4

*For this chapter, note quotes in italic from Ragnar's POV are meant to be spoken in his language. Regular text in quotes is English.

RAGNAR

Ushering Mia into the Seer's hut, he took a seat next to her. "What do you seek, King Ragnar?" the Seer asked.

"This woman, she claims to be from a different time - a time in the future. What do you know of this?"

"Mia?" Ragnar's eyes snapped to hers as the Seer said her name aloud.

"Yes?" she hesitantly asked. Ragnar could tell she was nervous around the Seer.

"What do you know of her?" he repeated once more.

"I know she is here for a reason. A reason that only the gods will know."

"Is she to stay or is she to return to her time?"

"If the gods send her here to you, do you think they intend for you to reject their gift?" The Seer's words radiated through his mind. He implied that Mia was in fact a gift to him from the gods.

"What is he saying? What are you saying?" Mia pressed, looking to him for answers.

"He says the gods sent you."

"Well does he know how I can get home?" she questioned, seemingly ignoring his previous response. He held his hand up to slice her, and she reluctantly obeyed.

"You are to complete a great deal in your life, and she is necessary for you to do so," the Seer added. Ragnar's eyes widened and he looked to Mia's questioning glance once more. "She is meant to be here King Ragnar. If not, she would not have been sent. That is all I can say." Ragnar sighed and looked to Mia's anxious expression.

"Come," he instructed her and they exited the Seer's home.

"Ragnar, what's going on? What did he say?"

"I told you he said the gods sent you," he answered her as he took her arm to lead her back to the great hall.

"Yeah, you said that. What about me leaving?" He opened the door and guided her inside.

"He said you are not to leave. You were sent here to stay here," he gently explained, and prayed that she would quietly accept his words. He noticed the great hall had filled with people, many of whom were looking at their entrance.

"What? You can't be serious! He is lying!" she shouted. He stopped walking, gritted his teeth, and craned his neck like he tended to do when flustered.

"These are words not meant for others to hear," he attempted to calmly explain. The others' chatter quieted down and their attention was focused on the two standing towards the front of the room.

"You—" her words were cut off as he turned around and grabbed her by her upper arm. Without a word, he harshly dragged her to his back living quarters away from the audience. Once out of sight, the crowd resumed their previous discussions, eating, and drinking.

"You do not speak to me this way. Especially in front of my people. Do you understand?" his voice was low and threatening. He saw the fear return to her eyes, but did not back down. It was back and forth with her. One minute she was timid and scared, the next she was standing up to him as if he were a mere child.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Sit," he gestured to the table. She complied, albeit reluctantly. "I can see this is not the answer you wished to hear," she rolled her eyes at his words. "But this is the way it is. If the gods sent you here, I will not reject their gift." He paced in front of her as he spoke. Calculating. Determined.

"I'm not some gift you can just keep as your prisoner. Are you crazy?"

"Perhaps," he rolled his eyes at the question of his sanity. "Either way, you will stay here. The gods wish it so." His icy stare dared her to argue, knowing that he had the ultimate control.

"Listen, thank you for letting me stay and giving me food and shelter. But this isn't exactly what I pictured my life to be, what am I going to do here? Where will I live? I don't even know how to process this!"

"You ask too many questions," he sighed and moved to poke at the fire's embers that still burned. "You will live here, with me," he casually commented.

"Why? Can't I have my own house, or shack, whatever? I don't know how to speak your language, I don't know anything about you or your people. How am I supposed to live out my life in a time I don't belong?" He saw her frustration start to turn in to sadness. It was not unreasonable for her to be sad, she was torn from her life and all that was familiar to her.

"The gods have a reason for what they do. It will be okay," he tried to assure her and took a step closer to her. "You will live here where it is safe. We will teach you our language so you can communicate with others. Those are easy problems to fix."

"Why would I be not safe in my own house?" she was not looking forward to sleeping on a pile of furs in the corner of his bedroom for the foreseeable future.

"Things are clearly different here than where you are from. A woman does not typically live alone, unless widowed. You are not widowed, are you?" he pointedly stared at her.

"What? No. I'm not widowed. I was never married. I was too busy for that."

"You have no parents here to live with, so therefore you will stay here. By yourself who would protect you? How will you eat? I do not see you going out to hunt on your own, no?" She played with the fabric of her clothing, and avoided his gaze. "I promise, I am not that awful to live with," he tried to joke.

She let a small smile grace her face as she shook her head. "I'm sure you're pleasant to live with Ragnar," she started to explain, but he interrupted her with a scoff.

"Pleasant may be a little generous," he teased, and she laughed.

"I just don't know anything about Kattegat. I don't know how to act in front of others. I'm sure you are being nice to me only because you know I am not from this time."

"That is not the case. Enough worry. Let us take a walk. We can discuss your life here and details afterwards." He offered his hand to her, which she accepted. "Come."

MIA

Ragnar escorted Mia out to the great hall. Before leaving the longhouse, he turned to grab some heavy furs. He donned a black fur cloak, and in turn held out a lighter colored cloak to her. She grabbed it, staring at the warm furs. Holding it up to inspect it, she couldn't figure out how or where to fasten it. Noticing her predicament, he shook his head and muttered something in his language before placing the furs over her shoulders and fastening it for her. "Thanks," she whispered and followed him outside.

The frost winter air bit at her face as they made their first few steps into the town. The furs helped immensely, but she still wished she had a hat or gloves. "Where are we going?" He placed his hand on her back and guided her down a path towards the shoreline.

"To the docks. Remember, you are a visitor. We will have to think of a more solid story for you when you are able to speak our language. I am sure the women will pester to get to know you." He led her to the docks and she saw how truly beautiful it was at Kattegat. They walked up the shoreline, and Ragnar told her of their yearly raids. He explained how Floki built the boats and how great he was at it. To her surprise, he was able to tell her a great deal about how they farmed their land and where their food sources came from.

"How do you know so much about farming?" she questioned. To her, it was odd that the king of all people would know so much about crops and how to harvest them.

"I was once a farmer," he smiled at her, but the smile quickly vanished.

"Really?" He just nodded in response. She got the feeling it was not a subject he wanted to talk about, so she dropped it.

An awkward silence filled the air, and they walked for a few minutes longer before the sound of footsteps filled their ears. Ragnar stopped and turned to face his son running towards them. "Björn," he greeted and spoke in their native language. They exchanged a few rushed words before Ragnar sent his son running back the way he came. "Come," he spoke in English. His gaze was serious, and his piercing eyes reminded her of a storm brewing.

"What's wrong?"

"We have approaching visitors. Unexpected visitors," he answered as he started back towards town.

"Aren't I an unexpected visitor?"

"You wish no harm to Kattegat. I do not know who these people are, or if they wish to attack us," he rushed out, and she swiftly followed after him. Keeping up with his pace was challenging, especially since he was determined. Out of breath, she did her best to keep up. Once they finally reached the longhouse, there was already a group of men and women in the great hall. They were scattered around the large fire, and Mia noticed their on-edge expressions. While she couldn't understand what they were saying, the rushed words and shouting indicated that they were just as concerned as Ragnar.

His voice boomed above all others, and the people's attention was quickly focused on him. Taking his place at his throne, he started speaking to them in a calmer voice. He was likely talking of their new visitors and what they were going to do about them. During the heated discussion, she wasn't sure what to do. Standing off to the side, she tried her best to stay invisible and out of the way. Startling her, a horn of ale was pushed against one of her hands. Turning to see who brought her something to drink, she saw Björn. Offering him her best smile, she received a quick nod in return. He didn't linger, and quickly left to sit on the steps by his father. Even though a small gesture, it was still appreciated.

Not long after she finished the horn of ale that Björn had given her, she had another nudge from her side. Siggy was standing to her right. She placed a hand on Mia's back and started to guide her back to Ragnar's living quarters. Mia greatly accepted the distraction, having been completely lost in what they were discussing the great hall. Yes, she was concerned about the unexpected visitors but there wasn't much she could do about it. She didn't know the details about their arrival either, because she was given such limited information from Ragnar.

Siggy tended to the fire in the living quarters, and Mia took a seat at the table. They were silent, save for the occasional crackling from the fire. Siggy turned and held her hands up at Mia, indicating for her to stay put. The Viking woman then roamed around the room until she found a trunk near Ragnar's bed. Tilting her head, Mia was unsure what the woman was doing. She saw as the trunks contents were rifled through. Pulling out a light-colored tunic top, Siggy set it on the bed. Mia assumed it was meant to be pajamas for her, but it was still early in the evening. Siggy held her hands up again as a sign to stay put, and disappeared for a few minutes. Upon her return, Mia saw a tray with food. As if on cue, her stomach growled at the smell of fresh nourishment. Siggy giggled and sat next to her.

They both ate in silence at first, until Siggy picked up a piece of what Mia identified as chicken. "Hœnsa," she said in her language. Mia's eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Picking up a similar piece of chicken, she repeated in a heavy accent, "Hœnsa." Siggy chuckled with an encouraging smile. She learned a few different words that evening, mainly just objects in the room. The pronunciations were extremely challenging for her at first, but she started to improve with a few of the words.

After their meal and word game, Mia realized she was very tired. Her stay out in the woods had left her body weak. She was still recovering, and had a slight feeling of jet lag. Letting out a yawn, it seemed Siggy understood that she was tired. She was ushered to the bed where the previous nightclothes had been placed. Siggy held out the long shirt to her, and grabbed at Mia's dress. She had been grateful that someone had given her a dress, even though she had been unconscious, but was ready to change. She did not want to sleep another night in it.

Siggy helped her out of the dress, and into the nightclothes. The shirt went down to her knees, and the arms were a little long, but it was much more comfortable than the dress. Squeezing the Viking woman's hand in thanks, Mia made her way to the pile of furs in the corner. Siggy started saying things to her, and pulled her back. The blankets and furs of the bed were pulled back, and she was ushered to one side of the large bed. "Oh, Siggy I can sleep down there, that's fine. This is Ragnar's bed, he will need to sleep in it." Of course, she knew Siggy couldn't understand her, but she tried to explain out of habit. She received insisting words back from the other woman, who practically pushed her into Ragnar's bed. From the sounds of everyone in the great hall, she figured he would probably be busy for at least a while. Nodding in acceptance, she decided she would sleep in the bed until he returned. Then, she would let him have his bed and could take her place on the floor in the corner.

Siggy smiled once Mia was in bed, and she even went as far to help tuck her in. Mia was truly grateful for her kindness, and hoped that once she could speak her language that they would become friends. As she was left alone, she snuggled into the furs. It was quite comfortable, and everything felt so soft. Curling up on her side, she was able to easily fall asleep.

The next morning, she woke feeling very rested. Blearily opening her eyes, she took in her surroundings. Recognition flitted across her face as she saw she was in Ragnar's home. Her eyes grew wide however, when she remembered she was in his bed. Abruptly sitting up, she looked to her left and saw his sleeping form next to her. He was lying on his stomach, with one hand hanging over the bed. She mouthed the words 'oh my god' and studied him to see if he was still asleep. "Is it custom in your world to stare at people when they sleep?" his sarcastic voice, rough with sleep, sounded throughout the room. Her face instantly turned red, but she huffed out a breath of frustration.

"I'm so sorry," she quickly spat out.

"What are you sorry for?" He kept his head turned away, but lifted his arm to readjust the blankets over him.

"I did not mean to sleep in your bed. Siggy—"

"Do not be sorry. I know now that you are not going to kill me in my sleep, hopefully, so I do not think you need to sleep on the floor like some child. Unless you want to sleep on the floor?" She didn't answer, and was considering his words.

"Well, I'm sorry. I meant to get up and return to the floor, but apparently I slept right through your return last night."

"The only thing you should be sorry for is taking all the furs. You are greedy with blankets," he said with a growl. "And I have only been back here for a few hours. I was up late into the night."

"I'll leave you to rest then," she said and got up from the bed. She reached for the dress she'd worn the day before, and looked back to him in bed. His head remained turned to the side, and he grumbled in response.

"You can leave my shirt on the bed," his rough voice commented as she was changing. Her mouth gaped open as she stared at him in shock. Siggy had given her his shirt to wear to bed. Entirely embarrassed, she stood with her mouth gaping open like a fish. Hearing her movements cease, he chuckled and turned to face her. "You made yourself quite at home it seems," he teased and laughed at her embarrassed expression. Huffing in annoyance, she stormed out of the room and went to find Siggy.