Author's note: Idea is not mine, conception, theme, and groundwork by friend. Inspired by Vinland Saga.

Viking Saga

By KindredWriter

Synopsis: It's Ragna's sixteenth birthday and his father finally agreed to have him aboard his ship Har Holmrygr for his first ever raid. Things, however, do not go according to script as the young laddie finds himself stranded alone in unknown territory.

Characters (so far): Ragna, Kokonoe, Jubei, Nine.

Pairing: RagnaXKokonoe

Rating: T (Might change to M)

Men ploded into the waters of the Iceland shore, tossed their gear onto the head Viking longship dubbed Har Holmrygr and its fleet of nine ships in preparation for the planned raid. Har Holmrygr was constructed of strong oak and carved upward at the stern and bow its arch towered twice over the tallest man, towering over the side fleet. Each ship could hold over one hundred men, easily, but with a harsh winter ahead, they couldn't risk taking more food than required so would make do with what they had and lowered the men to forty on the side ships and sixty on the main.

Watching his fellow clansmen work, psyched for his first ever raid, Ragna knew no other child would be happier than he was right now.

His father Hróðvitnir oversaw the gathering of materials, shouting what needed to go where and who, sparing his excited son a smile, one the boy shot back. He had a bushy beard tied at the tip, a nose a little crooked from a man who managed to land a good hit on him (though didn't live long too regret it, he heard), a scar on his face from a childhood scrap and silver hair coming from his helm. A gene said to come from his norse origin, Fenrir, but the story told sounded too far fetched for even he to believe. Ragna thought it was cool though.

Norse mythological heritage aside, his strength on the battlefield, which earned him the respect, fear, and loyalty of his men, could have surely been granted by the gods themselves. Nearly seven feet and by far the strongest in his village, deemed its head by his feats alone, his overwhelming power and skill was something to behold. Ragna dreamed to see it himself. Ever since Ragna saw his father come back with a massive haul of goods, the only thing he could think about was becoming a viking to help.

Ragna settled himself on the strong oak of Har Holmrygr, groaning at the conversation around him. Then, one viking smirked at him, "Ready lad? Daddy won't be there ta save ya once we've started, y'know?"

"Shuddup. I don't need savin'." A roar of laughter erupted among those who heard Ragna's declaration. He glared at the man in front of him. "I dunno why you're laughin'. Wasn't it your kid I made cry during practice? Like father like son, don't they say?"

He stopped laughing and a crowd of "oohs" followed. Before the now peeved warrior could launch his own verbal assault, Hróðvitnir arrived and smacked Ragna on the back of his head. "Enough."

"What the hell!? They started it!"

Hróðvitnir sighed. "You can finish once we've finished."

Ragna pouted. "Fine…"

Chatter filled the fleet as the warriors prepared themselves mentally for the trip ahead. Family came aboard to wish their husbands goodbye, the children shooting Ragna jealous glares that he, before any of them, got to experience a viking raid first hand. Heh. Definitely something to brag about once he got back home with pounds of food for winter.

Done with his mental checklist and warriors and supplies all accounted for, Hróðvitnir took his position at the stern of the commanding ship, a hand up high to signal their departure. The vikings gripped their oars tight, ready to move on his command, rowed out in near perfect synchronicity once Hróðvitnir hand came down. Ragna watched his clansmen's strokes as the sounds of his villagers cheers soon stopped reaching his ear, drowned out by the wooden creaks and rippling waves of the frigid North Sea. Ragna's chest swelled with pride; he was no longer a child waving among the crowd, forced to wait for his father to return, but on the ship with the warriors of his clans- a true viking himself -ready to feast on what the world had to offer.

So bad did he want to row along with the others. He was strong, Ragna knew he could handle it despite his father's constant rejections. Perhaps he didn't want him to screw things up. This was the real deal, after all. And how the other's sweat soaked their tunics, warriors who have been doing this far longer than he had, it sounded like a good idea for him to hold off for a little while.

"Enough! Stop rowing!" Hróðvitnir shouted as, one by one, the other ships stopped with remarkable precision, then stuck their shields on the side facing outward. Then, after giving charge of the rudder to his second in command, his sworn brother, Birgir, gave Ragna the command which alighted a smile on his face. "Set ye sail."

That he did. The massive sail was about as tall as the ship was long, made of woven multi-colored cloth. Ragna had accompanied his father on a few fishing trips, studying how the sail was set and getting it down-pat. Though, beyond the sail which separated him for his father, Hróðvitnir chuckled at his inexperienced son's troubles. Once Ragna finished the sail and sat back to watch the rising waves, gasping at a few sea creatures, he realized all the men on the boat had a given job to do and never sat still. Curious, he asked Birger, "What's my job."

"Listen, learn, observe. Once ya can put up a sail properly, you'll get your fair share." Birgir had dark brown eyes to his father's heterochromia, which the storyteller of their village claims are the eyes of Hati and Skoll. Though, for the duration of the ride, Birgir did most of the heavy lifting while everyone else did sporadic check-ups on the bow and stern. Once the waves calmed and Ragna could move freely on the ship, he made his way over to his father who stood at the helm, eyes forward and arms folded.

"How long till we reach?"

"Easy, son. We still have aplenty ways to go." He smiled at his son and ruffled his hair. "I dreamed of takin' ya on my ship, y'know? For years ye begged, and now, how d'you feel?"

Ragna stifled his excitement. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of all the men and responded as calmly as he could. "Amazing. Just wish you took me out early."

"Would I wish I could, but couldn't. I made a promise to ye aunt t'make sure ye were safe. And now…" Hróðvitnir took a deep breath. "If ye have any questions for me, ask away. I will answer."

Ragna's jaw dropped. "Really? No more-"

"No more. Ye deserve to know everything. About yer mother." Ragna gulped and nodded, ready. "In yer second year she caught flu. By the time I return she knew death would take her, but before I left, she had me promise to never take ya out to sea."

Ragna gaped. "Why?"

"Your protection. The sea is dangerous lad. Creatures of all kind prowl these unsuspecting waters."

"They say once you fall in, you can never come back."

Hróðvitnir nodded. "The sea is perilous. Anything can happen out here. Some of the storytellers tales aren't talltales, y'know. Some are real. Men get lost out in sea never to return, attacked by mysterious creatures. If ye aunt ever found out I brought ya with me, she'd skin me. Give another reason to. She never did like me much."

"How come?"

"I wasn't there to comfort my wife in her passing. You were...supposed to have a brother."

"Oh." Ragna didn't know how to respond. His heart dropped to his stomach. "A brother…"

"Your aunt could never look me in the eyes again, which is why she took ya till ye voice got a little deeper. Treated ye good though, yeah?"

"Yes. But, tell me more about my mother. What was she like?"

Hróðvitnir closed his eyes and smiled at the memory. "Beautiful, feisty. Think ye get that from her. It was a magnificent battle and the Danes put up one hell of a fight. Can never forget the man who broke me nose. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her, Helka. Thought she would bring reinforcements, so I chased her."

"The woman you chased was my mother? And...she was a Dane?"

"Yes. Dane to the very marrow." Hróðvitnir pulled up his sleeves to reveal fading bite marks. "Tackled her and she bit me so hard blood drew. Shocked me and she freed herself, but I tackled her again. So scared she thought I tried to force her."

Ragna almost didn't want to ask. "Did you?"

"Never. My mother had me take a pledge and if I break it may the gods have mercy on me. But growing up, unidentical to the man I called father, I think she might have been. Wouldn't disbelieve it. He was crude and viscous. But before I set sail for sea, I killed the bastard. Upset me mother some but she forgave me, and even admitted to the joy upon his death, once I brought silver and goods from the far continent. He deserved it after what he did to her."

"What'd he do?"

He shrugged. "Anything. A captive forced has little freedom. She be starved if she did not marry the man, more so if she conceived. Be dead in days. For men, pleasure take but a wee minute. For the lass, be misery till death." A moment of pause, and he hoped Ragna understood his meaning. "That's why, here and now, I want you t'make the same pledge I did when I was still a fledgling. Do not force a woman." Ragna nodded and he continued. "Back to yer mother," his smile returned, "I made her promise not to hurt me or try to run, then let her up. It was then I realized her beauty and her chains."

"She was a slave?"

"Yes. I broke her chains and scooped her up in my arms. I still remember the shock on her face once her arms and legs were freed. But when she realized where I was taking her, she said, 'I'm going nowhere without my sister.' I only meant to take her and convince her to come with me, but she'd only do so unless I bring her sister, too."

Ragna chuckled. "Is that why aunty hates you so much?"

"Yes. Helka told me she was supposed to marry a bastard of a man. Yer aunty always believed they were in love. Helka said if I wanted her, had to save her sister first. And even though she loves her husband to death yer aunt is too stubborn to see the life she was going to live as a miserable mistress." Hróðvitnir placed a caring hand on his son's shoulder. "You must be stronger and wiser and know what's best for those ye care about even if they disagree with ye. And you will learn. I will teach ye."