The attack on Paris ended with a terrible bang. As the setting sun drowned the day, the rest of the warriors became restless. Nothing could take away the thought they failed. Failure was never an option in the eyes of a Viking.

Amirah sat by a stream, scrubbing her hands until they became raw. Her mind replayed the scenes from earlier over and over. The way Bjorn lay unconscious with his blue eyes open and staring through her soul: haunted her. She regretted ever joining the siege. She regretted climbing the tower and having Bjorn chase after her. She felt that she was responsible for his death. Her chest burned with melancholy, aching to kill her soul and return to the land of the living.

Amirah continued to scrub her hands, washing away the blood from ten minutes ago. No matter how hard she scrubbed, she felt it was still there. She felt the blood still on her hands. Frustrated, the young woman gave up and sat there. The forest held a soft spot in Amirah's heart. It was a place she could hear her thoughts. She closed her eyes and listened to her surroundings. Delicate tweeting sounds could be heard as the leaves rustled in the wind. As content, as she was in the moment of tranquillity, her thoughts: shot back to Bjorn.

It was her fault, and she couldn't deny it.

Amirah cupped her hands together and dipped them into the stream. The chilly, tranquil liquid filled her palms to the brim as she held it up to her face. She repeated the same actions until she washed away the remaining blood and grime on her face.

Once she felt clean enough, she started heading back to camp.

Guilt was etched in her bones and written in stones. Dragged by the wind, taken by the stars, driven with madness and scars. 

Each step she took felt heavy as she made her way closer to the medical tent. What if she was right? 

What if she did get him killed?

Her heart felt heavy as she approached the medical tent. Her hand hovered over the material concealing the doorway. She took a breath in before she entered the tent.

"How is he?" Amirah questioned, slowly approaching the medical bed Bjorn was in.

"I don't know," Ragnar answered as she kneeled in front of the bed medical bed.

Amirah watched his back slowly rise and fall as he lay on his stomach. Bjorn's face was caked in blood and grime. She couldn't tell if that was his or someone else's blood.

"Is he alive?" Lagertha rushed in and crouched next to Amirah.

"What happened?" she questioned in desperation, looking up at Ragnar.

Amirah's stomach started to churn as she bit the inner part of her cheek. She didn't want to be the one to explain what happened to him. If she did, her voice might crack.

"He was proving: that you don't need a title to lead or to protect the ones he loves," Ragnar replied, giving Lagertha a reassuring look.

Within seconds, Amirah spotted Rollo rushing into the medical tent to see if Bjorn was okay. If it wasn't the anxiety that: was getting to Amirah, it had to be the intimidating looks of Bjorn's uncle. It wasn't too often she feared how an individual looked, though Rollo was the only exception. Amirah felt terrible for getting Bjorn into this mess, but she appreciated being there for him.

"You should've never let him climb the ladder. Now he may die," Rollo cursed under his breath as he looked up at Ragnar. 

He rolled his eyes before speaking. "Both of you. Stop treating him like a child. He's a man, so let him be a man," Ragnar answered: in a harsh tone.

"It wasn't Bjorn's fault. It was mine," Amirah started. Rollo and Lagertha's attention turned toward the woman next to them.

"I sought to: seek out their commander, even though Bjorn told me not to go. After all, an army can't run without its commander," Her thoughts ran back to the commander and how he had the same: resemblance to her brother.

Amirah couldn't distinguish between fiction and reality. Was her mind playing games on her? Was that her brother? Impossible. He held the exact features of her brother despite him being a different man.

"It's not your fault, Amirah. None of this is your fault. He ran after you because he was trying to protect you. You have no idea how he feels for you," he told her: with reassurance. 

Those first four words she needed to hear. Knowing that it wasn't her fault, even though she felt so guilty. Her chest felt fluttery as her heart continued to pick up speed.

"Do not feel guilty for his actions. You were a storm they weren't expecting," he chuckled before relaxing again.

"For now on, you will hold the title of Ironstorm. You will be known as Amirah Ironstorm: the Valkeryie that became mortal. With a heart of iron and fury of a storm."

Amirah felt honoured to receive a title from Ragnar. The thought of having half of Bjorn's title and hers mashed together just made it a bit more special. 'They whisper about a storm gusting in from the north and reigning on the south.' Those words rang in her head like Paris' church bells did create an understanding of what those words meant.

"So I am the storm. . ." Amirah mumbled in realization.

"I'll leave you to watch over him," Ragnar commented before leaving. Behind him followed Lagertha and Rollo.

Amirah placed her back against the side of the bed and leaned her head back. Her bones ached from today. Every muscle in her body burned, even her heart. She was relieved to see Bjorn alive. A mountain was lifted off her tired shoulders as she closed her eyes to rest. As long as Bjorn was near her, she felt safe.

Sleep soon took the restless woman and comforted her with a steady: thread of amenity. Several hours went by as it sent her under the spell of the night. Soft snores exit her lips as her head leans back on her shoulders.

Slowly, she started to shift from her slumber as fingers caressed her long hair. As soothing as it felt, she wished it would never stop. Her thoughts snapped back to reality as her eyelids slowly opened. Under the veil of her long lashes, her; gaze stared at a white bandage wrapped around her arm.

Soft oil lights and candles flickered, sending a soft orange glow within the tent. The smell of incense and herbs filled her nostrils. If it wasn't for her awareness, she could have fallen back to sleep any moment now.

Slowly she turned her head back to see Bjorn looking at her. His soft gaze stared at her in a daze, almost as if he was: admiring her. The young prince was lying on his back with several bandages crossing the arrow wounds on his chest. His well-defined body was marked by several scars, bruises, and cuts, almost as if: he had been scalped by the gods.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he questioned as his voice went hoarse.

"No, I was resting my eyes," Amirah replied with a yawn, straightening her back and stretching her arms above her head.

"Thank the gods you are alright. I thought I lost you," she placed her hand in his. Amirah smiled softly as her heart became in her throat.

"I was worried about you. . ." her last words came out in a whisper. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, creating a sense of comfort.

"Me? I couldn't afford to lose you! I only did what my instincts told me," Bjorn replied before turning on his back. A sickening cough escaped his lips, making Amirah frown.

"It's that bad, huh?" She watched as his head turned toward her.

"I'm fine. The healer said I should be back and raiding in the morning," a small chuckle escaped his lips.

Amirah slipped her fingers away from his hand before deciding to stand. 

"I will leave you to rest. After all, I have a tent to set up," Amirah chuckled and turned her away. 

Before Amirah could leave, she felt a gentle hold on her wrist. She stopped in her tracks and turned her head back.

"Stay," he pleaded as she stared into her sun-kissed eyes. For the longest time, she stared at him, trying to decide if this was the right move. Her heart fluttered in response to his words. 

Amirah nodded as he moved slightly over for her to lie with him. She scanned the medical tent, noticing no other patients were in the tent beside her and Bjorn. Her twinkling gaze watched the candlelights sway from side to side, creating: a velvety atmosphere.

Her eyes cast to her clothes. She noticed most of her armour was caked in blood and grime. First, she removed her boots and then her cloak. Her fingers ran toward the leather belt that kept together the doublet she wore. After slipping the garment off her shoulders, she was left in a dark blue tunic that fit her like a glove, accompanied by black slacks.

Amirah slipped in beside Bjorn noticing the warmth that admitted off of him. She lay on her side facing Bjorn. She felt her heart in her throat. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him and how she; longed for him, but at the same time, what if it was a mistake? 

What if she loses him again?

As her heart and mind battle with dominance to be in the right, she slammed the doors on her thoughts when she noticed his sterling silver eyes start to glow in soft hues. Her face was so close to his. She felt her heart drum against her chest with each breath, almost as if it: was going to explode any second.

Slowly he leaned in to capture her delicate lips. Amirah felt fireworks go off in her chest as the heat rose from her toes to her gut, moving up to her chest and stopping right; above her cheeks.

Amirah slowly pulled away, looking into his glossy eyes.

"I could not risk losing you," he whispered, remembering her fall from earlier.

"You wouldn't lose me, Bjorn Ironside. You would have me, and even if the gods ripped us from each other's grasp, we would find a way to meet again," she placed a hand on his cheek as a soft smile pulled onto her lips.

"Gods be damned if they ever do," 

Before she could say another word, he leaned in to capture her lips and her heart: along with it. She closed her doe-like eyes and returned to his touch. His calloused fingers glided from the back of her thighs to the midpart of her back. Bjorn's fingers grazed over each scar that marked her body with gentle grace. With each touch, she felt like her skin was on fire. 

For once, she felt loved. She felt whole again as if all the agony and pain were washed away.

Her arms wrapped around his neck. Bjorn dragged her closer, pressing her up against his chest. Despite his wounds under each bandage, he felt no pain. The hairs on the back of: his neck rose as he intakes her scent. There was something so familiar about her scent: that veiled her skin; home.

His fingers roamed to the bottom of her shirt before ghosting it. He waited a second before she helped him discard the garment. He leaned in to capture her swollen lips while Bjorn gently: lay her on her back. Amirah's fingers danced along his spine and carried up: his shoulder blades to the base of his neck, giving him goosebumps. She held him close as his lips brushed against her neck, moving slowly down her collarbone and stopping above: the bandages that covered her chest. Her breath became shallow as soft moans escaped her lips.

His lips travelled up her stomach and stopped at her lips. He leaned his forehead against hers, locking his gaze with hers.

"Are you sure you want me to go any further?" he stared into her eyes, looking for a sign that she was okay.

"Yes," she pecked his lips, bringing a soft smile to his face.

"So be it."

Bjorn treated Amirah like she was a goddess under the veil of stars. Her scars, agony, anguish, and pain all; washed away under him. He made her feel loved, safe, and someone to call home. Amirah wouldn't mind if she stayed in the past for the rest of her life as long as she was by his side. The gods smiled upon the two as much as they knew -- Bjorn and Amirah loved each other.

They were truly blessed by: the gods to end up safely together in each other's arms. Even though all hope was lost due to the Seige. Amirah still found a way to become whole again. He was the missing piece in her life. Someone she longed for. 

Only time would tell what the gods had planned for them. They whispered a foreboding passage to the bear: to give the bird his undying star. Amirah felt protected in Bjorn's arms: like nothing could ever hurt her.

Under the peaceful stars, a new dawn was coming.