As her homeland became lost in the smoke bellowing from its charred ruins, her tear-stricken cheeks began to dry. Her weary auburn eyes, shifted from the hellish horizon to those responsible for it. Men as tall as redwood trees stood aboard the vessel, they had the girth of lions, with flowing manes to match. All save for one, her captor Floki whose hair was cut short like a young boy. His gangly form which towered over her by 8 inches, continuously prowled beside her, his watchful gaze on the shorter, more muscular Rollo hunched by the stern of the ship.

No more than three of her kinfolk sat on either side of her, bound to the mast as she was – two women who were praying deliriously, and an unconscious male, who'd suffered a horrendous blow to the head. She suspected he was near death, and for that she envied him. The women had been raped, she could hear it in their voices, glimpse the ruin in their eyes. Her gaze darted from Floki to Rollo, knowing she should be grateful she hadn't suffered that indignity. Even so, she languished for her slain tribe, most of all for her brother.

She had been in the forest when the blood-curdling screams had beckoned her; most belonged to her kinfolk, others to the barbarians laying waste to them. She'd fumbled and fled to her brother's forge, but when she had arrived, she found herself alone. Her hands had barely grasped a sword, when she was confronted by Floki. Her eyes locked with his, and he smiled tenderheartedly with a battleaxe in his hand. A duel had ensued, though it was clear to her that Floki was holding back, merely amused by her effort. Eventually his battleaxe shattered her sword, she had gaped and he had smirked. Then she had lunged forward with the hilt of her sword, hoping to stab him with what remained of the steel. Floki had caught her wrist inches from his chest, and tugged her nearer, embracing her mouth with his. She had pushed away from him with all her strength, he had barely swayed as she staggered backwards.

During their entire tussle, Floki's smile had never once left his face, but it faded the moment Rollo made his presence known.

"Fiery little wisp." Rollo mused as Floki squared off against him. "Reminds me that of a shield maiden..." His dark eyes combed down her lustrous red hair that fell past her shoulders. She had fought as quickly as Floki and twice as hard, yet her inexperience showed in her heavy breathing once the fight had ended.

"She's mine." Floki stated, with a hard edge to his words.

"You have not claimed her." Rollo pointed out.

"I've no need. If Ragnar does not grant her to me, he will surely take her for himself." Floki replied gladly.

"If he does not and you have not mounted her...then she will be mine to claim." Rollo warned.

Had she not been so stunned to discover she understood their language, perhaps she would've run. Had she ran, perhaps she'd have found her brother, perhaps Floki would've caught her or perhaps Rollo would've 'claimed' her. Such inklings made little difference now. She shut her eyes a moment, and when she opened them, she stopped dwelling on the past.

Presently, a man with moderate girth, green eyes, and cropped hair with a ponytail was swaggering toward her. From the way the other men made room for him, she deduced he was their leader, Ragnar. Floki stopped pacing, as Ragnar hunched down in front of her. "What is your name?" he asked her. She merely blinked in response. "I know you understand me...I trust Floki hasn't cut out your tongue...tell me your name..." Ragnar persisted.

Her throat was dry and her will was strong, even so she felt compelled to respond. "You've already taken everything...must you take my name too?"

"You are breathing are you not? Than I have not taken everything." Ragnar argued lightly. His eyes shined, and a smirk outlined his lips. "You may keep your name. We will provide you with another." Ragnar turned slightly to glance at Floki. "Have you thought of one?" he asked curiously.

"...Agi..." Floki said, after a moment.

"Agi." Ragnar repeated, the word lulling off his tongue. "It will do." he decided, with a nod of approval. "Tell me Agi, why did you run to the forge? Most women flee or hide...not you." Agi, as she was now called, debated answering since she was fearful she may begin crying if she did. "You fought valiantly so I hear. Are you a shield maiden?" Ragnar pressed. Agi shook her head and the gleam to Ragnar's eyes intensified. "Than what are you?" he asked.

"...The sister of the blacksmith." Agi answered begrudgingly.

"You helped him with his wares?" Ragnar questioned. Agi stared long and hard at Ragnar, and he back at her. "You're done speaking? Hm. It does not matter. You are good with your hands Agi. Floki crafts our ships. I think you are a good match." he declared, straightening up to address Floki. "I will grant you your slave, so long as we agree that she produces children with my priest before her body withers." Ragnar declared, with a sly sideways look at Floki. Floki did not seemed pleased by this condition, but he nodded. Agi was relatively young after all. Gazing down at Agi again, Ragnar smirked, and bowed his head goodbye as he walked away. Agi noticed the relief gleaming on Floki's face as he sneered haughtily at Rollo.


As darkness fell, Agi's back ached from being crammed against the mast. She twisted against her binds, in an effort to warm herself from the torrent winds. Every so often her frail body would shift to heed the lulling call of slumber, but her constant shuddering prevented her from falling asleep. It was then that Floki appeared, shrugging out of his furs to drape them over her. His kind action amazed her, and Floki laughed at Agi's gawk. Throughout the night, the harsh waves caused the furs to slump free of Agi's shoulders. Each and every time, Floki reached out, with the nimblest of smiles and righted the furs. Agi did not sleep, nor did Floki. They spent the night staring at each other in wonder, until finally Floki touched her face and the warmth of human contact prevented Agi from shying away.