She was never sure what their relationship had been. She had never seen him as a father-figure, nor a brother, nor a slave. He was simply Athelstan, a stranger who became a friend. He lived in their home, ate with them, told them the stories of his people and eagerly drank up the stories of theirs. She remembered those days fondly. It was so long ago, the last time they were all together. The day she left...

They were on the shore, facing the sea and the boat that would take her away. Papa had been strong, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead, but avoided her gaze. "I will you visit you soon," he murmured softly. Though it was not obvious to all, Gyda could see the guilt in his eyes. It was his fault, after all. As his empire grew, sacrifices had to be made to keep it. Gyda was one such sacrifice. Ragnar's daughter would wed the son of Lothair, King of Burgundy. She remembered how Mama had screamed and yelled and hit, pummeling Papa's beautiful face until blood dripped from her knuckles. But the deal was done, there was nothing Mama could do to change it.

Lagertha stood tall, her chin jutted out in defiance. Her eyes were hard and only softened when they rested upon her daughter. As Gyda fell into her mother's embrace she felt thin strong arms squeeze her. It was almost painful, but Gyda would have gladly stayed in Lagertha's hug for the rest of her days. They had spoken their goodbyes earlier, and Gyda knew it so that her mother can retain her dignity. This was not a private sendoff; all of Kattegat stood on the shore, ready to say goodbye. Lagertha released her daughter and gently stroked her cheek.

As she turned to her brother, Gyda was surprised to see his eyes watering. Bjorn might have pulled her hair and rolled his eyes at lack of veracity, but she never doubted his devotion to her. He gripped her shoulders tightly and awkwardly pulled her to him, and gently whispered in her ear, "If you're husband is mean to you, I will kill him."

Gyda smiled for the first time that day, surprised yet grateful for her brother's open show of affection. "Even though you are a man now, let Mama hold you once in while," she whispered back. Bjorn nodded, understanding why she said it.

Rollo scooped her up in a bear hug and sloppily kissed both cheeks. "Be happy, little one." Gyda nodded. She knew her uncle was a difficult man, who was capable of great violence, but she loved him nonetheless. She remembered sitting on his lap as a little girl, giggling uncontrollably as he told silly stories. With a pang in her heart, she wondered if she would ever laugh again.

Gyda heard the seer clear his throat behind her, but she was not ready. There was one more person she needed to say goodbye too. Athelstan stood a few feet away, behind Bjorn. Only family stood apart on days like these, and Athelstan, however he was treated, was still a slave. She walked towards him and saw his hardened expression soften. They had not seen each other that morning. Athelstan, because he was occupied with his duties and Gyda because she did not get out of bed until absolutely necessary. She had been reluctant to start the day.

"You will be a good queen, someday," He assured her.

"Like Esther?" she asked shakily.

He smiled, genuinely, lovingly. "You are stronger and braver." Athelstan sucked in a deep breath, "Little Gyda," he said softly. "You have been my strength." And she had. Her acceptance and treatment of him had given him hope that his life would improve, that everything happened for a reason. Her willingness to hear his stories had provided him with an outlet and her gentle nature comforted him in times of despair.

His confession broke her. The tears began to fall and her chin quivered. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. Gyda thought back to when her father brought Athelstan to them. At the time, she could have only imagined his fear, his uncertainty, his sense of loss. Standing on beach today, she understood it. That was her now.

"And you will be mine," she whispered. "I will remember your strength and your stories. Always."

And with that she let go and walked to the boat with her head held high. The seer placed his hands over her head and murmured words that she did not care to hear, about family, honor, and bearing sons.

She sat down and faced the sea, determined not to look back. Around her, men yelled instructions, and as they sailed away, she murmured,

"I am like Athelstan. I will survive."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed part one! I should probably mention that this isn't historically accurate, what with the King of Burgundy and everything. A little creative license on my part ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.