Aslaug as a sorceress | for anonymous

Gisla gave a smile when even she heard his belly. She gave a small laugh, sounding much more natural and less restrained than she used to. “We will find something to eat, I think.” She told him.

The princess looked down, lips pursing as she tried to figure out how to get up with him. “Just for a moment.” She muttered and moved to sit him down beside her on her bed. She stood up, straightening out her gown before bending down to pick him up again; it was easier this way than trying to stand up with him. Once she had a comfortable hold on him she started for the door.

“Guard!” She called, loud enough to be heard in the corridor. At her command the door opened before they reached it.

   The boy didn’t mind at all as he waited for Gisla to shift and get herself fixed up before lifting him. It would hurt his legs too much if she did this when he was in her arms, after all. “Can I call you maman outside of here?” He questioned, arms lifted as Gisla finished up.    Soon, the two were out of the room and the boy was happily cuddling under his mother’s chin.

Rollo chuckled at Ivar as he got up. Quickly he turned and took Ivar’s face between his hands, bending down to kiss his head. “Be good, do not scare her away already.” He teased before leaning over to press his lips to Gisla’s. He held the kiss for a moment before finally pulling back, he whispered something to her before straightening up.

“I will be back quickly.” He called to them as he left the room.

Gisla bit her lip, watching Rollo until he left before turning to look at Ivar, “Have you eaten yet today, Ivar?”

   “Ew,” Ivar mumbled as the two kissed for what he saw as longer than needed. Sometimes he really wished his legs would work. Finally though, his father straighten and turned to leave. “Take your time, papa!”

   Yes, now he has his maman all to himself! What could they do first? Maybe go outside? He hasn’t been outside in ages! Or what about exploring the-    At the thought of food, his belly rumbled. He did not eat yet, and the night before he only picked at his dinner.. He was hungry.

Gisla gave a small smile, she couldn’t very well argue; she was an only child and had often preferred it that way. “It will be some time before you have any siblings.” She assured him, moving her hand to the back of his head. She was silent for a moment before turning to look back at Rollo.

“Were you not to meet Count Odo?” She questioned, to which Rollo replied with a groan. Gisla ran her fingers through Ivar’s hair, giving Rollo a look.

“Yes, to inspect the lumber for the towers.” Rollo explained, finally moving to sit up. He laid his chin on Gisla’s shoulder, looking down at Ivar, “Are you happy, boy?” He asked with a playful smile.

   “Very!” Ivar replied and gave Gisla another hug. He was also happy that his papa was happy, and even more so that he and Gisla were getting along so well! “I’ll take care of maman, you can go look at those sticks!” The boy waved his hand to give Rollo a small push to get moving. 

   Once Rollo was off the bed, Ivar was soon asking Gisla if she could help him out of bed too. “Can we go play, maman?”

Gisla gave a smile, partly out of relief that the boy hadn’t inquired into just how a brother was going to be made. She pressed her hand to his back, tilting to try and see his face, “You will have a brother one day, and possibly a sister too. Would you not like someone to play with?” She asked curiously. She had not had siblings herself, she wasn’t sure what else they were good for besides companionship. Her husband’s brother was proof siblings had little purpose.

“Don’t you remember how many brothers your cousin Bjorn had? Wouldn’t you like some yourself to boss around?” Rollo questioned from his spot on the bed.

   “..But I just got you back!” The boy complained, not wanting to share his maman so soon. He already had to share her with his papa! “I don’t remember cousin Björn, or the other boys.” But he did remember that because of two of his cousins, his mother was dead. He won’t forgive them for that, never!    ..At least he had Gisla now.

Gisla’s lips parted but she looked behind her to Rollo to answer. She wasn’t sure where her place was in deciding things. “Not tonight, Ivar, we are going to be busy making you a brother.” He replied with a chuckle. Gisla gave him a look and a small shove, which Rollo responded to with a questioning, “What?”

Gisla gave him a small shove before turning to look back down at Ivar, “You may, if you wish to. Your father and I will not be busy with anything.” She assured him.

   “I don’t want a brother!” The boy huffed, not complaining as Gisla shoved his father a few times for his comments. He would do the same if he could move on his own, and could reach. “I just want you two.” He finished speaking, arms wrapping around Gisla in a tight hug. 

Gisla glanced to Rollo before smiling to Ivar, “It would seem so.” She whispered in return to him, “I believe he wanted it to be a surprise.” She added. Rollo got up to help shift Ivar. Gisla moved to sit further back on the bed to make it easier. Rollo ruffled up Ivar’s hair once he was done and then moved to lay across the bed behind Gisla, wrapping an arm casually around her.

   “Or to impress you,” He whispered before Rollo came to help make sure the boy was comfy on his mother’s lap. Once he was, he curled up against Gisla’s chest and smiled upon feeling his papa wrap his own arm around his wife, and at the same time around Ivar. He was quite happy to see them getting along so well! What did his father do to change Gisla’s mind?    “Can I sleep with you two tonight?”

“We have told no one else.” Rollo told him, still in his surprising Frankish. “We wished to tell you first, we knew how happy you would be.” He added placing a hand on Ivar’s back.

“You have called me maman before. I will merely act as I have before until we tell my father the news, as well.” Gisla explained, running her fingers through Ivar’s hair again. 

   “Alright papa,” The boy nodded and rested his head against Gisla, enjoying the feeling of her running her fingers through his hair. “Yes maman,”

   Before snuggling closer, Ivar had to get Gisla to help him with his legs, and while he did that, he had to ask in a whisper- “Did papa finally go to his lessons?” His father had tried to join his son with learning french, but he never lasted long and soon Ivar was better at it then he! Yet, now.. Rollo seemed to have caught up. 

The “I will do it because you said I couldn’t” club

Gisla smiled, obviously a bit shocked by the boy’s reaction. She still wasn’t entirely used to the actions of a child, but she was a fast learner. She wrapped her other arm around him, returning the hug. “Yes.” She told him with a nod, Rollo was chuckling at Ivar.

“And…” She pulled back to look down at him again, “If you would like me to be your maman…than I would be happy to…try. Although I cannot say how good of one I will be.” She told him, reaching down to gently brush his hair out of his eyes.

   Finally feeling happy for the first time in ages, the boy snuggled close and closed his eyes. “You’re already are my maman,” He remained like that for a short while, before a few things slowly dawn on him.

   “...W-wait.. does.. no one else know? Do I need to not call you maman?”

Gisla gave a small smile at his gesture. “Good.” She reached out, holding him under his arms while Rollo helped to move him onto her lap. She kept one arm around him and held his hand in hers, rubbing the scar over his palm gently.

“Your papa and I have discussed things, and we have decided to not get a divorced. We are going to remain man and wife, and you are going to stay here.” Gisla explained. 

“Does that sound good?” Rollo added, in rather impressive Frankish. He moved up to sit closer to the pair, just behind Ivar.

   Eyes lighting up, the boy opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. He was speechless! Was he really hearing what he thought he heard? ..And when did his papa get so good with french?

   “I get to stay with maman?” The child asked, grinning from ear to ear, looking at Gisla, his papa, then Gisla again. With no signs of it being a lie, he squealed and his arms were soon hugging Gisla tightly. 

“That is understandable. I could tell you about it, if you would like?”

She responded kindly. She to share stories with others, after all. Perhaps she could even show him Dragonstone one day..

   “Ah, a story then?” The boy’s eyes lit up for a moment, he always enjoyed hearing stories! He wasn’t any good of telling them himself, but that’s ok, Floki and his mother would cover that area for him. They were the best story tellers.

She couldn’t help but smile a little because of this, even if a little shyly at that. She had a feeling that she would be able to get along well with Ivar. She was glad about that.

‘What do you think of Dragonstone, Ivar?“

She asked him with a curious look in her eyes.

   “..I don’t know much about it,” He admitted, after trying to recall if anyone had bought up anything about it around him before. Was this something he should ask Floki? His mother? Or would it just upset her if he asked?

What he said wasn’t surprising to her. She knew what people thought  about her. But he said next, did surprise her. Her eyes widened a little as she looked at him.

“You really think so?”

She had to ask him, to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood him.

   Ivar blinked before nodding. “Yeah,” Was that weird? Back home scars were quite common. Björn’s wife even had this big one on her face- she seemed not to like it, but he thought it was neat! It showed that she was a true warrior.    ...Unlike his own deformed legs, now those were what true ugliness was. He couldn’t even say it happened during a battle, or even whatever caused these scales to form on this other girl’s face. Some sort of sickness, maybe. 

Gisla was plainly dressed, still very much a princess but not nearly done up as she normally was. Rollo for his part was in trousers and an untucked tunic; which really wasn’t out of the ordinary. Neither looked as though they intended to meet with anyone of importance. 

“We have something we’d like to tell you Ivar.” Rollo started, staying where he was seated by the boy. Gisla sat down on the edge of the bed in front of them.

“It is very important that you don’t tell anyone. You have to promise, because it’s a secret that must be kept until your papa or I tell it. But we wished for you to know.” Gisla added, neither looked particularly upset either.

   Lifting his arms up to be picked up by Gisla, the child nodded. “I won’t say a word! Not even in papa’s language.” He promised. The time that he had spent away from Gisla sort of had him falling out of the habit of speaking french, for he would need to stop all together when his papa forces him to leave. Nonetheless, he was still better with french than his papa was! “What is it?”

Gisla didn’t know how to respond to him so she didn’t. She was tired herself, having exerted more energy than she as used to to get her anger across. Eventually she ended up falling asleep, and a maid entered the room through the back entrance. Rollo was allowed in for long enough to pick the boy up and take him to his chambers. Rollo would sleep that night in Ivar’s room.

The princess tried to avoid the little boy, it was harder than avoiding his father. She often felt guilty if she didn’t spend any time with him, but then would try it again with the reasoning that he would have to get used to her not being there. Days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months. The wind grew cold and the signs of Christmas began to appear in the palace.

The envoy from Rome arrived, a maid noting it to another as she entered Ivar’s nursery. No news from the meeting was heard that evening, but neither Rollo or Gisla arrived to the evening meal. Rollo did not arrive to eat with Ivar in the morning, and it wasn’t until mid-day that the door to Ivar’s nursery opened to someone other than a maid.

“We would like to speak to Ivar alone.” Gisla told the nursemaid currently with him. The young woman gave a nod and rose, leaving with a small curtsey. Rollo greeted his son as the door was shut behind the maid and they walked into the room.

   With no word of improvement of his father and Gisla deciding against the divorce, the child grew more and more withdrawn. He did not improve much with his studies, and it was hard for anyone to get the boy excited about anything anymore. After all, Gisla wouldn’t come to see him. She was making sure to stay away from him all together.     Even when he hurt his hand again, she didn’t come. He later found out she came during that night when he was asleep, but he didn’t believe the maid. Why would she come see him then? Why couldn’t she come and just sit with him? To play?

   Laying in bed while he pouted, he heard the door open but didn’t bother getting up. It sounded like his papa, no need to bother, but then-                         Gisla’s voice.     Sitting up, his father was thankfully quick enough to help the child before he hurt his legs. It wasn’t easy using just your arms to roll over and sit up! But more importantly- why was Gisla and his papa here? Together? Were.. were they here to break the bad news to him? Why didn’t his papa look sad if that was the case?