Hi all. I've decided to write a Skyrim - Vikings crossover, in part because I loved that show and game, and in part because there is simply nothing on the internet regarding these crossovers. I hope to encourage others to write as well as provide something for those who looked for but couldn't find anything. Consider this chapter as a teaser, I will write more when I can. Please leave your suggestions or comments in the review section, they are a great encouragement to me.
Kattegat:
Children's laughter filled the village as three women walked down the sandy beach on a gloomy morning. All of them seemed to carry a burden that they are more than eager to share with each other. The smallest and plainest among them with loose set blonde hair and a pair of braids broke the silence first. She was flanked by a tall woman of graceful features. Without an uttered word she radiated wisdom and noble upbringing. On the other side walked a woman whose name might as well be passion. Dark hair reaching to her middle back framed a chiseled face with dark eyes that could drive a man mad with passion. Her grace spoke of power but her clothes betrayed that she fell from it a while ago.
"May I tell you something?" the blonde spoke up, drawing attention from both women. After a short pause she continued; "I have had a dream. I dreamed of a stranger. Stranger who was a man, but had no face. Or none that I could see. There was snow on the ground and he was walking towards me trough the snow."
Both other women turned inward, now listening intently. Shocked danced across their face as they looked at Helga retell her story.
She continued; "His footsteps made no sound. His arms were outstretched and in one hand he carried a ball of flaming snow. In his other hand..."
She was cut off by the tall one, who continued the retelling as if she knew it; "His other hand was covered in bright blood."
The blonde turned shocked, looking upwards with discerning eyes, trying to understand, nodding a silent yes.
"And the blood left a trail in the snow behind him" spoke up Siggy, drawing attention of both women.
A "Yes" that begged her to continue was all both other women could say. So she went on; "And the drops were smoking in the frozen ground?"
"You... you too?"
"Yes"
"Both of you?!
Heads turned towards Aslaug as if seeking answers or wisdom. She spoke up; "We have all dreamed the same dream."
Not knowing what to say at the revelation the blonde stammered out a question; "Were you frightened?"
"No" was as swift as an arrow, an answers without a grain of doubt. "I felt excited" she continued, "I felt a sense of expectation".
Heads turned again as Queen spoke her part; "And when I woke up, I was so disappointed it was only a dream"
Siggy approached her with with reverence, looking her in the eyes; "You are a Volva. You say you can see things. What does it mean?"
The Queen nodded her head, all she could say was "I have no idea. I do not know."
Both Siggy and Helga were overcome with disbelief, now moving away as if trying to avoid uncertainty. If a woman of Aslaugs wisdom knew not, what hope did they have of finding out. Had a thunder not sounded shortly thereafter it looked as if they would stay on the beach as if planted. With one last look they parted ways and went home.
Later:
The gentle pouring of rain on the boards and roofs drove all inhabitants of house of Ragnarr to sleep. All but Syggy. She snuck out and headed towards the small isolated hut at the edge of a village. Like a thief she slid in without a sound, fearful,
She tried to gather strength to call for him but all she could do is whisper; "Ancient one, where are you?"
Looking around she could not see his deformed figure that for villages brought solace and wisdom. She turned away from his place near the fire and went looking for him.
A single drop of blood fell on her hand, and gasps of a dying man made her turn. There he was, the Ancient one, bound and bloody, gasping in pain. The shock made her scream. And a scream woke her up.
From her bed she could see the other two women rise and she knew...
They gathered around the fireplace, as if it would offer some solace and refuge. All three covered in thick blankets. Nearby children had a simple shirt upon them, telling that the blanked wasn't there to fight the cold, but dread.
In hushed whispers the Queen spoke; "He was bound..."
"And bleeding" continued Helga. "So much blood upon him. So much blood everywhere."
"It was only a dream" Siggy spoke. Whether to others or to herself she knew not.
"Yes, only a dream" the Queen spoke after a gasp, trying to encourage the others, but fear and uncertainly was carved plainly on her face, causing the words to have the exact opposite effect of the one intended.
Words would no longer help. All they could do is look into the fire for reassurance.
Dawn of the next day:
And reassurance they could not find. Helga yearned to go back to her home, to Floki's. At least she could escape the others. She knew she couldn't escape dreams, but perhaps not sharing them and not having it confirmed would make it easier on her. The path was throd so many times that she needn't look at it to find her way. Or so she thought, as she planted her face in the mod, tripped by something. A bearskin cloak, now not much more than a brown muddy rag lay across the trail. Her eyes searched for anyone that might have left it there and she found it. Against the rocky beach a man lay, his face invisible to her, covered by debris and blood. His hands stretched out and cut, as if asking for help that was refused. Despite never seeing the face, she knew who the man was. She dropped what she had and ran back to Kattegat.