Claimed By A Viking

by T S Florence

  “I need a bath as well,” Hilda said, quietly.

  “Then hop in,” Ragnar gestured towards the bath.

  Hilda’s heart began to race at Ragnar’s invitation, and she suddenly felt a surge of bravery, as her hands started moving while her mind ran blank. She pulled at the shoulder straps of her linen dress, and let it fall to the ground. Beneath it, she was completely naked.

  She felt her nipples harden under Ragnar’s hard gaze. He almost looked angry, as he stared at her body. She was grateful that she had hair that covered between her legs, for she did not want him be privy to absolutely everything.

  A surge of embarrassment at how exposed she was caused her to move quickly into the tub.

  She looked up at Ragnar, and found it hard to avoid the length that was outlined under his linen towel.

  “I will give you some privacy,” Ragnar croaked, his voice hoarse. His face looked hard, and he averted his gaze to the floor as he left the room.

  Hilda’s heart beat slowly went back down as she leaned back and enjoyed the bath. She used the bath oils to scrub her skin and wash her hair. She didn’t stop until her entire body was a rosy pink. And her core had stopped yearning to be filled by Ragnar.

  When she had finished her bath, she went out to the court yard, in a fresh new linen skirt that must have been laid out by one of Ragnar’s servants.

  “Hello Brenna,” Hilda smiled to her friend, who was laying alone in the grass, “where are Torsten and Ragnar?”

  “They have just gone to the markets to look at new weapons shipped from Frankia, I believe Ragnar has gone to see Ivar again, too,” Brenna said.

  “Weapons,” Hilda deadpanned.

  “I know,” Brenna rolled her eyes, before continuing “So what’s the deal with you and Ragnar?”

  “Well, if you haven’t already figured it out, I was his family’s slave for most of my life, since before I was a teenager,” Hilda said.

  “Oh,” Brenna’s face remained serious.

  “We were inseparable, Ragnar and I. We did everything together. When I found out he was leaving to go to England without me, I was heartbroken. He promised he would take me home one day,” Hilda said.

  “So you weren’t really a slave,” Brenna asked.

  “I was a slave by title, but they never treated me like one,” Hilda said.

  “All things considered, you’re quite lucky then. Imagine if it was Dag who took you as a child,” Brenna shivered.

  “I don’t even want to think about that,” Hilda cringed.

  “You clearly love Ragnar. What’s holding you back now?” Brenna asked.

  “England. Ragnar left me, as well. I guess I trust him again, though,” Hilda said.

  “How is England holding you back?” Brenna asked.

  “I haven’t even told Ragnar that part yet,” Hilda said quietly.

  “Well why don’t you practice it with me,” Brenna said, helpfully.

  “It’s kind of strange,” Hilda said.

  “Try me,” Brenna said.

  So, Hilda told Brenna everything. From Elsbeth falling ill in Newcastle and leaving her with her brother Jack, while her and her father travelled back to Kingston, through to being taken and sold to Ragnar’s family, and her choice to never speak of her English life, not about her family, not even her English name.

  “I don’t think I was supposed to hear all of that,” Torsten said, shocking Brenna out of a daze, and causing Hilda to yelp in surprise.

  “Torsten,” Brenna said hotly, “why didn’t you say anything earlier? That was for my ears only.”

  “Hilda, if you know Princess Isla, and if you have family here, you need to go and speak with them,” Torsten said, unhelpfully.

  “I know-” Hilda began to say, before she was cut off by a low growl.

  “You have family here in Newcastle and you didn’t tell me,” Ragnar growled so low, the foundations of the walls felt like they would shake. He dropped his freshly bought weapons to the ground.

  “Ragnar I-” Hilda began.

  “And you told them before me,” He put emphasis on his words, telling her how upset he was with her.

  “Ragnar that’s not fair,” Hilda started to say, but he was already walking back out of the house.

  She caught him just before he got onto his horse. “Ragnar I’m not letting you go without talking about this,” Hilda said.

  “I don’t want to talk. You’re good at talking with anyone but me,” Ragnar said.

  Hilda tried to speak again, but yelped with surprise when Ragnar picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He carried her inside and threw her down onto their bed.

  “Ragnar, be careful,” She said, shocked at his sudden rage.

  “He took her hands and tied them with her dirty linen skirt that was still lying on the floor, and fastened it to the bed.”

  “Ragnar you cannot leave me like this,” Hilda gasped, as he turned towards the door.

  “I can do whatever I want, if you’re my slave. I don’t need you following me,” he growled.

  “Ragnar, I am not your slave! Untie me,” She yelled, hearing her voice mix with the echo of his footsteps in the hall,” but she was met with silence.

  “I hate you Ragnar,” She yelled into the silence.

  After a few moments, Brenna walked into the room, with a guilty look on her face.

  “I’m so sorry, Hilda, this is all my fault,” she said, as she rushed to untie Hilda.

  “Is he still here?” Hilda asked, desperate to catch him.

  “He’s gone,” Brenna said quietly.

  “I hate that man,” Hilda said.

  “No, you don’t,” Brenna said, soothingly.

  “I do, I truly do,” Hilda said, fighting back tears.

  “He just proved to me that he doesn’t deserve to know about my family,” Hilda said.

  Hilda sat and fumed in the kitchen. She tried to distract herself by tearing at pieces of bread; she ate the small pieces absent-mindedly. She could see why Ragnar saw the situation the way that he had, and she could see how it could hurt him, yet she knew that she deserved more patience and understanding from the man who had left her for four years – not only that, but he kept it a secret from her for an entire winter up until Elder Ragnar told her.

  “He is not allowed to be mad at me like this, not after what he put me through,” Hilda turned to look at Brenna and Torsten.

  “You know, it was clear that Ragnar had someone back home during these past for years,” Torsten said.

  “Yes, he had his mother and father back home, who he neglected to contact,” Hilda clipped.

  “I meant a woman,” Torsten said.

  “What are you talking about?” Hilda asked.

  “Ragnar was always excited for battle, but never for the spoils that came from battle,” Torsten. Said, unhelpfully.

  “He loved gold,” Hilda sighed.

  “I’m talking about the women,” Torsten said.

  “I don’t want to know about that,” Hilda groaned.

  “Well that’s fine, because there’s nothing to say. Ragnar rejected all advancements from all the young women who threw themselves at him. He would never tell us why, but I suppose it’s because he had you, his slave, back home,” Torsten said.

  “You’re saying he didn’t touch a single girl because of me, for four whole years? You weren’t with him the whole time, you can’t know for sure,” Hilda said.

  “I know he did not touch a single girl,” Torsten said.

  “How?” Hilda asked.

  “We fought side by side in shield walls. We drank ale together afterwards. You get to know a man doing these things,” Torsten paused momentarily, before continuing. “And you didn’t see the man’s temper change when he heard of Fyrkat. When he heard that someone had taken you from him. He was going to tear the world in half if that’s what it took to find you,” Torsten said.

  “Well luckily he didn’t have to,” Hilda mumbled.

  �
�But he would have,” Torsten pressed.

  The noise of horses and carriages began to grow louder on the street, until it stopped at the front of the house. Hilda, Brenna, and Torsten stood from their chairs and made their way to see what the commotion was. Torsten kept his sword in his hand, like any good warrior would.

  “If something happens while Ragnar isn’t here,” Hilda began to say, but couldn’t finish, because the next words she heard silenced her into shock.

  “Ragnar, open up, it’s your leader and beautiful Princess, Isla,” A strong male voice shouted from the other side of the door.

  A servant looked up at Hilda, her nervous face begging for an answer. Hilda walked past her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and opened the door herself. A tall man with a shining white bear fur stood at the door. He smiled down at down at her. He had a scar that travelled down his face, obviously from a previous battle. He was a large man, but not quite as big as Ragnar.

  With him was a young, blonde-haired woman, who wore a gorgeous light blue dress and had a kind face. A kind face that was unmistakably Isla, Duchess of Newcastle; now, Princess Isla. Hilda felt her stomach tighten and fill with butterflies, as she watched Isla’s face change to one of shock.

  “Isla,” Hilda whispered.

  “I knew it,” Isla said, before she rushed forward and took Hilda in her arms.

  Ragnar

  Ragnar heaved his sword down hard on his opponent, relishing the crunching of the breaking shield.

  “Ragnar, we are only sparring,” the voice of his nervous opponent rang through his dishevelled helmet, causing Ragnar to laugh.

  “Men don’t agree to spar with me and then dance around like a fairies” Ragnar swung his sword against the man’s shield, causing it to fly from his arm.

  “Ragnar, stop,” the man said, growing impatient.

  “You need to learn to lean back from those strikes,” Ragnar said, lowering his sword, “You would be killed in battle by now,” Ragnar sheathed his sword and turned to drink from a great barrel of water and wet his perspiring forehead.

  He was still in a foul mood from what had happened that morning. His best friend, Hilda, had told two near strangers more than she had ever told him. She had told god damned Torsten more than she had told him about her past, and all before goddamned breakfast.

  What made him angrier was that he didn’t know how to deal with all this anger and frustration with Hilda. With a man, he could punch him, swing a sword at him, or even just insult him, but he could never do that to Hilda.

  Ragnar wasn’t so surprised that Hilda suspected she had family in Newcastle, after how weird she had acted about coming here. But she could have told him. He would have helped her. He was frustrated that he let himself react the way that he had, by getting angry at her and leaving like he did. Hilda didn’t deserve this, he knew that.

  Beating a few Englishmen to a pulp in the sparring quarters of the castle had taken away a lot of the anger that he harboured just a couple hours ago. He slowly removed the stinking training armour and made his way back to his horse.

  He took the long way home, trying to figure out how he would approach the situation back in his house. He knew that Hilda was angry with him when he left, and she would likely still be angry when he got back. What he wasn’t expecting to see upon his return, however, was Ivar and Isla’s official escort waiting at his front door.

  He grumbled to himself as he tied off his horse, annoyed that he wouldn’t be able to have some peace in his own home after the morning he had. Having Hilda back in England was more exhausting than a war campaign.

  Ragnar stomped into his house, grumbling under his breath about not having any damn privacy in his own home anymore, only to find his centre courtyard half-filled with humans, most of whom he liked, yet he was not in the mood to be talking to any of them.

  “Ragnar, you’re back,” Ivar smiled, oblivious to the morning’s events.

  “Ivar,” Ragnar grumbled.

  A frown replaced Ivar’s smile, “Ok, everyone out except for Ragnar and his new friend, Hilda,” Ivar commanded.

  “And me,” Isla chirped, her arm through Ivar’s.

  “That goes without saying,” Ivar kissed her forehead.

  Without a single remark, each and every person filed out of the courtyard, nodding in respect to Ragnar as they walked past him. Normally, the princess wouldn’t be left without any guards, but being in the same room as both Ivar and Ragnar left her better protected than an an entire honour guard.

  “What’s going on here,” Ragnar said.

  “You’re being a stubborn mule, that’s what’s going on here,” Hilda responded before Ivar could, her eyes locking with his.

  “Oh, Rose,” Isla giggled.

  “Rose?” Ragnar growled, his voice so low it would rival the growl of a bear.

  “My English name, which you would have known had you not run off earlier this morning,” Hilda replied.

  “Rose like the flower,” Ragnar said, less angrily.

  “Yes,” Hilda said more quietly, her anger deflating at the sight of Ragnar calming down.

  “It suits you,” Ragnar said.

  “Not any more,” Hilda said.

  “It suits you more than Hilda,” Ragnar said.

  “Hilda, like fighter?” Ivar asked.

  “Yes. She’s a fighter,” Ragnar replied.

  “No I’m not,” Hilda said.

  “You are. You’ve always fought for those who needed your help,” Ragnar said, looking at Hilda with sadness in his face.

  “Isla,” Hilda said, looking to the princess.

  “Yes, Rose?” Isla replied.

  “May I take Ragnar for a moment and speak with him in public?” Hilda asked.

  “You mean private?” Isla asked.

  “Yes. Of course. Private. My English is a little rusty,” Hilda said, going red.

  “We can leave if you would like,” Isla said.

  “No, I wouldnt-” Hilda began.

  “We have duties to attend. I would like you both to join us for dinner tonight,” Ivar said, cutting her off.

  “Done,” Ragnar said, before Hilda could reply.

  “And Brenna?” Hilda asked.

  “Your friend? Tell her to bring her lover boy Torsten with her,” Isla giggled, “they’re adorable.”

  Within less than a minute, they were alone, staring silently at each other in the court yard.

  “Ragnar, I want to tell you everything,” Hilda said.

  “Very well,” Ragnar said, sitting down in the grass.

  Rose lay down, putting her head in his lap, and began to tell him everything, from her earliest memories that she had, right through to the moment she was claimed by Ragnar on the shores of Fyrkat.

  “So, Rose.” Ragnar said.

  “It feels weird when you call me Rose,” Hilda said.

  “Hilda was your slave name. You are no longer my slave. I think it is fitting that I call you Rose from now on,” Ragnar said.

  “I’m no longer yours, then” Hilda said.

  “You are your own person, Rose,” Ragnar said.

  Rose lifted herself to her knees, and for the first time since she had met him, looked at him as an equal. But the look on her face was not happiness. It was not even relief. The only expression that Ragnar could make out was confusion. He thought he saw doubt in her eyes too, or maybe it was sadness. Whatever it was, it caused confusion with himself, too.

  7

  Rose

  Rose felt closer to Ragnar than ever before, yet at the same time, she felt more distanced than ever, and it had only been hours since she had told him her story and who she was before she was taken from England. How could he seem so distant? She was sure it was her mind playing tricks on her, since he had made it so clear that she was no longer his slave, to the point that he refused to call her Hilda.

  “Ragnar?” Rose called into his room.

  No answer.

  “Ragnar,” Rose said, walki
ng in.

  Still no answer.

  Rose hesitated before pushing open the bathroom door, her body growing excited from the memories that the room brought back, where she saw Ragnar in his naked, muscled glory.

  As Rose peeked in, she saw Ragnar’s huge body in the iron tub, his head completely submerged under water. The surface of the water was calm.