Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9302756.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Vikings_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Athelstan/Ragnar_Lothbrok, Ragnar_Lothbrok/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Ragnar_Lothbrok, Floki_(Vikings), Bjorn_(Vikings), Ivar_(Vikings),
      Original_Female_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Implied_Athelstan/Ragnar_(past), Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-13 Chapters: 2/? Words: 8164
****** Eyes Like Yours ******
by DaronwyK
Summary
     What if Athelstan had a daughter instead of a son? Fifteen years
     after Paris Ragnar returns with an army to seek vengeance on King
     Eckbert. Major Canon Divergence.
Notes
     A plot bunny that would just not let me go. Let me know if you want
     me to continue it. Vikings and all it's characters are not mine, I
     claim no ownership over them.
***** Ghosts of the Past *****
 

                      RARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA
                                        
                                        

England. It had been so very long and yet he could remember the first time he
had stepped on these shores. It had been nearly fifteen years since Paris,
fifteen years since he had learned of the destruction of his settlement here
and he and Floki had hidden the truth from his people. Fifteen years of
thinking about visiting revenge on King Eckbert and the people of Wessex. It
had been difficult to raise enough warriors to return, many thought that the
Gods had abandoned him. But some had come. Bjorn had joined him, along with
Floki. Ivar was with them, his other sons refusing to sail with their father,
claiming a need to remain behind and protect their mother. He snorted a little,
they were weak...afraid of losing her. Ivar had been hungry for the chance,
eager to prove that he was just as good as any other Viking.
 
As they made the beach, they worked quickly, erecting barriers and fortifying.
Ragnar knew it would not be long before Eckbert was aware of his presence here.
He needed to be ready to deal with him. He was standing, staring at the flames
when Floki came to stand next to him. They were as ready as they could be, now
they would wait. 
 
"Are you ready to do what must be done Ragnar?" Floki asked his friend,
watching him out of the corner of his eye.
 
"I am always ready." He answered, a small smirk crossing his lips. "I dreamt of
Athelstan last night." He sighed. "He was standing on the beach, covered in
blood...trying to hand me something, a bundle in his arms." It had been so
real, as if he could have reached out and touched him. It had been so long
since he had seem him in his dreams.  
 
Floki nodded, jaw tightening at the mention of the Priest. "Just ghosts of the
past Ragnar."
 
"Perhaps." He said and reached over, gripping Floki's shoulder. "I am glad you
are with me, my friend."
 
Floki met his eyes for a long moment and nodded. "I'll be gladder when we kill
that Christian King." He grinned darkly and chuckled.
 
Ragnar laughed as well, and headed to bed, knowing he would need his sleep for
what was to come. He settled back on his bedroll and went deep into himself,
centering his mind. Perhaps if he did, Athelstan would not haunt him so. That
night the Gods were kind, and his sleep was not plagued by dreams. He was woken
by shouts, an armed party was approaching the camp. It was early, the light
just creeping over the horizon.
 
Ragnar got up, putting his weapons on and strode out to see what was coming.
His clear blue eyes fixed on the rider at the head of the party. Eckbert's son,
Athelwulf. He walked to the front of the barricade and saw the prince ride up,
his soldiers hanging back. Eckbert did not disappoint, he was playing exactly
into his hands. 
 
"My father offers to speak with you King Ragnar, and bids me to offer myself as
Hostage...as a gesture of good faith." Athelwulf's eyes searched the crowd and
was relieved to not see the Priest among them. Maybe the man was dead.
 
"We accept that trade." Ragnar nodded to Floki and Bjorn to join him and horses
were brought forward for them, Athelwulf dismounted his own horse and was taken
into the camp.
 
Ragnar rode through the countryside, seeing the changes that had occurred in
his time away. Wessex was apparently doing well these days. He had Athelstan's
cross on, under his armour. He always wore it, a reminder of his friend and all
he had lost to simple jealousy. Contrary to what Floki believed, he had no love
for the Christian's god...but he knew that to understand your enemy was to know
how to conquer them. Understanding the Christians began with understanding
their god. He knew his own Gods would understand that, no matter what others
thought. He wore the cross because it had been *his* and even so many years
after his death, he missed him. He missed talking with him, teaching him about
the world and learning about the things that he had seen. He'd possessed a mind
so different from the others, and he still mourned his loss. Of all his
friends, and his family only Lagertha understood. He had visited her sometimes
in Hedebe during his long absence from the world. She knew the weight on his
heart, and knew nothing could lift it. As they reached the walls around
Eckbert's castle, Ragnar put thoughts of the past away and focused on the
moment. He had much to do to begin his plans. The Guards escorted them into the
great hall, giving the massive Vikings space, their fear tangible. Gods he had
missed this. 
 
Eckbert waited for them there, sitting on his throne. The years had taken their
toll on Eckbert as surely as they had him. Ragnar could see the lines on his
face and the worries that rested there alongside his crown. His court was in
attendance, and out of habit Ragnar's eyes scanned the crowd and stopped
suddenly when an all too familiar pair of eyes met his. It was as if someone
had plucked the eyes from his beloved friend and dropped them into the face of
the beautiful young woman standing just to the left of the throne. She could
not have been more than sixteen years old, but he knew without a doubt who she
was. He hid his notice and surprise, with an arrogant smile.
 
"I must admit...this is a warmer welcome than I expected." Ragnar said, locking
eyes with Eckbert.
 
"Why would I not welcome you, King Ragnar Lothbrok?" Eckbert stood. "We fought
together as allies for our friends in Mercia, and came to peace."
 
"And then you betrayed that peace and slaughtered the people of my settlement."
Ragnar said smoothly, not mincing words as his blue eyes glittered
dangerously. 
 
"I had no hand in it, and punished the nobles that were involved. You have my
word on that. It was a terrible affair." Eckbert said just as smoothly. "I have
no ill intentions towards you, or your people King Ragnar. If I had, would I
have so willingly offered up my only son to you?" He grinned.
 
"Perhaps...perhaps not." Ragnar said enigmatically, eyes unreadable. 
 
"Will you dine with us? We can discuss suitable recompense for the loss of your
people." He smiled, believing that he could fool Ragnar easily enough.
 
Ragnar looked very briefly to Floki and Bjorn and then nodded. "We will eat
with you."
 
"Excellent." He left his throne and walked with Ragnar and the other Northmen
into the dinning hall, where a feast had been prepared. "I do not see Athelstan
with you, I hope he is well?"
 
"The Priest died some years ago." Ragnar said quietly. "He is much missed, as I
am sure you can understand."
 
"I am most sorry." King Eckbert said, some sadness actually seeping into his
face.
 
They sat at the tables and food was served. Ragnar's eyes again found the young
woman who had his friend's eyes. She met his boldly and raised her goblet ever
so slightly to him, an acknowledgement of his notice but not drawing attention
to it. Her hair was black as a raven's wings, and her skin just as pale as the
Priest's had been when they had first met. He knew that this was a bird kept
carefully in a cage, likely in anticipation of their return.
 
"Much has changed since I was here last." Ragnar remarked, hand waving at the
room. "you've grown richer and more powerful."
 
"As have you." Eckbert said. "Now let us drink to absent friends, to
Athelstan." He raised his goblet.
 
"To Athelstan." Ragnar echoed, surprised when Floki lifted his goblet at all.
He saw a shadow pass through the young woman's eyes where she sat. "Will you
not introduce his daughter to me?" He asked boldly.
 
Floki frowned, eyes flying to the girl Ragnar was nodding to. She was a
slender, slip of a girl but she met Floki's eyes...unafraid. He shuddered a
little recognizing the Priest's eyes in her face, a ghost of the past indeed.
 
Eckbert looked surprised but nodded. "This is Atheldraed...her mother is my
daughter in law, Princess Judeth. She was born some time after you left England
the last time." He had hoped the man would not place the resemblance but he
supposed it to have been a faint hope. Atheldraed favoured her father, and as
she grew her resemblance to her mother faded. He had purposefully put off
marrying her to one of his nobles in case of this very eventuality. Athelstan's
daughter would hold value with the King of the Northmen.
 
"It is an honour to meet you at last, King Ragnar Lothbrok." She said with an
elegant incline of her head.
 
"The honour is mine." He said, meaning it. "King Eckbert...I believe we should
speak alone about the price for the loss of my settlement." He said, eyes
shifting back to his old adversary.
 
"Of course, come...we can speak in my throne room." He stood and the two men
walked out of the room to speak.
 
Once they were gone Atheldraed's eyes shifted to Floki and Bjorn. "Did you both
know my father?" She asked, speaking their tongue with surprising skill.
 
"You speak our language?" Bjorn looked surprised, and gave the girl a smile.
 
"Yes, King Eckbert insisted that I learn." She answered his implied question.
"I had tutors that had travelled to your lands."
 
"I did know your father. I knew him from when I was still a boy." Bjorn said.
"He came to us as a slave, but soon proved his worth to our family and earned
our trust. He was a good man." He hoped to keep Floki from saying anything
cruel.
 
Floki suddenly stood and walked around the table, advancing on the girl. He
needed to see something.
 
"Floki...what are you doing?" Bjorn stood and went to stop him.
 
"I will not hurt her." He said and saw the girl wave off the guards. He stood
infront of her, eyes locked on hers. He raised a hand and at her nodd he placed
it on her face and closed his eyes. He saw her, standing in leather armour, the
wind whipping around her body, surf surging around her feet. He moved his hand
away and backed away. "You will have a most interesting life." 
 
She shivered as if cold. "What was that?"
 
"A touch of the Gods, girl." He said and returned to his seat, much on his
mind. 
 
Bjorn was watching him carefully, but sat down and sipped his wine. He knew his
father would never let Athelstan's daughter stay here, with Eckbert. He just
hoped that he was able to get something more for the slaughter of their people
than the daughter of a dead Christian priest. He did not always agree with his
father, but he did agree that they needed to exact a heavy price for the blood
shed here. If Ragnar did not fight, he would command no respect from anyone
again. They were Viking...they needed to fight and conquer, it was in their
blood.
 
Atheldraed rubbed her arms, still cold. "Was my father really a pagan?" It was
a slur that had been hurled at her, her entire life.
 
"For a time, though he returned to his god before his death." Floki said, not
meeting her eyes.
 
She was watching the man carefully, able to feel that there was much unsaid
there. She was about to ask something else when a servant approached her and
spoke quietly. "Excuse me." She said and left the room, following the servant
back to the Throne room where her King and King Ragnar were standing, clearly
having had a heated discussion. She curtseyed. "You asked for me, King
Eckbert?" She asked, her eyes flicking to Ragnar.
 
"I did, my child. Come here." He held out a hand to her, drawing her close.
"King Ragnar has asked that as part of the restitution for the murder of his
people and destruction of his settlement, that you return to his lands with
him." He settled his hand on her back.
 
Her eyes widened slightly. "Leave Wessex? But I..."
 
"It's not a request Atheldraed." Eckbert said, cutting off her protest before
she could finish the thought. "You will be leaving with him tonight."
 
"And if I refuse?" She looked between the men, moving away from Eckbert,
feeling a bit of panic setting in. 
 
"Then I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out." Ragnar said
smoothly. "I would not suggest that option."
 
"I imagine you have questions for King Ragnar...I will leave you to speak to
him." He said and left the throne room with a smile on his lips. Some gold, and
one girl...it was a far better price than he had hoped.
 
"What use could you have for me?" She crossed her arms, hugging herself as a
kind of protection.
 
"I can think of a few." He circled her and trailed his fingers over her hair.
"I give you my word that I will not harm you, nor allow you to be harmed. Your
father was very dear to me."
 
"I know." She whispered, fighting the urge to turn and watch him as he circled
like a wolf. She was no lamb. "He wrote of his time with you, of the things he
saw and felt...and came to believe." She said. "I found his writings, no one
else knows about them."
 
"And what did you think of the things you read?" He plucked at the braiding on
her sleeve, trying to size her up. 
 
"I wonder what was true, and what was fanciful elaboration." She swallowed
nervously. "Will you make me a slave, as you did my father?" She asked quietly.
 
"Not unless I must." He said and touched her cheek gently. "Many things will
happen soon, but you will be safe. Do you believe me?" He stopped then, infront
of her.
 
She met his eyes and nodded very slightly. With everything her father had
written about, through it all, there had been a great love and trust of this
man. She had to believe that he would not have written so unless it was true.
"I do, King Ragnar."
 
"Good, now let us return to finish our meal." He said and gestured for her to
lead the way, a half smile on his lips. "Make sure you bring your father's
writings with you when we leave, I am curious about what he said about me." He
said as they walked.
 
She nodded, still trying to get herself back under control. Her mother was with
her half-brothers, away from the main residence. She sat down, trying to hide
just how frightened she really was. Regardless of what she had read in her
father's accounts of his time among the Northmen, she'd grown up hearing
fearsome stories of what they did to Christian women. She'd always known the
King was just protecting her for this very eventuality, and to keep her
mother's good favour, but it still stung that he'd simply handed her over to
the heathens without a backward glance.
 
"King Eckbert...might I be excused to see to my things?" She finally said, not
able to eat a single bite more. 
 
"Of course my dear, grab only what you can carry. The rest can be packed and
sent along with the gold cart." He said and nodded for her to go.
 
"What have you done Ragnar?" Floki said lowly, watching the girl all but run
out of the hall.
 
"I will explain later." He smiled at his friend, seemingly unbothered, a hint
of a much younger Ragnar peeking out.
 
The rest of the meal passed without much event but Ragnar waited by the horses
for their acquisition to join them. Atheldraed came out, a pouch slung over her
shoulder. She was wearing a cloak, edged in fur, and she looked very uncertain.
 
"Come, you will ride with me." Ragnar said and unceremoniously picked her up
and put her on the horse, mounting behind her and wrapping an arm around her
waist to steady her.
 
She gasped as she was very suddenly pressed up against the Northman sitting
behind her. She forgot how to breath for a moment as they started moving.
 
"Just relax, I won't let you fall." He said, laughing a little at her
nervousness. He remembered Athelstan being like this at first, afraid of the
unknown. "Remember, you said you trusted me." He teased, enjoying the blush
that crept over her cheeks.
 
As they rode back towards the boats, Ragnar shared a look with Floki and Bjorn.
Their escort of guards had outlived their usefulness. He shifted his reins into
the hand that was steadying the girl against him and drew his axe, not drawing
attention to it and then wheeled his mount to the side, striking and taking the
guard right in the face, blood spraying back at him and Atheldraed. Floki and
Bjorn made short work of the other four.
 
Atheldraed began to struggle, but the arm around her waist was like iron. "Let
me go!" She twisted in his grip. She could taste the blood of the guard as it
dripped down her face.
 
Ragnar simply held her tight and kicked his horse on, setting off at speed
towards their fortified position. He knew Floki would be feeling better about
things now, seeing that Ragnar was not going to simply take the offered gold
and leave. There would be blood for blood. As they rode into camp Ragnar tossed
the girl off his horse. "Hold her, she will see this." He said and headed over
to where Athelwulf was sitting. "Take him." Ragnar ordered.
 
The Prince fought hard, but in the end he was taken and pinned to the ground as
Ragnar approached. "Do your worst pagan." He all but spat at Ragnar.
 
"Bring the girl, she will translate his words...and mine." He called for her,
unsurprised to see that Floki was the one now holding the girl, hands locked on
her upper arms.
 
"Atheldraed!" The prince shouted, looking confused.
 
"Tell him that King Eckbert has given you to me." Ragnar said, watching with
keen eyes as she translated. He could speak her words, but wanted to see if she
would do as she was told. He watched the prince's face close off even more.
"Now, tell him that I know he was the one that killed my people."
 
Atheldraed told him, knowing in that moment that the Prince would never leave
the camp alive. A strange sense of satisfaction ran through her at that. He had
mutilated her mother simply for having her, and he had always hated her. She
felt it every time he looked at her, that disgust and contempt.
 
"Tell that savage that he's lucky I didn't crucify all those barbarians." He
spat at them.
 
She relayed his words to Ragnar who just smiled strangely. The big man simply
moved forward and cut his throat, watching dispassionately as he bled out into
the sand on the beach. She closed her eyes and tried to turn away but Floki
held her there.
 
"Look hard girl, that is what happens to Christians. Your dead god will not
save you from us." He hissed into her ear.
 
She opened her eyes and looked, watching as Athelwulf's legs kicked as he
slowly suffocated on his own blood. Finally his legs stopped moving and she
knew he was finally dead. At least he would never hurt her mother again.
 
"Put her in my tent, be certain she cannot escape." Ragnar said. "Ivar, you
will lead the defence of the camp. We move out now, and remind them why they
fear us so! In the name of Odin, let their blood paint the land." He shouted,
his words celebrated with cheers as men gathered swords and shields.
 
Floki dragged the young woman into Ragnar's tent and tied her hands behind her
back, around the main tent pole. "If you want to live, you'll stay put and stay
quiet." He told her.
 
Atheldraed nodded and once he left the tent she closed her eyes, and slid down
the tent pole to sit on the ground. Her whole world was gone, everything she
thought she knew turned right on it's head. She had blood on her face and
clothes and outside the tent she could hear them preparing and singing to their
gods. For men about to go and slaughter innocent people they sounded...joyful.
She closed her eyes and just wished that this was all a bad dream. 
***** Retribution *****
Chapter Notes
     Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to continue this. I hope
     everyone enjoys this next installment.
 
Ragnar sat, eating an apple and watching his men looting the town. They had
swept across the countryside in the night, taking everyone by surprise. This
was the second town, and it's church had yielded a great bounty of gold and
gems. They'd taken a horse and cart and loaded it with their plunder. They
would need to retreat to the boats and be gone before Eckbert could mount an
organized response. He had killed the king's son and knew that there would be
an answer for that death, if he waited long enough to hear it. He watched his
son approaching and he smiled.
 
"Two towns destroyed and the King's son dead...I believe that is answer enough
for the settlement." Ragnar said as Bjorn sat down beside him and took an apple
as well.
 
"We will need to leave before he comes for us with the full strength of his
armies." Bjorn said, watching as their men started gathering to head back to
camp. "I am sorry I doubted you, father." He turned his head and looked at his
father. There was a light in his eyes today, had been ever since they had seen
the girl. His father had not been the same after they had lost Athelstan and
now it was as if he had his drive and fire back again. He'd put up with a
hundred girls if it meant he had his father back again.
 
Ragnar grinned and clapped his shoulder. "Come, let us return to the boats." He
grabbed his shield and sauntered off. He ached everywhere, he was covered in
blood, and he hadn't felt this good in years. He laughed as Floki swung an arm
around his shoulders. It was as if time had lifted years from both their
shoulders and they were back at Lindisfarne, high off their first raid into
England.
 
"Did you hear them scream Ragnar?" Floki grinned. "It was a beautiful sound."
 
Ragnar smiled. "The sight of you is enough to frighten anyone Floki." He
teased.
 
"You're one to talk, you old goat." He teased back.
 
They remained alert on their trek back to the boats, but there was no
resistance, not yet. Ragnar did not completely relax until he could see that
the camp was untouched. The barricade was opened for them and he went over and
gripped Ivar's head, touching his forehead to his son's. "No trouble?"
 
"No." Ivar looked disappointed.
 
"Good." Ragnar clapped his shoulder. "Start breaking camp, stow all the plunder
on the boats." He called to the others and headed to his tent to clean up. He
started pulling off his armor as he entered, and looked at the girl who was
still tied to his tent pole. There was still dried blood painting her face from
last night. "I would have thought someone would have checked on you." He
splashed water over his face and dried it off before going over and untying her
wrists. He was grateful Floki had not bound her wrists too tightly or there
could have been damage from being left so long.
 
"No one came." Atheldraed did cry out in pain as he pulled her arms around in
front of her, and rubbed them roughly to bring the circulation back. She closed
her eyes tightly, just enduring it as she knew he was trying to help.
 
"Shhh....it will feel better in a moment." He said and stopped after a while.
He helped her stand and brought her over to the wash basin, grabbing a cloth
and cleaning the blood off of her face. He had to scrub a little to get the
dried brown flecks off her skin but in the end he was satisfied. "Sit" He
nodded to a trunk and finished cleaning himself up. He took her to the latrine
area to relieve herself and then he took her back to his tent. He could see
everything was being taken down. He pulled a bundle of clothes out of the trunk
and tossed them to her. "Put those on."
 
"But why?" Atheldraed opened the bundle seeing pants, shirt, boots and a
heavier cloak.
 
"Because you'll freeze in that on the open water." He said. "Get changed."
Ragnar's tone did not invite further questions.
 
She arched an eyebrow. "Wait outside."
 
"No." He grinned and sat down. "Do it yourself, or I will do it for you." He
crossed his arms across his chest, face expectant. "If you take too long,
they'll take the tent down around us and my men will have quite the show." He
chuckled a little.
 
She blushed bright crimson and turned her back to him, fingers fumbling with
the broach that kept her cloak on. It fell to the ground and she untied the
belt at her waist. Her heart was pounding in her best as she started lifting
the overdress. She pulled it over her head and tossed it aside, standing there
in only her shift. She turned around and grabbed the pants and pulled them on,
keeping her shift on for modesty. The pants were a little big but she tied the
belt tight. She carefully managed to get the shift off and the shirt on without
him seeing anything. She slipped the boots on and tightened the leather lacing
to fit them to her feet.
 
Ragnar was still smirking as he stood, and pulled the heavy wool cloak around
her shoulders and fastened it. "You'll stay close to me, not everyone else will
be kind to you." He warned her. "I can only protect you if you are with me." He
gripped her chin and made her meet his eyes. "Do you understand?"
 
Atheldraed felt a shiver go through her, but didn't break his gaze. "I
understand, King Ragnar." She said.
 
"Good, come with me." He said headed out of the tent as it started to be taken
down. "Ivar!" He called to his son who crawled over to him, eyes on the girl in
a way that gave him some cause to worry. "This is Atheldraed, the daughter of
Athelstan." He said. "She is under my protection, and will be returning to
Kattegat with us." He explained.
 
"What use do we have for some Christian girl?" Ivar sneered a little, seeing
her as inferior.
 
"Uses that concern me, and my plans." Ragnar gave him a light rap on the back
of the head. "Behave around her mmm?" He warned his son and picked the girl up,
carrying her out to the boat and setting her in it. "Sit there, and keep quiet
while we prepare to leave." He told her and went back to get Ivar as well,
giving him a warning look before he went to help load some provisions.
 
"So...you're the daughter of my father's dead friend." Ivar said, blue eyes
raking over her. She'd looked prettier in the dress, these clothes hid her body
but he knew they would keep her warmer. "I wonder if he'll fuck you like he
fucked your father." He said crudely, meaning to shock her.
 
She blushed darkly and looked away. "I imagine he has plans for that." She
answered quietly. "I may not be a slave, but I know that without his protection
I won't survive long." Atheldraed made herself look at him. He couldn't be much
older than she was. "Did you know my father?" She asked.
 
"No, he died when I was a baby, just before my father raided Paris for the
first time." He said.
 
She nodded quietly. "I had always hoped to meet him one day, when the Northmen
returned to our shores. But at least I know he died when I was small and there
was never any chance I could have known him."
 
"Who is your mother?" Ivar asked, ignoring the bustle around them.
 
"Princess Judeth, daughter of King Aella, and wife to the man your father
killed in the camp last night, Prince Athelwulf." She said.
 
"Are you sad that he is dead?" She did not appear to be, but he had been her
mother's husband. It puzzled him.
 
"No, I am glad to see him dead. He will never hurt my mother again now." She
said softly, a small satisfied smile on her lips. "I am only sorry she did not
get to see him die with her own eyes."
 
Ivar nodded. "My mother was a Princess as well, before she married Ragnar."
 
"Having a good talk, children?" Floki said as he swung up into the boat, other
following him.
 
"Just hearing about how she is the daughter of a Princess." Ivar said, leaning
back against the mast. "Did you ever think Athelstan capable of seducing a
Princess Floki?" He grinned darkly.
 
"He was fair enough of face." Floki snorted, dismissing it. Yes, the Priest had
been fair of face, there was no denying that, but it was his compelling eyes
that made him so desired by Ragnar, and others. Floki avoided looking the girl
in the eye, not wanting to feel guilty for killing her father. He had paid for
that crime, the gods exacting a heavier penalty than even Ragnar had. He knew,
in his heart, that it had been jealousy that had possessed him that night.
Ragnar had moved on from it, but he never could. Ragnar was not the only one
haunted by the dead Priest.
 
Atheldraed wanted to ask him more but fell silent as Ragnar returned to the
boat, everyone stowing their shields on the side and they began powering away
from the beach. She watched as the shoreline drew further and further away and
felt tears stinging her eyes. She knew in her heart that she would never see
her home again. The sails were unfurled and she watched them fill with the
wind, speeding them along. Once the land had disappeared from view she closed
her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, refusing to cry. She would not
let them see her tears.
 
She kept quiet and out of the way until it grew dark and Ragnar motioned to her
to come and sit next to him against the bow of the ship. Atheldraed could feel
the chill in the air and didn't turn away his offer to share his heavy cloak.
"How long will we be at sea?" She asked him quietly, taking the water skin he
offered and drinking from it.
 
"With luck less than a week." He said. "If we have fair seas." He said, giving
her some smoked fish to eat. "Ivar says you were happy I killed Prince
Athelwulf, why?" He asked her.
 
"Because he hated me, and I was afraid of him." She answered back, staring out
at the darkness.
 
"He was your mother's husband, why would you fear him?" He was confused by
that.
 
"Because I was the evidence that his wife was unfaithful. When I was born, he
had my mother dragged from her childbed, out through the streets and cut off
her ear in retribution for her infidelity. He'd had had more done to her if
King Eckbert had not stopped it. I think he only did stop it because she
admitted that I was Athelstan's child. Otherwise they'd have cut off her other
ear, and her nose." She turned her head to look at him.
 
"Why did she not divorce him?" He looked shocked that a man would mutilate his
own wife so.
 
"Women have no right to do that, not in Christian lands. We are the property of
our fathers, and then of our husbands." She explained.
 
"And they call us savages." He said and shook his head. "You will find many
things different than what you know amongst us. And if you wish to learn about
our gods, there is no better teacher than Floki...he knows the secrets of the
gods better than anyone I know." He nodded to the silhouette of the boat
builder in the dark.
 
"I don't think he'd want to teach me." She answered back.
 
"The only way to know, is to ask him." Ragnar said quietly. "Get some sleep
now, the sun wakes early." He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. He
felt her tense a little but slowly it bled away and she settled against his
side.
 
"Goodnight." She whispered and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep after
the long, exhausting day.
 
               RARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA
                                        
The sun was blinding, and Atheldred found herself squinting to protect her eyes
from the glare off the water. No one else seemed to be having problems with it,
so she just assumed that she would get used to it. She rubbed the bridge of her
nose, keeping her eyes closed for a while to give them a break. She jumped as a
hand touched her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Floki there. "Floki?"
 
"Sun hurting your eyes?" He asked and at her nod he sat down in front of her.
"Lets see if I can help with that." Ragnar had nudged him to go over to her,
and finally he had relented. "Close your eyes and keep still." He told her,
pleased when she did as she was told. He pulled a little clay pot out of his
pouch and a long thin stick. He put some black paste on it and carefully lined
her eyes, keeping it simple at first and then drawing a small line from the
corner of her eye up towards her eyebrow. He sometimes did this for Helga,
enjoyed it actually. "There...now let's see." The ship was rocking too much to
dare apply it inside her lower lashes but the difference was startling.
 
"What is it?" She asked him, the light not piercing into her skull so terribly
now.
 
"It is Kohl, it protects your eyes from the sun on the water." He explained and
put the little pot away safely. "Many men and women wear it all the time to
enhance their beauty as well." He teased a little.
 
"Is that why you wear it?" She teased back.
 
He snorted. "I am no beauty...but I build ships and spend most of my days near
the water. It has simply become part of who I am." He stood and left her
sitting there, near the mast.
 
Atheldraed watched him for a time, trying to puzzle him out but he was as much
a mystery to her as the rest of them. Being on the ship with so many men had
been an...illuminating experience, especially after her very sheltered
upbringing. She'd nearly died the first time one of the women had shown her how
to go to the bathroom, not to mention how the men seemed very unconcerned with
anyone seeing them do so. She did have to own that other than her own
embarrassment at what appeared to be normal situations aboard a ship, no one
bothered her. It was not at all like the stories they were told of vicious
Northmen raping Christian women for sport, or perhaps the King's protection was
truly sheltering her from such treatment. Given what King Ragnar had said, they
had to be getting close to Kattegat.
 
"Look." Ragnar said, from his spot at the rudder. "We're nearly home!" He
grinned.
 
Atheldraed looked at the horizon and saw the spot that he must be referring to.
It was growing larger as the wind carried them forward. She couldn't help the
nervous flutter in her stomach. Land. She had never been so far from home, and
she had nothing but her father's writings to tell her what was waiting for her.
As the speck on the horizon drew closer she watched the activity level in the
boat rise, the sail was taken down and wrapped, men were rowing harder and
looking eager to see their families. She just huddled close to the mast and
stayed out of the way. Her eyes picked out a crowd gathering on the shore and
docks, waiting for them and she felt her nervousness return full force.
 
The boat bumped against the dock and she watched ropes being tossed to tie it
off. Her eyes followed Ragnar's oldest son, Bjorn, as he stepped off the boat
and caught a beautiful woman in a deep kiss, hand tangling in her almost white
blonde hair. She blushed and looked away, unused to seeing such behaviour in
public and was caught in Ivar's piercing blue gaze. She shivered a little and
was grateful when a man hopped onto the ship and scooped Ivar up in what she
could only describe as a brotherly hug, carrying him off the ship. She let out
her breath and then let out a small cry as she was dragged up to her feet by
Ragnar. He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes and she was struck
by just how similar the two men's eyes were.
 
"You will stay close to me, if you stray what happens to you will be your own
fault." he cautioned and helped her off the boat and then headed off through
the crowd, not looking back at her. She had to walk quickly, squeezing through
the crowds to keep up with him. She stumbled a little, getting used to the
ground not shifting under her. She saw a woman waiting just ahead, the crowds
giving her space. Her blonde hair was up off her face in a set of beautifully
complex braids and twists. She smiled as the drew closer.
 
"Ragnar, I am glad to see you and my son safe at home again." She said, placing
a hand on Ragnar's chest as they stopped. "Has Ekbert paid for his treachery?"
 
"He has...with the blood of his only son and the loss of two settlements of his
own." Ragnar said, placing a hand over hers. "I dreamt of you, Lagertha." He
said softly. "Dreamt of our family, before everything, can you forgive me for
it all?"
 
Atheldraed could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke to this woman, and she
realized this was his first wife. The shield-maiden Lagertha of whom her father
had written of with such affection. She was beautiful.
 
Lagertha raised her hand and stroked it down Ragnar's cheek. "The gods wove our
fates...but it has been a long time since I blamed you for any of it." She said
to him, and was quiet for a long moment before her eyes shifted and sought out
the girl half-hidden behind her former husband. "Who is this?" She arched an
eyebrow at her husband, a look of almost exasperation on her face.
 
Ragnar shifted and drew Atheldraed forward. "This is Atheldraed. She is
Athelstan's daughter, it seems he slept with Princess Judeth at least once
before he left England." He chuckled.
 
Lagertha smiled then, her face softening. "Then I welcome you, daughter of
Athelstan." She reached out and took her hand. "You will always be welcome in
my hall and my home, just as your father was."
 
"Thank you, Lagertha. It is an honour to meet you, my mother told me stories
about your visit to Wessex." Atheldraed said.
 
"Come, Queen Auslaug has organized a feast to celebrate the safe return of the
ships." There was a strange tension in her voice when she mentioned the Queen.
"You must drink with me, and tell me of the adventure that brought you here."
She slipped an arm around the girl's waist, taking charge of her.
 
Atheldraed looked at Ragnar.
 
"Go with her, I must speak with my wife." He looked less than thrilled at
the prospect, but disappeared into the crowds.
 
"Do not worry, I won't let anyone harm you." Lagertha reassured the young
woman, taking her to the house she and her people had been using. "Astrid, get
a bath ready, we have a guest." She called for the dark-haired warrior that
guarded her and warmed her bed. "This is Atheldraed, daughter of an old friend
and our guest. Lets see if we can find her something nicer to wear for feast
mm?"
 
"Yes, my Lady." Astrid smiled and called to the slaves to fill the bath and
went to see if she could find a dress that might fit the slender young woman.
 
"So, sit and tell me more about yourself." Lagertha poured her some wine. 
 
"Thank you." She said and accepted the wine, sipping it. "There is not a lot to
tell...I grew up in King Eckbert's home and he made sure that I learned to
speak your language as well as read and write in my own. I think he always knew
that King Ragnar would return, and I think he hoped to use me to buy some
goodwill." She said quietly. "He offered me and gold to King Ragnar to try and
atone for what he did to your settlement, and Ragnar pretended to accept. Once
he had me, they killed Prince Athelwulf and then attacked Wessex in the night,
before a defence could be organized against them. He said he would not make me
a slave...unless he had to." That worried her, the uncertainty.
 
"Athelstan meant a great deal to both Ragnar and myself, he will do what he
must to keep you safe. Your father's death was very hard on him, and he
shouldered the responsibility for that death alone for many years." Lagertha
said quietly.
 
"How did my father die?" She asked her, needing to know.
 
"He was killed by someone he knew, someone both he and Ragnar loved and
trusted. I will not name him, that will be for Ragnar to tell you when he is
ready to do so. I do not think that the man is a danger to you, and he was made
to pay for his crimes." She said, looking up as Astrid rejoined them. "Lets get
you cleaned up mm?" She stood and offered the girl a hand.
 
Atheldraed smiled and took it, standing and following her to the back room.
There was a tub, filled with steaming water and the smell of herbs lingered in
the air. She was a little shy as Lagertha helped her undress and she slipped
into the hot water with a sigh. It felt so good to be warm. She startled a
little as Lagertha brought over a stool and started unbraiding her hair,
combing out the tangles with a gentle hand.
 
"Is it true that you are an Earl...a leader on your own?" She asked, letting
the older woman tend to her hair.
 
"I am." She grinned. "I remember your mother asking many questions about our
gods and our ways. It seemed to fascinate her." She scrubbed the salt and sweat
from the girl's beautiful black hair and once it was clean she worked a lightly
scented oil into her hair and started toweling it dry while the girl soaked in
the warm water. "I can understand why she was drawn to Athelstan, he loved to
speak of the gods, both your god and ours. He was unlike anyone I had known, so
willing to question and brave enough to wait for his own answers." She missed
the Priest, missed the days at their little farm before Ragnar had become
Earl...before they had lost Gyda and one another. "I am glad you are here with
us."
 
"I am too...I mean I am afraid, and unsure but where I grew up I was always
afraid. I knew that if anything had happened to King Eckbert I'd have been as
good as dead. At least here there are people that loved my father." She said
and got out of the tub as Lagertha held up a robe for her.
 
"Yes, there are." Lagertha squeezed her shoulder and had her sit down in front
of the mirror. "Will you let me do your hair for you?" She offered, remembering
doing her own daughter's hair, so long ago. Torvi was the closest thing she had
to a daughter now, but it was different.
 
"Like yours?" She asked, meeting the other woman's eyes in the polished mirror.
 
"Something similar." Lagertha nodded and she took her time, combing her hair
out and braiding some sections and twisting others. She left most her hair
loose, keeping the braids and twists to the sides and crown of her head. She
had Atheldraed close her eyes and she re-lined her eyes with khol.
"There...beautiful." She grinned. The dark lines making her eyes brighter,
letting them stand out.
 
Atheldraed turned to look in the mirror and was taken aback. She didn't even
look like herself. The braids pulled the hair back from her face, and the khol
pulled the focus to her eyes. "Thank you." She managed to say, trying to take
it all in as Astrid rejoined them.
 
"This should fit her, until we can get her some dresses of her own." Astrid
laid out a deep red gown, the embroidery at the neck and sleeves was with white
thread, a pattern of little flowers.
 
"Perfect, thank you Astrid." Lagertha said fondly and they got Atheldraed
dressed quickly. They had to adjust the lacing at the sides of the dress to
make it fit a little better but when they were done, she looked like she
belonged there.
 
The three women headed to the great hall to join the feast, the sky growing
dark as they walked inside. It was crowded, the fires burned in the braziers
and food was laid out on long tables. Atheldraed's eyes picked out Ivar,
sitting with three other men and a woman dressed very finely with gold
glittering in her hair. "Is that Queen Auslaug?" She asked Astrid as they were
all brought drinks.
 
"Yes...and her sons, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd, and Ivar." Astrid named them,
pointing out each. "Of all of them, be wary the most of Ivar..." She spoke
softly, so as not to be overheard. "And be wary of the Queen herself."
 
Atheldraed nodded and sipped the very strong drink she'd been handed. She let
her eyes wander and she saw Ragnar, Floki, Bjorn and a whole host of men
sitting and talking in the corner, laughing heartily together. "What do you
think they are talking about?" She asked.
 
"Probably recounting their battles in Wessex." Astrid smirked. "Men always love
to embellish their conquests, be it lands, ships, or women."
 
Atheldraed blushed darkly.
 
"So...has he taken you to his bed yet?" Astrid asked, eyes sparkling.
 
Atheldraed nearly choked on her drink, and wanted to crawl under the table.
 
Lagertha was laughing heartily. "She's just a girl, leave her be Astrid." She
had no doubt Ragnar intended to have her in his bed, but she hoped he'd give
her more time than he'd given Athelstan. "If Ragnar had taken her to his bed
all ready, he would not be sitting at the far end of the hall just looking at
her." She grinned, enjoying how easily she blushed. She could see Ragnar's eyes
on the young woman, and could not find it in herself to even be jealous.
 
               RARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARARA
                                        
"So...who is she?" Ubbe asked Ivar as they enjoyed the feast, his eyes taking
in the dark-haired beauty sitting with Lagertha and Astrid. "And why did our
father bring her back with him?"
 
"She's the daughter of our father's pet Christian, Athelstan and a Saxon
princess. Her name is Atheldraed." Ivar said, sipping his meade. "Father said
he has some use for her, some plan." He shrugged. "Personally I think he just
wants to have her."
 
"Can you blame him?" Hvitserk chuckled.
 
Ubbe just smirked. Their father had always had a weakness for beautiful women.
He noted that his mother did not look nearly as amused as they were. "What will
happen now that father has returned?" He asked his mother.
 
"What do you mean? I am Queen in Kattegat, his return has changed nothing." She
said and stood, excusing herself to go and talk with her guests, back straight
and head held high.
 
~TBC~
 
 
 
 
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