So long wait, but not as long as last time. I'm so happy I finished this chapter in time for the season two premiere tonight! I am so excited, but with my luck I'll forget to watch it. :/ I'm bad like that with TV. Anywho, hope you like the next chapter, it's not much but you get to meet my second OC! Enjoy!

PS - thank you all for the wave of favorites and follows this story has gotten. My e-mail has been blowing up all month from all the love. It was a bit intense to be honest.

Blood. Lots and lots of blood. Red painted the sands of a small seaside English kingdom. Lifa had traveled all over and had seen many battles. England waged war just as any other country did, but never had she seen it this brutal. In fact, all this blood and gore reminded her much more of home and her brother Floki. Of Ragnar and Rollo and raids in the east.

Picking her way carefully through the bodies, the blonde woman walked the edge of the sea until she stumbled across exactly what she was looking for. The familiar styled ship was pulled up onto the sand, the sea brushing under it but unable to pull it away. The red sail was pulled up, keeping it from flapping in the wind. The sound of clinking metal came from inside, drawing her closer. She called out wordlessly, in the habit that all warriors did when they were announcing their presence to an ally. Silence fell as a man emerged from the deck and squinted down at her. He looked familiar, but it had been many years since she'd been home or seen one of her own people. She didn't want to insult him by calling him the wrong name.

"Lifa?" the deep voice called incredulously.

"Yes," she called back, dropping her heavy pack from her shoulders. "I didn't realize Earl Haraldson was willing to send raiders to the west."

"Haraldson is dead," he told her bluntly, jumping down into the sand beside her as she racked her brain for his name.

"This is news. Who has replaced him?"

A small smirk graced his features, "Earl Ragnar is now ruling."

"Ragnar?" even the smallest amount of formality fell away at her shock. "Ragnar Lothbrok?"

He chuckled lightly, his small smile revealing one of his front teeth chipped almost all the way to the gum. Now she knew him. She remembered how at thirteen she was still so much smaller than anyone else, still the fragile little bird. She remembered Asgeir, one of the largest boys their age, had decided to tease her for it. After a few weeks of dealing with the harsh words and shoves, Lifa had finally broken down and gone to her brother for help. Floki in turn had gone to Ragnar and Rollo, knowing he wouldn't be able to take on the older boy on his own. Rollo, who had grown quite fond of the young girl, had taken it personally and confronted Asgeir. One thorough beating later, Asgeir had a permanently chipped tooth and Rollo gained a devote follower…until she grew old enough to find her own mind. They had stayed close, as close as she was with Floki and Ragnar, but she had quickly realized Rollo was just as selfish as his brother, though they were both just as protective over their family. It seemed to even out some.

A call similar to the one she'd shouted earlier interrupted them, making them turn towards the castle in the distance. Lifa squinted into the setting sun to see a long line of bulky figures weaving down the shoreline. As they grew nearer she began to recognize certain shapes. The shorter, but muscular one leading the way. The tall massive one half a step behind. The lean one dancing along the line playfully, probably giggling as he teased the others. She shook her head. Some things never changed.

She called back to them and the three heads she'd been drawn to snapped up. She heard her brother's full laugh as he ran up the line to her side, scooping her up into a hug and twirling her around to make her laugh. When he set her down again she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and turned to the others. Most of the men knew her on sight and nodded to her in greeting before loading their hoard onto the boat. Ragnar, who had been leading the raiders along with his brother, however, had stopped a few feet away, an amused smirk on his face.

"Ragnar," she greeted, moving to give him a hug as well. "I hear congratulations are in order."

Rollo scoffed, causing her to turn to him next. She tilted her head up to look him in the eye. Had he always been that tall? Most men were naturally taller than her tiny frame, but it was absurd how much he towered over her. His dark hazel eyes hooded as he gazed back down at her, revealing nothing of his emotions. That just wouldn't do. Lifa stretched up on her toes before he could stop her and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as she lifted herself up and allowed herself to dangle against him. She felt him sigh in exasperation, refusing to return the embrace as he stood there stiffly.

"I refuse to release you until you give me a hug," she told him petulantly.

He sighed again and without a word, turned towards the ship with her still dangling on his front. Floki and Ragnar laughed as her feet swung slightly with the movement, making her grin into his shoulder. As much as she had loved traveling, she had missed this easy camaraderie. It would be good to go home.

Temperance stood off to one side, not quite part of the men they were taking, but still tied up at the wrists like them. The leader, the blonde with shockingly blue eyes, never let her stray far from him, keeping a tight grasp on the end of the rope that was secured to her bindings. He had seemed shocked to find the small woman with long blonde hair waiting for them by the odd looking ship. The woman had smiled when the crazy man who had originally taken Temperance pulled her into the biggest hug the Princess had ever seen. She blushed slightly and looked down. She had never had a relationship as open as that. Even with her family. It wasn't proper. In private, maybe, but not standing on an exposed beach surrounded by men and dead bodies.

A soft lilting voice brought her eyes back up. The blonde was hugging the man holding the rope, smiling at him before turning to the large scary one who had murdered the king without hesitation. The warrior stared her down for a minute before she launched herself at him, clinging to his neck as the others laughed. The man sighed with a small smile tugging at his lips and turned to the ship, easily climbing aboard even with the woman firmly attached to him.

The laughing crazy man shook his head and bent to gather up a pack that lay in the sand. The leader spoke to him quietly before tugging on the rope, signaling Temperance to follow him. She did so quietly. All her courage and fight had drained out of her as she watched the big man kill her father. She had nothing left. Her family, her home. Everything she'd ever known was lost to her now. She had no choice but to silently follow these barbarians, and pray to God to keep her safe.

Lifa settled back on the pile of treasure with a sigh, pretending it didn't dig into her back painfully. A pair of long toned legs framed her as her brother, perched atop a chest of gold, carefully pulled her hair into small braids. The others, used to the pair's oddities, ignored them in favor of steering them home. The handful of male slaves tied up against the mast gave them sidelong looks of disdain and fear while the female Ragnar had taken for himself stared openly.

Lifa stared back, wondering at the wide-eyed look she received. The brunette woman was clearly afraid (especially of Floki) but had set that aside in favor of ogling the only other woman onboard. She supposed it was odd, seeing one so small easily falling in with the large warriors around them. Judging by her clothing, Lifa guessed the woman was nobility of some sort in England. She wouldn't be any good as a slave. At least not the working kind. And Ragnar never seemed the sort to take a slave just to warm his bed.

"Ragnar," Lifa called, careful not to turn her head and disrupt her brother's work. "Why did you take the woman?"

Just within her line of sight she could see Rollo heave a great sigh and roll his eyes, turning to stare out at the sea, "Because he is a great fool."

Some of the men chuckled, including Ragnar who promptly settled down beside her, twisting until his head lay in her lap. She tilted her head down slightly, eyeing him as he smirked up at her.

"Lifa, my love," he teased lightly. He hardly ever was like this unless he was in an amazingly good mood. A successful raid and capture of slaves must have been enough to set it off. "Why do you ask?"

She shook her head lightly as her brother giggled, dropping her hair in favor of going to the food storage and collecting a snack. Lifa looked back at the terrified girl, "She is not made for slave work."

"Ah," Ragnar flipped over to his hands and knees, leaning forward so his face hovered inches from her own. She refused to back away however, merely gazing unamusedly back at him. "But she is not for slave labor at all." He grinned impishly, reminding her of Floki for a moment, "I intend to make her my wife."

Lifa's eyes widened in disbelief as Ragnar continued to grin. She turned to his brother, hoping to see a confirmation that this was in fact a joke. Rollo frowned at her, his displeasure radiating at his brother. Her eyes went back to the woman cowering against the mast. She may be a fine princess in England, but she was no Earl's wife.

She shook her head, "Rollo was right." At Ragnar's questioning look she clarified, "You are a fool."