The Visitation
It wasn't that uncommon that a visitor passed through Ragnar's village.
It was, however, uncommon that they got visitors so late in the winter, since everyone was too busy trying to survive the harsh temperatures. So, it was very much a surprise when, after a long day in the freezing cold trying to get some milk from their cows, there was a knock at the door. It was barely heard over the howling wind that blew outside, and for that reason, everyone stayed still, unsure if they actually heard a knock.
It was only when there was another series of knocks, this time much more forceful, did Lagertha stand and get the door.
Almost as soon as the door opened it up, the wind almost blew her back deeper into the house. There stood a young maiden, one who looked to be barely into her womanhood, in a tattered cloak that was pulled tight against her body and large brimmed hat. Her yellow hair almost shone in the darkness while it was blowing in the snowy wind and her frozen hands clutched a walking stick carved with runes. Her dark brown glanced up and Lagertha was shocked to see such contrast between the eyes and the paleness of the skin.
Though she suspected that was because of the snowstorm.
"Greetings. I wish to seek shelter from the storm." The young woman proclaimed over the wind.
"Come in." Lagertha ushered the woman into the home, as per the law. The woman ducked her head in thanks and entered the home. Everyone, save the Priest, stood to welcome the stranger. Ragnar stepped in front of the group, subtly yanking Athelstan to his feet, before greeting the woman at the door. Her hat was removed, revealing the thickness of her yellow hair, almost like strands of pure gold that was braided over her shoulder. She removed her cloak next, revealing her shimmering silver armor and large broadsword that looked too heavy for her to wield. When the sword was removed and placed next to the firepit, the stranger then removed the massive shield that was strapped to her back. As she propped it up against the fireplace, Ragnar caught a glimpse of the symbol on the front: two wolves facing outward with the Valknut in the middle.
"Please, have a seat." Ragnar gestured to the only empty chair.
The woman smiled, and nodded. "Why, thank you."
As soon as she was sat, Lagertha brought a bowl of stew and a piece of freshly cooked bread for the stranger. She smiled up at the older woman, thanking her as she took the bowl. The strange woman started to eat the food slowly, the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire.
"If you don't mind me asking," the Priest's voice was soft, hesitant. Ragnar shot him a look, hoping that the slave would get the message that he was sending, Don't ask, Priest. But he apparently didn't see it as he continued, "where are you headed in weather such as this?"
The woman stopped eating, the spoon halfway to her mouth. She looked up, almost coyly, a glint of lust towards the Angle-man. Athelstan looked rather uncomfortable, which was rather on par with the Priest of the Single God. When the woman was done tormenting the poor man, her coy smile turned into a genuine one, her eyes full of mirth and merriment.
"I travel at the request of my Earl." The woman said in a silky-smooth voice that was very pleasant to listen to.
"You're Earl sent you here by yourself?"
The girl's eyes flickered quickly over to the broadsword and the shield, resting against the wall. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
Ragnar smirked at the sight of Athelstan turning red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish plucked from water.
"P-please forgive me-"
The woman held up her hand, though it wasn't in a way that seemed authoritative or forceful. Instead, it was soft and kind, and in a way forgiving. Almost like she didn't want the young Priest to embarrass himself.
"It is fine. Though my mission should remain unspoken of, for it is of great safety of the one I seek." For some reason, her eyes went to Ragnar, who had moved to skulking in the shadows. They connected for a brief moment before returning to the stew in front of her. As she took another bite, she smiled up at Lagertha, a smile that seemed to calm the raging winds outside. "This stew is really delicious. Thank you."
Lagertha smiled as she nodded at the woman's complement. The rest of the dinner wen by in a very relaxing way, as the girl and the adults swapped stories. Ragnar was surprised that one so young could have so many interesting stories. Deep down, though, he figured that the young maiden was embellishing or making up stories about being the descendant of a minor goddess who had aided the gods and goddesses in chaining Fenrir to the base of Yggdrasil. The children, and Athelstan, listened enraptured as the woman described in a more vivid picture than the stories that Ragnar and Lagertha had ever told of the giant wolf and how his maw snapped and foamed with saliva as the gods and dwarves wrapped around the charmed chains that would hold until Ragnarök.
When the tales had winded down and the young children were looking like they were dozing off, Lagertha ushered everyone off to bed. Athelstan assisted Lagethera, carrying a Gyda off to bed while Bjorn walked back to their shared room half-asleep. Ragnar and the young maiden remained, the young woman holding the now-empty bowl in her hand awkwardly. Ragnar noticed and gently plucked it out of the girl's hands and placed it off to the side for it to be cleaned later.
"There are some furs in the corner over there." Ragnar nodded over to the pile of furs that were piled in the corner. "You can pull them as close to the fire as you wish. Have a good night."
He walked off without another thought except maybe enjoying his wife's body. However, when he arrived in the room, the bed was empty. Confused, he checked the other rooms, wondering if she and Athelstan were still putting the children to bed, only to find the rest of the house empty.
Strange…
"Lagertha? Gyda? Bjorn, Athelstan?"
No one answered him.
"Don't worry, Ragnar Lothbrok." The maiden said as she appeared around the corner. Ragnar only jumped a little bit. "Your family members are safe. This is something that I must speak with you in private."
Ragnar drew his blade, pointing the edge at the woman's throat. Frustratingly, she didn't even look afraid. "What have you done with them, hm? Are you some sort of sorceress?"
"Not in the sense that you are thinking of." She said, gently moving the blade out of the way with two of her fingers. Ragnar blinked in shock when he realized that she was wearing different clothes than the ones that she came in.
This time, she wore a grey tunic underneath silver armor breastplate, with furred boots that had loose-fitting trousers tucked into them. Silver gauntlets were clapped over her wrists, while the large broadsword she was carrying was strapped to her belt and her large shield was slung over her shoulder. Her now-silvery blonde hair was draped over her shoulder, with small, intricate braids twisted here and there. A silver circlet was placed cozily on her head, sparkling against the contrast gold blonde hair.
It all clicked suddenly with Ragnar as to the identity of the woman.
"You're a Valkyrie…..."
"Yes. And you are Ragnar Lothbrok."
The sword dropped from Ragnar's hand, fear coursing through him as the reality of the Valkyrie being here, which only meant one thing,
"You're not dead, by the way," the Valkyrie said off handedly, as though reading his thoughts.
Ragnar breathed as sigh of relief, but he didn't relax. "Why are you here then?"
"I bring you a message from Odin himself." The woman said. "He is pleased with you, Ragnar, as you have expanded the reach of the Gods and Goddesses of Valhalla to distant countries. They all whisper his name, and he dwells in their mind. Many of the warriors dining with the All-Father have spoken of your greatness and prowess in battle. He has sent me here to bless your family."
Ragnar beamed, overjoyed at the news. His mind went back to the promise the Seer in Kattegat had made, that would his family would be blessed with many sons.
His mood darkened however, when he heard the words, "Except for the Christian Priest."
"Why not Athelstan?"
"He still worships the English God, who, by the way, is a real stick-in-the-ass."
Ragnar's mind went back to when Earl Harrelson had attacked his family while he had been hunting. His family had been in danger, and even though he was a slave in the eyes of the law, Athelstan had done what he could do to protect Gyda and Bjorn. Ragnar and the rest of the family, except maybe Bjorn but that could just be his way of showing it, saw Athelstan as a member of the family.
"But he has taken to learn our way of life." Ragnar defended. "He has learned the stories of the gods and knows them by heart."
"AH, but there is a difference in knowing something and believing it. Odin has seen the Christian's heart during ceremonies. He still has reluctance, disgust and resignation in his heart. That lessens the power of the sacrifice."
Ragnar sighed. He knew that Athelstan had his reservations about the sacrifices made on ceremony days. But the Priest was slowly opening up to the rituals performed by the Northmen. Athelstan even volunteered for the next ceremony day.
"Tell you what, let's make a little deal." The Valkyrie said. "Your family will be blessed when the Christian Priest renounces the English God. When he does that, your family shall be blessed with fortune and bountiful crops. If Athelstan returns to his ways, misfortune will fall on your family."
Ragnar nodded in agreement.
The Valkyrie smiled, a pure smile that even had Ragnar smiling.
"Good." She walked closer and Ragnar tensed, catching a whiff of heavy incense on her clothes. "Now…wake up."
Ragnar, with a sharp intake, opened his eyes to the early morning light. His wife lay next him, snuggled underneath the multiple furs while the last embers of last nights fire glowed. The large house that was adorned with all the things an Earl and his family could want was eerily quiet, before Ragnar's ears caught the sound of Athelstan waking up to start his early morning chores. The Christian Priest had given himself over to the gods, but only a little bit. Which, coincidentally or not (it depended on who you asked), was when Ragnar Lothbrok became the Earl and his family started to live lavishly.
His mind went back to his dream, the details slowly becoming vague. All that he remembered…
No, he couldn't remember anything now.
He heard shuffling footsteps.
"Ragnar?" Athelstan whispered. "Ragnar? Are you awake?"
The man shifted, blearily blinking up at the Priest. "What is it?"
"I, uh, found a sword. Near the main fireplace."
Ragnar stood, quickly catching the furs as they fell before Athelstan could turn a bright shade of pink. The Northman just raised his eyebrows and walked past Athelstan, towards the main hall. There, like the Christian Priest had said, propped against the main fireplace was the broadsword the Valkyrie in his dream had been carrying. His breath caught in his throat as the entirety of his dream came back to him.
Or was it really a dream?
Did it really happen?
Ragnar shook his head, dismissing the idea as something he dreamt about. He had Earl duties to take care of. He told the Priest not to worry, and ordered him to get ready. The farmer-turned-Earl quickly returned to his room, throwing off the furs and turning to grab a tunic and a pair of trousers. He dressed quickly and made his way to the Great Hall with his wife, while his children happily left to go and explore. Athelstan followed Lagertha and Ragnar dutifully, a few steps behind the two as they entered. People were already gathered, some with grievances, others just there to pay their respect. Ragnar and Lagertha took their seats on the furred thrones, taking some time to get comfortable before waving the first person forward.
Ragnar felt his breath catch in his throat.
The young Valkyrie, looking the same as she did in the dream even right down to the braids, was the first to step forward. Her dark eyes glittered mysteriously as she stopped in front of the two. She bowed low.
"Earl Ragnar, Lady Lagertha." The young Valkyrie said, in a voice as smooth as honey. "It's a pleasure to be your presence."
My older brother wrote this one and sent it to me. I tweaked it a little bit, and with his permission have published it. Hope you like it :)