Master of My Sea


Hello!

So, first things first. I really hope everyone is doing well during this strange, and uncertain time. I'm still working at the moment, because I work at an essential business (a pharmacy), and deal with people on a daily. I really hope you all are keeping safe and only going out to public places for essential needs, such as food and medication. If anyone has questions about the pandemic, or wants to talk, feel free to message me. I'm not a doctor or anyone qualified to give medical advice, but I do know a lot more information regarding safety and worries and misconceptions about shortages (at least in Canada)

It's important to know that every dismal era in history always leads into a great one. This is our transformative time in our lives. We are going to be a part of history, and we are going to change the world for the better. Everyone has a part in this. Everyone is important. There is a reason why we are the most successful species on planet earth, and it's are insanely stubborn ability to adapt to everything the universe throws at us. We've been through worse, during worse times, so we can get through this as long as we are united.

Second's thing second; This chapter is a transition one. It's on the shorter side, and it speeds through a lot of moments. It's a bit more boring than I wished, but it's imperative to know what happens during this time, because in the next chapter is the start of a new story arc for Kara. She will be in her late teens in the next chapter. And it's a very, very long one.

Hope everyone enjoys!


chapter fifteen:
THE CHICKEN GUARDIAN


The winter was harsh and unforgiving. Piles of snow gathered to knee's height, forcing Ragnar and his new ward to keep in doors for as long as possible. The unforgiving blizzards had reduced game in the forest, so food was scarce. To make matters more discomforting, things had not been the same since Hulda had left them. Kára was quiet, short-tempered and slacked on her chores. Ragnar, having more experience with boys, allowed her to stew in her depression. He wasn't thrilled by the situation either, but he had love and obligation.

There were arguments here and there, particularly nights when the storms would snow them in, and keep them in for too long. The less food they came by, the more irritated both Ragnar and Kára became with each other. Eventually, they had no choice but to go to the market place in the city, which was not an easy decision. Neither of them were welcome in Kattegat, but they came to a begrudging conclusion that out of two of them, Kára was the least likely to be recognized. Thankfully, Hulda had left currency when she left, so Kára took just enough to purchase a crate of root vegetables and salted pork loins to last them through winter.

And just when they thought winter would never end, the blizzards became fewer, and the sun finally broke through the cloudy sky and thawed the ice and snow. It was still cold during those sunny days, but now Ragnar was able to clear the garden and repair damages from the storms of that season. Kára had left during the break of dawn in an attempt to find some meat, leaving Ragnar to his own devices and thoughts. By midday he had cleared the garden of snow and turned the soil. He missed this, he realized. The humble chores of a farmer were far more meditative than he recalled. No stress of the responsibilities of anyone else but his own. Ragnar sighed and leaned against the butt of his spade, looking around at the quaint surroundings of what was now his home. It still had Hulda's imprint in it, particularly the door to the house that had the carvings of Freya's cats. Though this home was no longer a witch's home- it was going to be a small farm, and a farm needed livestock.

Ragnar grabbed the woodcutter's axe and began to hunt for suitable trees to cut and make lumber from. By the time Kára returned from her hunt, Ragnar had started to peg the ground with stakes into a perfect rectangle.

"What are you doing?" Kára asked as she went over to tie her hunt on the rack to bleed them out.

"Making a chicken coop," Ragnar responded without looking at her.

"We don't have chickens," she replied flatly, also not looking at him.

"We will," he responded simply, which earned him a glance from the redhead. "Once I am finished, you will go to the nearest farm and buy chickens and a rooster from them. They will provide us with eggs, which we can also sell in the market, and get enough to buy a goat for milk."

Kára sighed and didn't argue, but of course commented on it. "Ragnar Lothbrok, King of Kattegat; chicken farmer."

Ragnar grinned to himself, and said in a small voice, "I would rather be just a chicken farmer."

It took only two days for the chicken coop to be finished. Ragnar gave enough coppers to Kára to buy at least 4 chickens and a rooster, gave her a cart and sent her on her way. He did not expect her to return until evening, as the nearest farm was just a quarter's day walk from where they were. Ragnar spent the day in mild relaxation after finishing the duties in the garden and tanning hare hides. By evening, he was creating a bland turnip and rabbit stew in the cauldron when he heard the sound of wooden wheels on uneven ground, and the familiar coos of chickens. He left the stew to simmer and went outside to see Kára pulling the cart behind her in a huff.

Ragnar stood with his arms crossed in amusement, that is until she rolled in next to him, looking sweaty, red-faced, and miserable. And missing something in the cart.

"Where is the rooster?" He asked.

She sent him a heated glare, "The man refused to sell it to me for what you gave me."

Ragnar sighed, "We need a rooster."

"Hens lay eggs without roosters," she dropped the handles of the cart and went over to the cages.

"We need a rooster to protect them from predators," he followed closely behind her, not helping in any way as she hauled the four cages over to the coop. "You should go back with more coin."

Kára whipped around and deepened her glare at him, "I am not going back. We don't need a rooster; they're annoying anyway. I will take care of the hens."

Ragnar lifted up his hands in predetermined defeat, with a small smirk on the corner of his lips that she didn't catch. "Fine, the hens are your responsibility. Their care is in your hands," he returned his arms across his chest as he watched her stubbornly move the cages. "You are responsible for feeding them, harvesting their eggs, keeping their nest clean, and making sure they are safe."

"Fine," she gave him a sarcastic smile, "I've already bonded with them, and given them names. They are now my children."

Ragnar leaned against the house and quirked an eyebrow in amusement, "Oh?"

"The white one is Birna, the spotted one is Folkvi, the brown one is Gislaug, and the one with feathery legs and feet is called Ragnhilda."

The viking looked at the latter of the four, and then back at her, "Let me guess, she is your least favourite?"

Kára pointedly opened up a cage and escorted the first hen into the coop, "No comment."

The week that followed, Ragnar witnessed the girl stubbornly do as she promised. She gathered the eggs, cleaned their nests and made sure they were fed. When she wasn't tending to their every need, she sat on the roof of the house and watched like a shepherd dog. Ragnar spent those days tending to the garden and cleaning the farming area of mud from the melting snow, and then would fish for the evening's supper.

All seemed well, except during one night, the two were roused awake when they heard distressed sounds coming from the chickens. Kára looked over at the door with tired eyes, and then back at Ragnar questioningly.

"What was that?"

Ragnar rubbed his eyes with the butt of his wrist, "Something's wrong with the chickens. Go check on them."

"Why do I have to?"

"They are your responsibility," he yawned and flopped back into the pillow.

Sighing irritably, Kára rolled out of bed and pulled the furs around her shoulders and slipped on her boots. It was chilly outside, so the absence of a warm cot with sheep's wool and furs was nearly physically painful when she stepped outside.

With a lamp in hand, Kára groggily left the warmth of the house and went over to the chicken coop, where they were all awake and pacing around the enclosure. Kára squinted in the darkness, and bent next entrance and saw brown feathers all over the place. She frowned deeply and checked the chickens and saw that there were only three; Gislaug was missing. The girl stood up and cast light over the carnage and immediately saw small canine footprints in the mud that disappeared into the forest, with little feathers trailing behind.

"Shit."

That morning Ragnar watched in silent amusement as Kára attempted to make fortifications in the coop to prevent foxes and other predators from getting to her three remaining hens. Ragnar made a comment about the rooster helping the situation, but she was having none of it, and would just criticize his bad job at chicken coop building.

Despite the efforts of improving the coop, the fox who had chicken-napped Gislaug was far too cunning, and in three days from then, they were short of another chicken. Folkvi was now in Valhalla. That morning Ragnar had the pleasure of a show to go with his porridge and warm mead. Kára cursed loudly, swearing at the forest as if it would respond, and then swearing to Odin that she would kill that fox and make a hat out of its pelt. That day Kára had made traps around the obvious weak points of the coop, and spent most of the day guarding it from the roof of the hut.

Ragnar let her do her own thing, only passing over bowls of stew and a horn of ale at supper time and when she was thirsty. The only words he spoke that day was to remind her it was getting late, and asked if she was coming in to sleep. Kára grunted a defiant "no" and a small speech about how she will not rest until she catches the animal. Ragnar gave a nod, but said nothing, then went inside with an amused smile.

The last few nights were the same. Kára would eventually concede and go to sleep in the wee hours of the morning and would sleep well into the afternoon, leaving Ragnar in blissful peace as he worked on their small farm. Things seemed to be relatively well, especially now they had eggs and meat to eat. Birna and Ragnhilda became less stressed now they felt less threatened with a teenage centurion guarding them until daybreak.

But peace would end.

That morning Ragnar woke up to a bright new day, and proceeded to do the usual. He looked over at Kára's cot and found it empty, which was unusual given her sleeping schedule as of late. He walked outside with a drink in his hand and looked around at the clearing, and saw nothing but scattered white feathers, all leading towards the coop. He followed the trail and peered into the coop, and, as he suspected, only saw one chicken. Ragnar spun around and saw Kára sleeping soundly on the roof.

He chugged down the rest of his drink and chucked the wooden cup at her, successfully hitting her cheek and waking her up in a start. Kára blinked at the sun peaking through the budding leafs of the trees and then peered over at Ragnar and then at the cup.

"Is it midday already?"

"Birna is dead," Ragnar flatly told her and then waltzed back into the house.

As he sat down and lifted up his feet, he listened to Kára's scrambling down the roof and the pleasantly loud reaction when she saw the carnage around the coop. Ragnar poured himself another cup of ale and sighed.

Just before the sun set that day, Ragnar watched from the window in the house as Kára set up camp inside the coop itself. He shook his head in disbelief, only making a comment about how uncomfortable that would be, knowing she would dismiss his warning and proceed with what she was doing. Kára continued to sleep in the coop with Ragnhilda for 5 nights straight, and all those nights she kept her bow and dagger with her, waiting for the next raid to happen.

X X X

Kára was half asleep, as per usual, in the coop. It was difficult to sleep next to chicken mess right next to her face, and the straw made her body, especially her head, itch. At the very least, Ragnhilda was quiet during the night, only giving off soft coo's, which only served to be comforting reminders to Kára that she was still alive. The girl curled up and sighed, trying to rest her troubled mind with thoughts of her misfortune of the last year and a half. It worked, for a moment, as she felt her mind be pulled into a proper sleep that she hasn't had in a moon's cycle. But suddenly, she was pulled out of sleep by the screeching and aggressive flapping of Ragnhilda.

Kára shot up right away, but didn't rightly react until she processed what she saw. Poor Ragnhilda was struggling and squawking loudly while being in the jaws of the fox. The fox made a brief eye contact with Kára before pulling away into a loose panel and fleeing the scene.

Cursing, the girl scrambled to get up and gather her bow and quiver and tore out of the coop, nearly tripping over the traps she set up. The feathers lead into the woods, where she saw the very tip of the fox's tail disappear into. The moon was large enough to show some light, but as she ran after it, the night was not on her side and she lost sight of him. Kára was determined, though, and she intended to avenge the deaths of her chickens.

So she slowed down and searched for the fox tracks. Once she found them, she followed slowly, trying not to miss them in the darkness. Kára tracked until finally the sun rose, and illuminating the trees as it rose over the horizon, making it easier to see the paw prints in the dirt, as well as stray white feathers stuck in shrubbery.

After a few moments, the silence of the early morning was filled with the soft sounds of the crunching of bones and the shuffling of small pads on dead leaves. Kára crouched down and pulled out her bow and began to creep between the trees as she followed the sounds. It led her to the fox den; a burrow hidden under a large fallen oak tree, with spring moss and grass blossoming on the top. She pulled out an arrow and knocked it back as she crept through the bushes until she was able to get the perfect shot. But once she had the orange fur within her sights, Kára paused, because small bodies bounced around its legs. She lowered her arrow, and watched as the fox stood vigilantly next to the body of Ragnhilda and her kits hopping around her legs and wrestling over their breakfast. The smallest kit, with odd white markings around her eyes, struggled to get to the bird as her siblings blocked her way. The bowstring relaxed in her fingers as she watched the mother sit down with her babies as they feasted. The fox looked about the area with focused vigilance, moving her head to and fro, while her ears flickered back and forth to every sound. The crunch of leaves beneath Kára's foot allerted the animal to her. The fox stared at her in alert, now standing on all fours, moving over to put herself in front of her kits. Kára simply stared back into the animal's amber eyes for what seemed like an eternity, then she returned her arrow back into her quiver.

X X X

Ragnar had woken up that morning completely alone. Just like the past few days, he woke up and prepared breakfast for both he and Kára, who he would bring the food to in the coop. However, that morning, when he walked outside the first thing he noticed was the coop door wide open and inside was completely vacant. His eyes followed the trail of feathers and the imprints of Kára's footsteps in the soft soil following them. Ragnar's gaze stopped at the edge of the forest just in time to see a head of fiery orange hair clashing against a background of green.

With a sigh, he put the bowl of porridge on the workbench and crossed his arms. "Lost your new hat?"

When she avoided his eyes and didn't reply with a snarky reply, Ragnar let his arms drop to his sides. Kára dropped herself on a stool and laid her bow and quiver against the house, then ran her fingers through her hair.

"What happened?" Ragnar brought over the other stool and plopped down next to her.

Kára scratched her head vigorously as she finally made a sound of frustration. "I am so… ugh, I am so useless!" She kicked over a bucket of chicken feed in her grievance.

Taken back by surprise, Ragnar furrowed his brows, "Why do you say this?"

"The fox! She was just feeding her children!" She leaned back and slammed the back of her head against the house. "And I couldn't even take care of 4 dumb birds," she sighed, then reached up again to scratch her head. "Mother left me, and I realize I have no idea how to take care of myself."

"Kára, you have all the necessary skills to survive," Ragnar replied. "You hunt, fish, and are resourceful."

"But I cannot fight. I cannot defend," she replied, digging her nails into the back of her scalp. "I am a woman grown now, and I do not know anything beyond this forest. There is so little of the world I know, or have seen. I was bested by a fox, Ragnar. How will I ever defend myself and my kin from something far stronger?"

"You are still young. You have time to learn all of this,"

Kára rolled her head to look at him, "You were my age when you rescued mother from the tower."

Ragnar gave her a gentle smile and placed his hand on his shoulder, "It is spring, Greenfoot. The season of rebirth. I will teach you what you must learn. I will teach you to be viking."

Kára lifted up her head from the wall and blinked at him, "You will teach me to be viking? Like Bjorn?" She asked as she scratched the side of her head.

He nodded, "But first…" Ragnar reached out and pulled her hand away from her head and then jerked her down so he could see her scalp. "We will deal with the lice first."

"LICE?!"

Moments after Ragnar had found lice in her red mane, Kára was subjected to the most uncomfortable day in her life. Ragnar had cut off her hair until it was so short, that she looked like a boy. Then, he created a type of soap by mixing hearth ash and animal fats, in which he rubbed vigorously into her scalp. He then roughly combed out what remained of her hair, soliciting yells and angry remarks from the teenager. Ragnar was no stranger to lice, as most parents were. Bjorn had lice a few times when he was younger than Kára, and he and Lagertha had dealt with it the same way. Bjorn complained just as much as Kára, too.

Kára was instructed to sit for some time while soap was festering in her hair. Ragnar claimed it would suffocate the lice, but she was convinced it was payback for not listening to him about the rooster. She smelled absolutely horrible. When it was time to wash it off, Kára had never been more eager to throw herself in the river for a bath.

X X X

After the lice had been dealt with, Ragnar set to work on training Kára to be viking. Using wooden sticks, he taught her how to sword fight. Then, how to use an axe, like him. It didn't stop there, of course, as Ragnar would also indulge her in stories of his battles both on homeland and distant lands, most prominently England. With that, she learned creative strategy, eventually.

Training was every day in some form. After chores were done, Ragnar had new lessons, or continued off of old ones until she could perfect what she learned. This had gone on every day for the next year and a half. During the winter months, Ragnar had begun to teach her the language of the saxons after she showed interest in visiting there multiple times. This above all else, was the most difficult, and took longer than anything else. When it came to fighting, Ragnar observed that Kára quickly grasped it as if it was already in her nature to fight. In some moments, Ragnar had forgotten that she was still in training, particularly since he spotted movements in her body that reminded him of the fighting style of someone he once fought against. He noticed that she preferred range in fighting; putting distance between herself and her opponent, and she would use speed to increase the distance and prioritized defence over offense. There was no contest that she was an expert with a bow, but the axe was her weak point. She was better with a short sword, as it allowed her to use her natural dexterous skills. There was no doubt in Ragnar's mind that Kára would be an excellent shield maiden some day. Though that next step is something that was out of his hands, as there were just some lessons a man could not teach a girl.

Ragnar and Kára had become comfortable with their modest life, and things had started to move efficiently between the two. Their small garden was lively with produce, and Kára often came home with some kind of meat for dinner for them to eat. However, their comfortable life couldn't last forever, and Ragnar knew at some point it had to end, he just didn't know when that would be.

The two had spent two winters alone at Hulda's house, and in those two years they had no visitors. Kára would often visit the market place or local farmers and fishermen to purchase or trade with them, but Ragnar had spent those years having no other contact with the outside world. It seemed like Kattegat had forgotten about Hulda, or assumed that the queen outlawed seeking her services. Perhaps assuming no one would come visit the Völva after the fall out with Aslaug was a bad decision, because neither Kára or Ragnar predicted a visitor one late spring day.

"Hello? Are you Hulda the Red?"

Kára was weeding out the garden when she heard the voice, and her body reacted immediately. She whipped up and twisted around to the unfamiliar voice. There was a man there, at least twice her age, standing next to a shorter woman that was much closer to her own age. Kára looked between the two in uncertainty, and then glanced over at Ragnar, who was crouched over the turnips in the garden. He was frozen too, only his eyes glanced up at Kára in a silent panic to disguise his identity.

The two strangers continued even though Kára didn't respond.

"My wife and I are trying to conceive, and we are having difficulty-"

"Hulda no longer lives here," Kára finally spoke. "She had moved on years ago when Queen Aslaug banished her and her daughter from Kattegat."

The two looked at each other in disappointment before the woman turned to look at Kára with a tilt of her head, "Are- are you her daughter? Are you Kára?"

The redhead was surprised by the stranger's knowledge of her name. Even when her mother was more often sought out by the villagers, none of them knew the name of the daughter of the witch. Had her time with the Lothbrok brothers had given her some sort of notoriety? Kára glanced at Ragnar who remained where he was, but this time he was shooting her a warning stare.

She turned back at the strangers and opened her mouth, but it seemed like her reluctance to answer gave the woman confirmation. She stepped away from her husband and towards Kára with desperation, her hands reached out and took the girl's and clasped them into her own.

"You are, aren't you? Please, you must know how to help us. We have been trying to have a child since last summer," Her hands were soft, but they gripped Kára's hard enough that even a tug wasn't going to loosen them.

"Uh," She glanced over to the husband who approached his wife from behind and put a hand on her shoulder. His eyes were pleading.

"I- uh… Midsommar!" Kára spoke finally "Midsommar is approaching. Bathe under the next full moon, and then conceive on Midsommar."

Hope lit up in the woman's eyes as a smile sprung to her lips. In a swift moment, she had let go of Kára's hands only to envelope her into a bone crushing hug. The woman thanked her profusely and kissed her on both her cheeks and then pulled away to dig into her purse.

"Here, this was my father's when he went to England with Ragnar," she took Kára's hand again and placed a silver chain with a cross charm on the end; a ruby planted on the very center.

"No- you do not have to give this to me-"

"I insist," she folded Kára's fingers over the necklace and fell into the arms of her husband, who smiled and nodded in thanks.

"I- uh-"

"We will try what you say, Huldadóttir. If we have a girl, we will name it after you," He bowed his head as he and his wife began to leave the area. His last words were, "Gods bless you and your slave."

If Kára wasn't so dumbfounded by this entire interaction, she might have laughed at that.

Once they were gone, Ragnar stood up from the garden, and watched their silhouettes disappear into the wood.

"Will that work?" He asked, referring to the advice that she had given them.

"I have no idea," Kára sighed and looked down at the chain in her hand. "They knew who I was."

"And the girl's father raided with me," Ragnar's mouth was in a hard line. "After today, more will come, once others learn you helped them. We cannot stay here."

Kára swallowed, feeling her stomach twist in nerves from yet another change in her life. "Where will we go?"

Ragnar didn't answer her right away, even though he knew exactly where they would go. Though the 'they' part was always questioned by him. He was not ready to face his people, or his family after his failures in Paris. They saw him completely broken and hollow on the inside, that even if he returned now, the wound of his abandonment would still be fresh. Despite his recovery with Hulda and Kára, there was still a lot Ragnar had to do for himself, and resuming his farmer lifestyle was just a bandage on a festering wound. He needed to find himself again, and he could not do that with Kára. He couldn't put her through that, especially since she had done so much for him already. He repaid her by training her to what she needed to know, but now she was ready to become what she needed to be. And this old man could not offer her those skills.

There was only one person that could.

"Hedeby," He finally replied.

Kára stared at him for a beat, "We're going to Hedeby? Isn't that Lagertha's earldom?"

"We aren't going," he turned to her and lowered his head so he could look her in the eye. "You are. Our time together is done, Kára."

The feeling of abandonment blossomed in her chest once again, and Kára's old feelings from when her mother left her woken once more. Her brows furrowed in hurt confusion, though she did not feel the same crippling sadness she felt when her mother left. She was much older now, and knew that her life with Ragnar could not last forever, but she was just never fully prepared to be alone.

"But you are not done teaching me to be viking," she argued.

Ragnar ruffled her hair before cupping her cheek in a fatherly way. "You are not meant to be viking," he confessed. "You are too good for that. What you are in your blood is the same as Lagertha, and your aunt, Sigrún. You are shieldmaiden. That is a path I cannot walk with you, unfortunately. Coming with me will only hinder your destiny, Kára. I will take you to Hedeby, but that is where we must part." When Kára didn't argue or say anything, Ragnar gave her a sad smile and pulled her in for a hug. He rested his chin on her head, feeling his eyes sting with salty tears that he tried to control.

"Lagertha is your future, do you understand?" He felt her nod into his chest, along with a dampness that soaked into his tunic.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked as she curled her fingers into his back, desperate not to let him go.

"I do not know," he confessed. "But if we do not meet again in this life, we will see each other again in Valhalla, and there you can tell me tales of your many victories and battles."

Kára inhaled deeply before giving a shaky sigh. Her eyes were tightly closed as she concentrated on his voice and the beat of his heart in her ear. All she could think to herself was how unexpectedly painful this was, and why. When she opened her eyes, she was looking into the forest that surrounded their modest home, and in the dense greenery she could see the contrast of the orange fox in the distance, staring back at her with amber eyes. The unique markings of her face are distinctive with that of the runt of the kits she had seen two years ago. The small kit was now large, with a brilliantly orange and black coat, of that she had never seen before.

"So this is what it feels like to have a father," Kára gently spoke as she watched the fox disappear into the forest. She shut her eyes tightly as she allowed the warmth of Ragnar's body envelope her, allowing her body to collapse in his strong embrace one last time.


Hopefully I'll have chapter 16 out sooner than later. This story arc is proving to be longer and more detailed than I anticipated, but I really enjoy this arc. I introduce new characters that become important to Kara's life, and introduces important canon characters.

I also have an update on the new Ivar story:

I havent gotten any feedback when I asked if anyone was interested. But I started it anyway. So far I like it, but I need to figure out some things before I publish it. It won't be as much of a slow burn as this will be, and it will be outside of the canon.

Another important notice:

I have posted this story on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad, so don't worry, no one is copying my story. My username for Wattpad is Kathinnraudi and on AOO it's CatherineBraganza