The coastline looked vaguely familiar, although Sherlock couldn't place it at first. As the headland came into view, however, his gut clenched as he finally recognized it: the small series of coastal villages he and Johann had scouted a year earlier, and discarded as unworthy of a raid. There was a Christian church serving the area, true, but the small collection of silver in its chests hadn't been worth taking when it was just the two of them, let alone as booty for an entire boatload of raiders.

Johann gave a startled murmur as he, too, recognized the headland. "Why are we here, Sherlock?" he asked in a low voice. "We told them there wasn't anything worth taking…" He fell silent as the answer to his own question clearly came to him. "Thralls. This is a slave raid." He swore angrily; neither man would have agreed to this journey had they realized either their destination or its true purpose. Slavery was a way of life, there was no way around that fact, but both men had been vocal in their insistence on not taking part of any slaving runs, both because of their personal beliefs and because their families no longer kept thralls, but rather kept servants.

So much for that; their chieftain clearly had decided it was time to force them to participate in this raid. Johann had disliked Magnussen before this; now, he thought he might actually hate the man. Sherlock certainly hadn't made his disdain a secret, but if he didn't lower his challenging gaze, he would find himself in a battle he might win…but wouldn't want to as it would mean shouldering responsibility for their clan. Something Johann knew he had no interest in doing. And if he made his unwillingness to lead known to the other warriors…no, it wouldn't end well.

Luckily for them both – because Johann of course would back his friend up even if he thought he was making an enormous mistake – Sherlock returned his attention to this weapons, although a scowl remained on his lips.

Johann wondered if he was more upset about the fact that they'd been tricked into going on a slaving run – or if he was thinking about the young girl he'd seduced the last time they'd come this way.

The young girl whose name was now inscribed in runes above Sherlock's heart. Oh, not her true name of course; but Johann knew the reason his friend had asked for the word 'Skógarhunang' to be inked on his flesh, although he'd said nothing of it. Sherlock would just deny it had anything to do with the maiden he'd lain with. And since the word meant 'wild honey' he could plausibly argue that it was more to do with his interests in beekeeping than with a mere slip of a girl.

But Johann knew better, and kept silent out of respect for his prickly friend's obsessive need for privacy. He and his brother Mycroft had a saying: that caring wasn't an advantage, but Johann had seen Sherlock's belief in that creed crumbling as the months had passed. He'd pried out the fact that his friend had asked Molly to come with them, and even confided that he thought he'd finally found a woman worthy of becoming his wife, which had shocked Johann into speechlessness at the time.

Now here they were, about to take part in a raid on her village that would end with her as a thrall unless he or Sherlock got to her first. Which, Johann decided grimly as they neared the part of the shore where they would beach their longboats, would never come to pass. He remembered the girl well enough, and Sherlock certainly had her image ingrained in his mind and heart; she lived on the outskirts of the village near the beehives she tended.

How difficult could it be?

oOo

"No, I won't hide! I want to help!"

Mary gave her friend an exasperated look. "Molly, you can't! It's too dangerous! Besides, your father built the bolt-hole for a reason, you know he would want you to -"

"Fine!" Molly sighed; whenever Mary brought up her father she knew it was useless to continue arguing. He'd been dead less than six months, and for the first time Molly was glad of it; he would have hated to see his beloved home sacked and put to the torch but a group of Norsemen.

At least she could comfort herself with the fact that this raid surely had nothing to do with Sherlock; if he'd been lying to her, then the raid would have come far sooner. Still, as she descended the ladder at Mary's urging, holding her most precious possession close to her heart, she couldn't help but sigh with regret. For a while she'd entertained the fantasy that Sherlock would come back for her, unable to live without her, and carry her off to be with him.

However, in her heart she knew that she never would have left with him, at least not as long as her father still lived.

No matter how much she'd longed to do so even before she'd…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shouting, the clash of steel on steel, and her heart sped up in her chest. She looked upward, but the hidden trapdoor was closed. Seconds later she flinched as she heard the sound of the barred front door being thrown open; shortly after that Mary began shouting threats and Molly could just picture her fierce, loyal friend taking up the ancient sword once wielded by some long-forgotten ancestor and threatening the raiders with it.

She stepped away from the ladder, knowing she should be making her way to the hidden alcove her grandparents had put into place years before Molly's parents had been born, the one that was so cunningly hidden that even a raider with the eye of an eagle would be hard-pressed to find, but couldn't make herself move. She needed to hear, to know that Mary was all right; she burned with guilt, but the bundle in her arms was more precious than her own life or Mary's - and her friend agreed wholeheartedly.

A shout, the clang of steel on steel - Mary was an expert swordswoman, a secret only Molly and her father had been privy to until now - and Molly shivered as she fretted over her friend's fate. Would she be slain, or carried off to slavery? Neither fate was one Molly would wish on her worst enemy, let alone her best friend!

Just as she was about to finally make her way to the concealed alcove, an angry male voice froze her in her tracks. "By the Gods, woman, will you stop attacking me and listen? I'm looking for Molly, the beekeeper's daughter! I have to know she's safe or Sherlock will have my head!"

She didn't recognize the voice, but her heart leapt as she realized who it must be. "Johann!" she cried out, groping her way to the ladder. "Down here! Mary, it's all right, let me out!"

She blinked in the sudden light as the heavy wooden trapdoor was lifted - not by Mary, who was standing on the other side, glowering down at her, but by Johann, the Viking who'd come to warn Sherlock that they'd been discovered a year earlier. He looked much the same, with his striking blue eyes and golden braids and moustache, but his expression was grim. "Come on, Molly," he urged her. "We can't save everyone from this raid, but Sherlock says you know the forests well, you and your friend can hide there until…" He fell silent as she ascended the ladder, using one hand to steady herself, and she blushed as she realized it was the sight of the bundle cradled in one arm that had stolen his ability to speak. "Is that…"

She nodded, giving her sleeping son a tender smile. "His name is Einar."

Einar. The name meant one who fights alone. A good choice for a half-Norse baby in a Gaelic settlement; Johann approved. However, this complicated matters; two women could manage in the forest long enough to find their way to the nearest settlement, but two women and a baby? With Magnussen no doubt plotting to raid more than just this one village? Their chances were slim at best, even with Molly's fierce golden-haired protector by her side. A woman Johann would very much like to get to know better. Decision made, he lowered his sword. "You'll have to let me tie you up. Sherlock and I can claim you as our share of the spoils."

Mary's eyes flashed angrily, and she hefted her sword in threatening manner. "Over my dead body! You'll let us go or you'll - "

Molly put a placating hand on her friend's wrist. "Please, Mary. If it means I can be with Sherlock, that he'll claim his son - will he?" she asked Johann, suddenly uncertain. "Or should we take our chances in the forest?"

"Molly, believe me, Sherlock would fight Odin himself to keep you safe. He was furious when Magnussen brought us here. Just let me take you to the longboat; you have my oath that you'll be protected from harm until Sherlock comes for you. Your friend can go if she wants, I have no doubt she can protect herself!" He gave the golden haired Valkyrie an admiring glance; she tossed her head and put her nose in the air, but he thought he caught a glint of interest in her blue eyes as she turned away from him.

Moments later the two women were tethered together, their wrists loosely bound while John tugged them along behind them. He held Sherlock's infant son in his arms; the boy was sleeping but became restless as the sounds of the dying battle assaulted their ears. His hair was a soft fuzzy black and would doubtless become a mess of curls much like his father's, and in better light Johann wondered if his eyes were the same blue-green or brown as his mother's. Ah, something to look forward to. He had both his own sword and Mary's belted at his waist, and his 'captives' could easily free themselves if any of his fellow Vikings were so infused with battle lust that they decided to challenge him for his prizes. Luckily no such challenges emerged; they made it to the longboat with ease.

They didn't have long to wait before Sherlock came running up to join them. "Magnussen's put the men to the sword," he said grimly. "If Mycroft doesn't challenge that bas…" He fell silent as he realized Johann had not one but two women standing next to him...and was holding a squirming bundle in his arms.

Sherlock took a tentative step forward as the bundle made a noise much like that of a cooing pigeon. "Is that…"

"Your son." Molly's voice was quiet but strong, no sounds of tears or hysteria. Unsurprising. "I've named him Einar."

Sherlock responded, not with words, but by reaching out and allowing Johann to carefully lay the small bundle into his waiting arms. He cradled the infant to his chest, gazing down in wonder at the small face staring up at him. When he could tear his eyes away, he looked over at Molly. "I would have come for you, if I'd known."

She nodded, gave him a sad smile. "I know. Johann says you can claim Mary and I as your prizes, will your chieftain allow it?"

"If he doesn't I'll split his skull," Sherlock growled in response. "There's nothing I can do for the rest of your people, but Johann and I can make sure you three are kept safe." Under his breath, he added, "And now Mycroft really had better challenge that bastard for his position. Or else I will."

Johann raised an eyebrow at that; so, Sherlock had finally found a reason worthy of discarding his disdain for the burden of leadership! "When we're back home you'll have to show Molly your newest tattoo," he said casually, hiding a grin behind the drooping ends of his moustache. "It's over his heart," he added helpfully as Molly gave him a puzzled look and Sherlock glowered at him.

"Skógarhunang," he said briefly, feeling a faint flush of red coloring his cheeks. "It means…"

"Wild honey," Molly translated softly. She'd worked herself free of the ropes and allowed them to drop to her feet as she approached him. Mary and Johann watched as she reached up and touched a gentle hand to Sherlock's cheek, then lowered it to rest over his heart. "I missed you too," she whispered, then tiptoed up to place a soft kiss to his lips.

The future was still uncertain: there was Magnussen to contend with, and the possibility that the burden of leadership Sherlock had long avoided might land squarely on his shoulders, but with Molly by his side and Einar to love and protect, he was confident that all challenges would be met - and conquered.

A/N: So there it is, folks, the final chapter. Well, except for the bonus jollock alternate to chapter 2 I promised to write, but if that's not your thing then this is The End. Thanks for reading and following and reviewing!