Alfred takes his time before answering, knowing that his reasons aren't ones that Ivar would likely understand or appreciate. "Kings have always been selfish and have never cared for the people that they rule over. I want to create a better life for those that were not born into fortune," in this way he's probably most like his father, it certainly didn't come from Judith.
"I do. England and I would be powerful weapons, Ivar. Better that you can use them than have them be used against you."
Ivar doesn't exactly see the appeal of the idea. He wanted to be king for the power and glory attached. His way of keeping his people happy was by letting them wreck havoc as they waged war. Things like letting them peacefully farm were an afterthought.
"You seem smart enough to know that screwing me over is a very bad idea." Alfred knew exactly what Ivar was capable of if he felt he had been wronged or cheated. He was extremely vengeful and wouldn't hesitate to attack when angered.
"I am very smart. I have never crossed you and do not intend to start now," Alfred says simply, studying Ivar carefully.
"I have more at risk in trusting you, would you not agree?" After all, it is Alfred's lands that would be under siege, his people slaughtered while tending to their farms.
Ivar wants to trust Alfred. He knew the other teen well enough to know that much of what he said was genuine. But he also knew Alfred was a king with an agenda and Ivar has been burned enough times in the past to know trusting him might not be the smartest idea.
He leans towards Alfred, trying to peer into his mind, and figure out what he was really thinking. "And yet you're willing to risk your life, those of your people, and your lands all for an alliance. Why?"
"I cannot afford to wage a war on two fronts, Ivar," Alfred meets his eyes. The answer is frank and honest whether Ivar chooses to believe him or not. He cannot win either war if he's fighting the Vikings and the other kingdoms at the same time. It is strategic folly.
Being that he wants to unite the kingdoms making peace with them to fight the vikings is counterproductive if he can make an alliance with the Vikings instead.
"I would need something a little more than just your trustworthiness to fall back on. I want something in writing." Granted, they'd thought of the same thing when dealing with Ecbert, but at least this time he could be certain that Alfred wasn't going to abdicate the throne anytime soon.
There is a moment, brief as it may be that the relief showed visibly on Alfred’s face. He of course was tying to aim for confidence and surety while dealing with Ivar but the other was dangerous and Alfred had known that this would quite possibly be an extremely difficult feat.
Ivar was well aware that he was the one holding most of the cards in this deal. If Alfred backed out, he could still tear up England to his heart's content, or even pillage most of Wessex. "We'll need to come an agreement about land. My people will want areas they can farm and settle down on."
Alfred nods. This is what he had expected even if he knew Ivar didn’t understand the desire to farm and settle down with land. He looks contemplative.
“Mercia and Northumbria could be yours once the latter is conquered...” there’s a brief pause. “I think that it goes without saying that you and your people would refrain from slaughtering innocents and we can divide the land fairly amongst everyone but they would be under your control.”
"I like this idea." He folds his hands in front of his face before resting them under his chin. Alfred seemed like he could be trusted, inasmuch as any Englishman could. Ivar could do great things for his people, achieve that status he longed for where they would remember him for long years after the fact.
"Give me a few days. I'll need to organize my warriors and let them know exactly what's going on." There would likely be one or two naysayers among the Vikings, but Ivar would soon quell them. He was their absolute monarch and would make all final decisions.
He wants very much to trust Alfred. He'd been a friend to Ivar when he'd been lonely and vulnerable. He'd like to think some part of that played a part when he called Ivar into this meaning.
Alfred smiles a bit more openly and he nods. It's a risk to trust Ivar not to end up slaughtering innocent people but in all honesty Alfred believes with this plan he can prevent more bloodshed than not.
He'll follow through with his end of the bargain. If this allows him to plunder and wage more war, then all the better for it. Ivar nods. "I would."
Hospitality was always a good way to seal a formal deal. Plus, it allowed him to spend more time in Alfred's company, something that he would never say no to.
Alfred is pleased when Ivar agrees and he doesn't bother to hide the fact. The truth that they enjoyed one another's company despite their differences is one that Alfred had never been bothered by. There was no shame in it and perhaps in their similarities, they could find a way to make peace between their people's lasting.
So, Alfred called one of the servants and requested meal and drink for the two to share. He thought that maybe he should allow others to join but decided against it. Ivar is far too volatile and there are those in his court he can't trust.
Ivar enjoys being able to have a quiet moment like this alone with Alfred. They're both good at reading each other, so he doesn't feel the need to shield himself in layers of anger and fury as he so often does.
He pours himself a generous amount of mead as he tears into the food, starting off with the stew. He soaks some bread in it. "Why did you decide to try and persuade me? I'm sure all of your advisers told you otherwise." He knows what they would have said about him. That he was an insane and volatile warlord that couldn't be trusted. That he would stab Alfred in the back the first chance he got. That he was some Godless pagan just interested in causing carnage. But Alfred had apparently listened to his own council.
Alfred is quiet as he starts to eat, his eyes on Ivar through it all. The servants were hardly noticeable once the meal was served and he shakes his head at the question. It is the truth that everyone advised him against it but that is part of why he had been so determined to do it. "Sometimes, it is better the devil you know than the one you don't or that is pretending to be an angel."
Alfred smiles, and he didn't mean the way he said it to be offensive. "I can trust you far more than I can some of the people closest to me here," he's glad then that he can speak Norse and that his servants decidedly cannot. His mother is the only person he's certain he can trust here. He's not blind to the resentment festering in his half-brother. In truth, Athelred was just as likely to take the first chance to stab him as Ivar was only with Ivar Alfred knew what he was getting into and he knew that if they could make an agreement that Ivar would be honorable until he made it clear that he was not honoring their agreement any longer.
Ivar's eyes glitter at Alfred's description of him and he smiles just a little. Far from being offended, he seems pleased by it. His reputation among the English seems to be that they think he's some sort of demon from the pits of Hell. He's done nothing to dissuade them of this notion. Fear is how to make men remember him forever.
He shifts so that he's leaning a little bit closer to Alfred. "If I stab you, it'll be from the front. Not the back." He means that wholeheartedly. Ivar has been burned and betrayed many times in his life, but he doesn't want to be proven right this time. He wants to believe that this is the start of something new between their new people, and maybe, just maybe, something between the two of them as well.
Alfred’s eyes linger on Ivar’s face a long moment and he knows he can believe him. He shifts and takes a long drink of his wine. “I know that you do not get along with all of your brothers but..” his voice trails off and then he shakes his head.
The smile wipes off his face at the mention of his brothers. That is still such a sore spot with Ivar. Not that he has anyone to blame but himself for how he'd pushed them all away. But he still doesn't like to be reminded of what his selfishness and inability to compromise had cost him.
He turns his attention back to the food, stabbing a bit of meat onto his fork. "It's good." He looks over at Alfred. "The company could be better." He's just joking, of course.
Alfred has worries about the loyalty of his half-brother but he doesn't know how to frame the questions that he has or if he really should trust Ivar with such information or at least if he should yet.
"I do think you would be hard pressed to find such good company as I," Alfred quips with a smile relaxing once more.
"Perhaps. You're more intelligent than half of your advisers." Ivar's eyes run over Alfred slowly and in a manner that is clearly not simple observation. There's a slight lewdness to the gesture as he checks out the English monarch.
Perhaps it's because of their shared past or merely because Ivar is probably the only one who would dare be so blatant. The English tend to put their kings up on a lofty pedestal where none can touch them. The Norse were far more casual.
"Only half?" Alfred asks, brow raising but then the way the other's eyes move over him cause him to flush and clear his throat. He reaches for his drink and takes a sip, his eyes turning to Ivar once more. He doesn't know what to do with that look or the fact that he had liked Ivar looking at him in such a way.
No one in the court had ever or if they had it had never been in such a blatant way that Alfred would actually have noticed.
"You're still too trusting of the other half. You like to see the good in people." He pauses as if considering what to add on. "Even me." Ivar, unlike most people, goes through life without any delusions as to who or what he is. He knows exactly who he is at his core and it gives him the confidence to do what must be done.
As the meal wraps up, he lingers over his drink, still watching Alfred over the edge of his flagon. "Perhaps....we could continue discussing strategy in your chambers?" Is that what they were calling it now?
“There is good and bad in everyone, Ivar,” Alfred says without a hint of doubt. People simply choose which side of themselves to feed or they try to do both. Ivar clearly is more devil than angel but there is plenty good possible. He’s never had the opportunity in his life to feed it though and perhaps it’s too late for him to change for the better but it’s enough for Alfred to trust him and his honor.
Alfred raises a brow at the suggestion and then sets his now empty drink down.
“Very well,” he agrees, though he could hear his mother in his head already detesting such an action. She would say bringing a heathen to his chambers would be more than reckless. She’d have a lot to say that Alfred wouldn’t care to listen to.
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"I do. England and I would be powerful weapons, Ivar. Better that you can use them than have them be used against you."
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"You seem smart enough to know that screwing me over is a very bad idea." Alfred knew exactly what Ivar was capable of if he felt he had been wronged or cheated. He was extremely vengeful and wouldn't hesitate to attack when angered.
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"I have more at risk in trusting you, would you not agree?" After all, it is Alfred's lands that would be under siege, his people slaughtered while tending to their farms.
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He leans towards Alfred, trying to peer into his mind, and figure out what he was really thinking. "And yet you're willing to risk your life, those of your people, and your lands all for an alliance. Why?"
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Being that he wants to unite the kingdoms making peace with them to fight the vikings is counterproductive if he can make an alliance with the Vikings instead.
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“That can be arranged. Anything else?”
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“Mercia and Northumbria could be yours once the latter is conquered...” there’s a brief pause. “I think that it goes without saying that you and your people would refrain from slaughtering innocents and we can divide the land fairly amongst everyone but they would be under your control.”
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"When do we get started?" He asks.
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He wants very much to trust Alfred. He'd been a friend to Ivar when he'd been lonely and vulnerable. He'd like to think some part of that played a part when he called Ivar into this meaning.
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"Would you like to drink and eat first?"
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Hospitality was always a good way to seal a formal deal. Plus, it allowed him to spend more time in Alfred's company, something that he would never say no to.
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So, Alfred called one of the servants and requested meal and drink for the two to share. He thought that maybe he should allow others to join but decided against it. Ivar is far too volatile and there are those in his court he can't trust.
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He pours himself a generous amount of mead as he tears into the food, starting off with the stew. He soaks some bread in it. "Why did you decide to try and persuade me? I'm sure all of your advisers told you otherwise." He knows what they would have said about him. That he was an insane and volatile warlord that couldn't be trusted. That he would stab Alfred in the back the first chance he got. That he was some Godless pagan just interested in causing carnage. But Alfred had apparently listened to his own council.
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Alfred smiles, and he didn't mean the way he said it to be offensive. "I can trust you far more than I can some of the people closest to me here," he's glad then that he can speak Norse and that his servants decidedly cannot. His mother is the only person he's certain he can trust here. He's not blind to the resentment festering in his half-brother. In truth, Athelred was just as likely to take the first chance to stab him as Ivar was only with Ivar Alfred knew what he was getting into and he knew that if they could make an agreement that Ivar would be honorable until he made it clear that he was not honoring their agreement any longer.
It would be no surprise or great betrayal.
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He shifts so that he's leaning a little bit closer to Alfred. "If I stab you, it'll be from the front. Not the back." He means that wholeheartedly. Ivar has been burned and betrayed many times in his life, but he doesn't want to be proven right this time. He wants to believe that this is the start of something new between their new people, and maybe, just maybe, something between the two of them as well.
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“Never mind. How is the food? To your liking?”
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He turns his attention back to the food, stabbing a bit of meat onto his fork. "It's good." He looks over at Alfred. "The company could be better." He's just joking, of course.
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"I do think you would be hard pressed to find such good company as I," Alfred quips with a smile relaxing once more.
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Perhaps it's because of their shared past or merely because Ivar is probably the only one who would dare be so blatant. The English tend to put their kings up on a lofty pedestal where none can touch them. The Norse were far more casual.
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No one in the court had ever or if they had it had never been in such a blatant way that Alfred would actually have noticed.
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As the meal wraps up, he lingers over his drink, still watching Alfred over the edge of his flagon. "Perhaps....we could continue discussing strategy in your chambers?" Is that what they were calling it now?
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Alfred raises a brow at the suggestion and then sets his now empty drink down.
“Very well,” he agrees, though he could hear his mother in his head already detesting such an action. She would say bringing a heathen to his chambers would be more than reckless. She’d have a lot to say that Alfred wouldn’t care to listen to.
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