𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃 | Ragnar Lothbrok ¹

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗

STILL WATERS RUN DEEP

KING RAGNAR LOTHBROK and his crew were away for nearly six months when they returned, bearing news of their triumphant raid. The people of Kattegat sang their praises, welcoming their beloved warriors back to town with jubilant cheers.

Sophie stood beside Helen and the other slaves, a little away from the boisterous crowd, observing the Lothbrok family's reunion. Rollo's absence was notable, considering he was renowned as one of the best warriors. She watched the famous priest, Athelstan, whom she had yet to meet, warmly greet Queen Aslaug and Ivar, a display of affection that made Sophie wonder if she would ever hold them in such high regard.

Her attention was so consumed by Athelstan that she failed to notice King Ragnar's eyes on her, although Queen Aslaug didn't miss the silent exchange. It wasn't until he passed by her that she finally became aware, refusing to bow her head like her fellow servants. It was a practice she had never adhered to and never would.

The day flew by swiftly as they busied themselves preparing for the night's feast. The Vikings celebrated their glory and victory with the usual festivities of food, drinks, and revelry, something Sophie wasn't prepared for, especially without Helen, upon whom she had grown increasingly dependent.

To her surprise, she was assigned this time to serve the King and Queen's guests, a considerable number more than the attendees of the last feast. Another King from Norway, who had joined the raid, was also to join them for the night.

As the time arrived, Sophie had to repeatedly remind herself that she would manage just fine. She assisted the other servants in serving the food, bracing herself for the men and women who were exuberant and boisterous, laughing, singing, and dancing with gusto. She had to be careful, watching her steps to avoid colliding with anyone.

Seated at one of the tables she was serving were Lagertha, her son Björn, Torvi, Athelstan, Floki, Helga, the King of Norway, his brother, and several others she couldn't recognize. On the opposite table were the Lothbrok brothers, accompanied by Torvi's son, which Sophie tried her best to avoid, leaving Margrethe to attend to them as she focused on Lagertha's table.

"Thank you," Athelstan smiled at her as she poured him some ale, speaking her language, which warmed her heart. The presence of some of her people in this foreign land gave her the comfort she needed. Throughout the night, she found herself attending to the priest more than the others, a fact that didn't go unnoticed.

"More ale!" King Harald shouted with a chuckle, extending his cup for Sophie to refill, which she did. "Are you new here?" he asked, prompting her to shake her head.

She was relieved when he turned away to continue his boisterous conversation with his brother and Floki. However, her relief was short-lived when someone yanked her away from the table. She was ready to lash out at whoever it was until she realized it was Sigurd, one of the Lothbrok brothers.

"Come on, get me some ale," he slurred. "I need more ale too."

"Brother," Ubbe, the eldest, said. "You're drunk; leave the poor girl alone."

Sigurd was still clutching her arm as he attempted to stand, failing repeatedly, and she waited for him to release his grip. She practiced patience. She didn't want to make a scene, at least not until the intoxicated Lothbrok pulled her onto his lap abruptly, causing her to push him away forcefully, which led to the chair breaking and collapsing with the two of them on it.

The room fell silent as Sophie regained her footing quicker than she had fallen. Everyone's eyes were fixed on her, curiosity and, particularly, Ragnar's excitement, watching her. However, she was too furious to care.

Gathering the remnants of the chair, she lunged at Sigurd, striking him repeatedly. "Don't. You. Dare. Touch. Me. Ever. Again. You. Stupid. Heathen," she spat in her own language at the young man, who shielded his face from the blows.

No one intervened as they all watched. Ragnar was smiling broadly, but not as much as Ivar.

She finally ceased her assault, seemingly returning to her senses. For a moment, she forgot she was a slave in this place, and the man she had just beaten with a chair was King Ragnar's son.

She cursed herself, louder than intended, before hearing Sigurd burst into laughter, followed by Ivar. Her anger dissolved into tears that threatened to escape at any moment, while Sigurd's laughter gradually shifted to anger.

"You stupid whore," he spat, attempting to stand before stumbling towards her, only to be met with another blow. He halted mid-air as he grabbed the chair and spun it around, sending Sophie flying to the other side, her delicate frame colliding with the floor.

If Sophie thought she had anger issues before, it was because she hadn't encountered Sigurd yet. "Sigurd!" Queen Aslaug shouted just before Sigurd lunged at Sophie with the chair.

If it weren't for King Ragnar, who stood between the two, Sophie was certain she would have suffered a broken bone or two by now.

"No, my son," he spoke calmly, the sly smile still etched on his face, turning his back to Sophie, who remained on the floor where she had landed. "We don't harm young ladies."

Surprisingly, Sigurd seemed willing to comply with his father's words, placing the chair down with a thud before returning to the table he shared with his brothers.

"Everyone, please enjoy the feast! Skål!" King Ragnar addressed his guests, raising his cup and earning cheers from the crowd. Then, he turned to Sophie with a rather annoyed expression.