  “How we weren’t allowed to step into the patches of light? How we’d throw that one word - dróttning - between us, like it was something that we could play catch with?”

  I start to walk towards her. She holds up her hand as if it’s a shield.

  “Don’t come any closer to me!” she spits, but I ignore her.

  “We were children then. Yes, it seemed like one of us was destined to be queen and the other no better than a slave. But really, either of us could have been queen then. Back when we had only good intentions.”

  It’s as if I’ve suddenly understood something that I’ve been grappling with since childhood. Maybe I’m just thinking out loud, but I need Shar to hear what I have to say.

  After all, this is going to be my last-ever chance to talk to her.

  “Back then we both wanted to be queen, and we wanted to be a good queen. But then you changed, sister.” I shrug sadly. I’m only a few feet away from her now. Standing this close, it’s as if the years have fallen away from her face, from both of us. She looks young, and very very frightened.

  “You stopped caring about what it meant to be a good queen. You cared only about power. We are told that our destinies are handed down to us, that there is no changing them. But you changed your destiny, Shar.” I sigh. “You changed your destiny when you stopped caring about our people. That was the moment that you became unfit to be queen.”

  The warriors are still fighting. The noise of battle still fills the room, but I am close enough to my sister to hear nothing but her ragged, enraged breathing.

  “So I’m not going to be like you,” I continue. “I’m not going to stop caring about what happens to you. I’m not going to stop what’s supposed to happen from happening.”

  I reach out and lay a hand on Shar’s. It’s like grasping marble. She doesn’t move. The only part of her that seems alive is her eyes, which are open to their widest extent, staring at me with rage, hatred - and fear.

  “I’m sorry, Shar,” I say softly. “I wish that we could have worked something out that was better than this.”

  I squeeze her hand and close my own eyes.

  A flame flashes up before me. This time it’s not a rampant fire burning out of control, but one that I can take charge of. I direct the fire towards Shar, my own eyes still closed.

  “Goodbye, sister,” I whisper.

  And then, when I have opened my eyes, she’s gone.

  The room has fallen silent. Shar’s four warriors - if you can call them that - are all on their knees, each with a sword levelled at their throat.

  A single tear spills out of my eye and down my cheek. My sister - the sister I have fought with, the sister I have loved and hated, the sister I have always missed deep down - she’s gone.

  “Where did she go?” one of her warriors demands. I turn to face him, and unthinkingly drop down to sit on the throne myself.

  “She’s gone to the hill where there is no time,” I say. “The place where I have been. The place where I was able to learn. She will stay there, imprisoned, until she is able to learn.”

  “Learn what?” Haki asks.

  I shrug. “Whatever it is that she needs to learn. I can’t tell her what that is. She needs to figure it out for herself.”

  Absentmindedly, I let my hand fall down to the armrests of the throne. I feel the carved stone, and the presence of my father, my grandmother, my great-grandmother, thrum beneath my fingertips. Yet I’d barely noticed it until now.

  I look down, half in surprise.

  “I’ve won the throne,” I say, stating the obvious. Out loud, mostly to myself, I muse, “Does that make me queen?”

  “You were always the queen,” Eirik responds immediately. I shoot a secret smile across the room, just for him.

  “I guess that’s true,” I say.

  The cleanup from the battle is awful. The worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.

  The body-count is just over two hundred, including both sides. Johan tries to reassure me that that’s very small for such an enormous battle, but those words mean nothing to me. The loss of any life in this war - this stupid fight between two sisters - is a terrible crime to me.

  That’s when I swear to myself that the first aim of my reign will be to preserve peace for all my days. I guess that’s how it happens. The prophecy said that I would be the one to bring peace to the kingdom, but that’s nothing to do with ‘destiny’. It’s not just something that I can magically make happen. It’s because I’ve known the rage and sorrow of war, felt the pain of people dying on my behalf, that I know I’ll never let it happen again.

  *

  We all sleep on the royal bed that night, me and my four warriors. In the mess of bodies it’s easy to forget whose mouth is whose, and I kiss them all until I feel like I’ve worn my lips out. I need to be careful of Johan, who’s still gravely wounded. Yet I let my mouth graze all around the wound, and feel from the quickening of energy beneath my lips that I am healing him.

  It’s hard to say whether I’m really asleep or awake. It’s as if all four of them have become a single body, surrounding me and encompassing me, teasing every square inch of my skin, setting each nerve on fire. There’s so much skin and no matter what direction I reach my hands in, I’m graced with the hardened muscles of one of the men dearest to my heart. Johan kisses me like there’s no tomorrow, like there’s no reason to breathe as long as we’re connected like this.

  It is Eirik who takes me first, spreading my folds with the thickness of his erection. His rhythm isn’t quick or slow, it’s just perfect. As my body bounces to the rhythm of Eirik, Haki’s moves up to cover my nipple with his mouth. I moan the pleasure of his touch against Johan’s lips, my voice growing even louder when Karsi moans, grazing his teeth over my nipple.

  The amount of pleasure that is brought to me in the moments that follow, could power a brothel for dozens of years. Having them separately would have satisfied me wholly and completely. Having them all at the same time? It’s almost more than I can bear. Just as dawn breaks I’m lulled back into the most peaceful sleep of my whole life.

  We wake when the sun has fully risen. My warriors leave me to return to the armory. None of us has mentioned what needs to be done, but we don’t need to. I brush my hair and dress myself, placing the circlet of gold and sapphires on my own head as the finishing touch. When my warriors return to my bedroom door to escort me, their armor has been polished so brightly that it gleams.

  We walk together to the balcony at the front of the castle. Each in turn, they kneel down to kiss my hand. In turn, I bend down to kiss each of them on the mouth.

  Then I walk through the doors to my balcony, to face my waiting kingdom.

  Sometimes I catch a flash of my old life. I think of the queue in Starbucks, the way I used to paint my face on to convince other people - to convince myself, really - that I was the real deal, a medium, someone who could see into the future.

  These days, if there’s one thing that I know for sure, it’s that I’ve got no idea what the future really holds. As queen, people want me to have all the answers, to lead them fearlessly into the future. But what I realize now is that all we can do is admit that we don’t know what’s going to happen, and do our best to cope with whatever comes.

  For example, when I walked onto that balcony to face my people, I had no idea that I was going to look down and see the beginnings of spring blossom forming on a tree in the courtyard, a tree that has stood bare and seemingly dead for twelve long years.

  Just goes to show that you can never really give up on anything.

  It’s not easy, rebuilding the kingdom after all the damage that Shar’s done. It’s not just the damage of such a long winter. Dishonest people have risen to power and exploited the poor. People have learned to be angry and jaded, and distrust those in
power. Rebuilding that trust isn’t the work of a day.

  But I know that I can do it. I trust myself now. Sometimes I turn my face to the see and think of the moment that I said goodbye to Ysulte, and I thank her for everything that she gave me. By coming into my life she made it a thousand times more difficult, but I wouldn’t change a single moment of it.

  I visit Shar sometimes, on that hill where time forgot, the hill where I realized what I had to do. She hasn’t figured out how to get herself out of that place, and I don’t think she ever will. Her mind is too clouded with bitterness to be capable of any great acts of magic. She won’t even talk to me when I go there. She just turns her face away and stares at the sea, and the force of her hatred is so powerful that I feel like it would burn me if I let it, but I don’t.

  I haven’t given up on her either. I hope that one day the two of us will be able to figure something out. Sibling rivalry is never easy to fix, I understand that now.

  But even if I can’t fix Shar, it doesn’t matter. I may have more responsibilities than I’ve ever known before, but I never thought I’d be this happy in my whole life.

  One of my Warriors shares my bed every night. Sometimes more than one in the same night. They’re always gentle and loving, and they can always guess my every desire. How could I not be happy? They serve tirelessly at my side all day and guard my sleep at night.

  Eirik was the first one that I fell in love with, the first one that I came to know so deeply. Impossible is the only word that comes to mind when I think about how easily my heart fits them all in, how empty I know I’d feel if just one of them were to leave. I love each one of them with everything I have, and in turn they give me everything back. There’s never even a question of jealousy. I don’t want to control them, and they don’t want to control me. We’re just happy that finally, after all this longing and across all these lifetimes, we’re finally able to be together, where we belong.