AN: This is my first time writing a "Vikings" fanfic. I hit a writer's block with the other stories I was writing and I watched a full day of "Viking" on TV and bam! I got a spark of creativity... Maybe... LOL! This story doesn't follow what's really going on in the series "Vikings" or what did happen on "Vikings." Well, let me know what you guys think and happy reading lovelies! :)

Chapter 1

Tóra was awoken by the sounds of loud screams and commotion outside of her home. She stumbled out of bed and towards the door to peer out, shaking with fear.

"No! No! No!" she chanted over and over again in fear. "This can't be happening! Not again!"

Tóra was once the princess of a small village that was raided and conquered nearly three years ago. The King's son who led the raid of her village came upon her just in the nick of time. He ordered his warrior to leave her unharmed and return her to their camp where he would take her on as a servant. She was already lucky to have made it out alive the first time, she knew she surely wouldn't be as lucky this time.

She quickly turned to try and find somewhere to hide in order to at least delay her impending death. As she turned, she was violently yanked backwards causing her to fall to the ground. She was then drug from her quarters out into the melee. She cowered before her attacker, waiting for what was to be next.

"Quite the beauty you are," the warrior toyed with her, using his sword to tilt her head up to look at him. "It's a shame I'm going to have to kill you, I would love to have my way with you. I would even consider keeping you for myself." He pulled his sword back and over his head, ready to strike.

Tóra prayed as tears streamed down her fair cheeks, as she waited for her death to come. She prayed to the Gods that her death would be quick and painless.

"Stop!" a strong voice shouted. She peeked out of one eye to see a new man before her on a horse.

The warrior put down his sword. "My Lord..."

"Stand up," he barked at her.

Tóra did as she was told. She felt vulnerable and exposed as she stood in front of him wearing her night clothes. She wanted so baldy to take her hands and cover herself, but she did not dare move. There was a long silence, as the roar of the battle continued behind them. It was then she looked up at him. He was still scrutinizing her with his piercing, icy blue eyes.

"She is not to be killed," he decreed. "She is not to be harmed or touched. She is to gather what she can carry and taken back to Kattegat. I will take her on as a servant," the man decided as he stroked his beard in thought.

"But My Lord..." the warrior protested.

The man on the horse glared at the warrior. "If you will not do as you are told, then you will go and make yourself useful to me. Finish our victory here."

The warrior bowed his head and headed off to the fight. The action was nearly over. The task of burning what was left of the village was all that was left. There was an eerie silence that fell over the decimated village that rang loudly now in Tóra's ears.

"Off with you. Gather your things. I will not wait long," he barked at her, breaking the silence of death that had fallen over her former village.

She quickly scurried back into her quarters. She shoved as much of her belongings as she could into a bag before he barked at her to come out. She timidly stepped out of her quarters, not looking up at him. All she could hear was the crackle of the fire as they set her home ablaze.

"You there," he shouted.

She looked up at him, unsure if he was speaking to her or not. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized he was not.

"Take that bag and bring it back to Kattegat. I have myself a new servant," he said as a slight smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "You will ride with me," he ordered, extending his bloody hand out to her. He easily pulled the tiny woman up on the horse with him.

She settled herself behind him, unsure of if she should hold onto him or not.

"I suggest you hold on," he again barked at her.

She slid her arms around his waist as she was told.

With that the horse took off. The rusty smell of blood coming from his body filled her nostrils as the wind rushed into her face. She took the opportunity to look him over while he seemed to be distracted. He looked young to her, she noticed as she studied his blood splattered face. He had a tattoo on the side of his shaved head. She could not make out what it was. His hair was braided into five separate braids at the top and then braided into a single braid down the back of his neck. Power, strength and arrogance were a few qualities that just oozed from him. It did not take the Gods or a seer to know that. His eyes were a piercing, icy blue. They were beautiful but very expressive. They could cut right through you.

Suddenly he slowed his horses pace to a walk. "Your name? What is your name?" he demanded, never turning around.

"Tóra," she answered softly.

"Ah, Tóra? After the God of Thunder?" the man mused. "Why would your father name you so?" he pressed.

Tóra shrugged, not wanting to speak of her fallen father.

"I am Ragnar, Ragnar Lothbrok," he informed her.

Her eyes grew wide. His reputation as one of the most brutal and ruthless Kings, preceded him. He was driven by his quest for not only wealth and land but knowledge made him different from the rest of the Kings though. The other Kings were only thirsty for land and riches. Almost everyone throughout the land knew the name of Ragnar Lothbrok. He was known for his great fighting skill and many brutal and bloody battles. His name was feared, revered, loved, and hated all at the same time.

"We are close to Kattegat," he told her.

She nodded in acknowledgement.

"I will find you quarters to call your own."

"Thank you," she responded, her voice shaky and unsure.

He grinned slightly.

His smile makes him even more handsome, she thought silently. How can someone so brutally savage be so handsome? she pondered.

He strode into Kattegat to a round of cheers and claps from his people. "Again, victory was ours!" he shouted. He dismounted his horse, turning back around to face Tóra. He reached his hand up to help her off of his horse.

"And who might this be," a man with long brown hair questioned Ragnar.

"My new servant brother," Ragnar answered as he embraced his brother.

"Ragnar spared a life?" his brother questioned almost mockingly.

Ragnar's icy blue eyes eyed disapprovingly at his brother. "It was not me who decided, it was the Gods who decided my dear Rollo."

"Are you sure it was the Gods?" Rollo pressed with an impish smile.

"It was the God's choosing. I spare no one but today, the Gods intervened and saved her life," Ragnar explained through clenched teeth, clearly annoyed with his brother.

Rollo nodded, smile still plastered across his face. "If you say so my brother, if you say so."

"Follow me," Ragnar barked annoyance still very present in his voice.

Tóra obeyed Ragnar's orders and followed silently behind him.

"This is my home," he told her, pointing to the large camp in front of them. "This will be your new home," he informed her, pointing to the smaller structure directly next to his camp. "Go and make yourself at home, I need a bath."

Ragnar watched intently from his seat as Tóra played with some of the village children. Though she had no children of her own, she was a natural with them. She laughed and played with them as if they were her own. She had been with Kattegat for about a month though and the rest of the community was beginning to accept her as one of their own. Even some of Kattegat's women were beginning to speak to her.

"It seems as though she is beginning to fit in nicely my brother," Rollo posed, taking a seat next to Ragnar and breaking his concentration.

"Indeed," he answered shortly, returning his attention to the golden haired woman.

"It also seems as though you have taken a liking to her as well?" Rollo poked. "Or should I say you have had a liking of her since the day you brought her here?"

Ragnar's eyes snapped from Tóra to Rollo. "And just what do you mean by that my brother?" Ragnar questioned, trying to keep his anger in check, knowing his brother liked nothing more than to rile him up.

Rollo shrugged. "I mean nothing by it; I am merely saying can see why. She is beautiful, with her light hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. The mystery surrounding her adds to the enchantment."

Ragnar's eyes followed her every move as she twirled around with and sung to the children. He abruptly stood up, walking away from his brother. He strode over to her with his head held high. She did not notice him standing behind her until she saw one of the children looking behind her. She turned around and was met by his icy blue eyes. He was so close to her she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"My Lord?" she greeted him, bowing her head.

"Go and find your best dress," he ordered. "You will meet me in the great hall for dinner," he continued and then turned and walked away before she could answer.

Tóra dug through her belongings in search of something suitable to wear in front of this type of company. She was lucky to still be in possession of some of clothing from when she was a member of royalty herself. She quickly bathed and decided on a turquoise dress that formed a 'V' in the front. It was embellished gold decoration that lined the neck, arms, shoulders, and front of the dress.

It was a drastic change from her normal servant clothing. She braided her long golden hair back into a single braid. As she was dressing, she couldn't help but to wonder why Ragnar had ordered her to dinner in the hall. She sighed softly before making her way to the hall. She was met by a guard at the entrance.

"And how can I help you?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Ragnar sent for me," she answered.

"Hmmm... I bet he did," the guard answered with a laugh. "You are a pretty little thing though, aren't you?" he continued, eyeing her up and down.

"I am sure I just heard her tell you I sent for her, did I not?"

"Oh, My Lord... I..."

"You will do well to listen the next time, won't you?" Ragnar pressed his displeasure evident in his tone.

The guard nodded.

"Come," Ragnar ordered looking at Tóra.

She did as she was told, following closely behind Ragnar. The hall was loud and bustling with loud and drunken warriors and their women.

Ragnar came to a stop. "Sit," he ordered, nodding at the chair next to his.

Again, she did as she was directed, and took the seat next to Ragnar. She ate silently, although all she wanted to do was ask him why he had called her there. Out of fear of the answer, she remained quiet. It seemed like she had been there for ages. Ragnar ate, drank, and enjoyed many conversations with his warriors.

"So, tell me about yourself?" Ragnar finally spoke before taking a large drink from his cup of ale.

She turned to look at Ragnar. "What would you like to know, My Lord?"

"Anything. Tell me your story?" he prodded.

"My story? I do not really have a story. I was just once the princess of a long conquered village. The Gods must be smiling upon me though because I was spared and taken as a servant due to the King's son taking a liking to me and the once again when you spared my life. That surely cannot just be good luck," she began.

Ragnar nodded, greedily taking in her information. "So tell me, what is the story behind your name?"

She smiled warmly as the memories of her father flooded her memory. She missed her father dearly. When the raids would come she would pray to the Gods to take her so she could be with her father even though she knew it was not a noble death. She surmised that was the reason she was still alive. That or the Gods just did not want her. "My father named me so because I was a... Shall we say difficult? Child and a more difficult woman," she divulged with a laugh.

Ragnar was memorized by her smile... He laughed along with her at her answer, watching her facial expressions change as she recalled her story. Her eyes seemed to twinkle like the stars when she smiled.

"I suppose that is the reason he married off all of my sisters and not me," she recalled, which made her laugh again.

"Are you betrothed?" Ragnar asked abruptly.

"No My Lord. I was never betrothed or married."

Ragnar sighed an internal sigh of relief, not that it mattered anymore at this point.

"My father said he would have a difficult time finding someone to put up with me," Tóra continued.

"And what do you think?" he asked, a playful smile on his face.

"I think it is just as well. If a man is not strong enough to put up with me, well then he does not deserve me," she answered candidly, forgetting for a moment who she was speaking to and who she was now. "My apologies, My Lord, if I spoke out of line," she added quickly in the hopes of not angering him.

Ragnar could not stop the smile from spreading across his lips. "So you are still pure?" he mused, playfully.

"Yes My Lord," she answered, blushing at how forward his question was. She shifted nervously in her chair.

"How old are you?" he continued, not at all concerned with the fact that the conversation was making her feel uncomfortable.

"Twenty-one."

"No children? Never married?" he pressed.

"No My Lord."

"Admirable," he answered. The playful smile was still on his face.

"Forgive me My Lord if I speak out of line, but why have you asked me to come here?" she finally asked, praying to the Gods her questions did not anger him.

"For dinner," he answered simply with a shrug.

"Ah brother, are you enjoying yourself?" a dark haired man asked loudly with a smug smile on his face.

"I am brother," Ragnar answered, trying to keep his irritation to himself. "This is my brother Rollo," Ragnar explained as he gestured towards the man.

"And who might you be?" Rollo asked with the same smug smile.

"Tóra," she answered.

"Tóra?" he repeated. "Beautiful name for a beautiful lady," he answered with a wide smile.

She nodded in thanks to his compliment. She shifted her eyes from Rollo to the table feeling uncomfortable about the situation.

"Is there anything else I can help you with Rollo or will that be all?" Ragnar snapped through clenched teeth.

"That is all... For now my dear brother..." Rollo answered with a laugh as he walked away.

"Come, I will escort you to your quarters," Ragnar ordered, abruptly standing up, pushing his chair back with much more force than necessary and causing it to topple over backwards, his irritation with his brother getting the better of him.

She again obeyed his orders and followed him out of the hall.

"Well here you are, goodnight," he said before turning and walking away, never looking at her.

She watched him until he had disappeared into his own quarters. She was now left with many more questions than she had answers to. She did not dare to follow after him. She retreated to her space, deciding to ready herself for sleep. It was late and the children would be looking for her early the next morning.