𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃 | Ragnar Lothbrok ¹

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

AWAKENING TO THE gentle patter of rain, Sophie slowly opened her eyes, finding a sense of calm in the melodious symphony of raindrops harmonizing with the song of the birds.

Happiness was a rare visitor to her waking moments in Kattegat. Little there brought her simple joys, save for her training sessions and conversations with her two close friends. Everything else seemed insignificant.

Each day followed the same pattern—training, visiting Helen and Yelda, and concluding with long, solitary nights during which Sophie yearned for her homeland. She often wondered if she would ever step foot on her native soil again.

On this particular morning, Ubbe was conspicuously absent. Curiosity piqued, Sophie decided to venture into the city. To her surprise, the townsfolk of Kattegat were fixated on her, their intense stares causing her heart to race.

"Christian!" A person nearby hissed, setting off a chain of insults from others. If their looks were piercing, their verbal barbs were even sharper, and she struggled to deflect their impact, striving to tune them out.

Her eyes suddenly met the tall man, Ragnar's best friend; Floki. He had an intensity in his eyes that matched those of the people but he said nothing as he only glared at her.

Sophie desired to escape from the crowd, quickening her pace until she reached the barn, desperately seeking Helen and Yelda. She scanned the barn, hoping to discover some answers in their expressions, but encountered only sorrowful gazes staring back at her.

"Helen?" She murmured, drawing nearer to the two women, disregarding the unfriendly looks from the other servants.

"You should not be here," Helen uttered.

"What is goi-"

"Margrethe is a free woman now," Yelda spoke, harshness apparent in her tone.

"What does that have to do with me?" Sophie asked her.

"She-" Helen started but cut herself off shortly.

"She what, Helen? Tell me."

"He knows," Yelda said, her voice dripping with anger with every word she spilt. "And not just that."

"What? Who knows?" Sophie inquired but received no response as Yelda abruptly stood up and stormed away.

"Helen, what is going on? Tell me!" Sophie's voice trembled as she turned to the older woman.

"Back to your duties!" Shouted the household thrall who had just entered the barn, prompting all the servants to disperse and leave.

"Sophie, go, my child," Helen whispered, reaching out for Sophie's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze before following the others, albeit hesitantly. Sophie could sense that Helen had more to say by the way her eyes lingered on her, but something seemed to be holding her back.

Sinking down onto the hay where Helen and Yelda had been seated just moments ago, Sophie tried to catch her breath as her mind struggled to process the unfolding events.

"The King requires your presence," a voice snapped her out of her reverie as she looked up to find one of Ragnar's men standing by the door ushering her to follow him. She just wished it was Athelstan instead as he felt the closest to home at that moment, but all she could do was wish.

Complying with the man's command, Sophie rose on unsteady legs and trailed behind him. He had to push through the crowd, which had gathered around them, with the onlookers calling out to Sophie with palpable bitterness. All of a sudden, she found herself facing a wave of hostility, completely bewildered as to the cause.

Upon arriving at the King's residence, the man gestured for her to enter, nudging her gently when she hesitated. "Go," he ordered her.

With trembling hands, Sophie pushed the door to the hall open and cautiously stepped inside, only to be met with a flying arrow that landed dangerously close to her head on the door.

She stood frozen, her eyes fixed on Ragnar Lothbrok standing in the hall with a bow aimed at her. "Welcome, Princess," he smirked, making Sophie gulp at his words. "Please, come on in."

He knows.

He knows.

With hesitant steps, Sophie approached him carefully, her eyes never leaving the arrow that threatened to be set loose at any moment. However, this did little to prepare her for when he loosened his grip on the bowstring and the arrow barely missed her by inches.

In truth, Ragnar Lothbrok relished tormenting her, and now that he had reasons to, it brought him pleasure beyond anything else.

"You asked for me, King Ragnar?" she summoned the courage to speak, though her voice came out weaker than she intended.

"Sophie Ealhmunding," he said with a sly smile, mockingly bowing his head. "Princess."

Sophie's heart hammered in her chest, and she felt dizzy all of a sudden.

It couldn't be.

This better be a dream.

"You might be wondering how I came to know," he continued. "Well, a little bird told me your secrets."

She tried to speak, but nothing came out as she stood there with wide eyes.

"I know who you are. They all know, and now..." he paused, "they all want you dead."

"But I did nothing to them," Sophie's voice shook. "Or to you."

King Ragnar let out a chuckle before taking a few threatening strides towards her until he was standing right in front of her.

"You didn't," he said as he looked down at her. "But your father did."

She gulped. "Did what?"

"Slaughter my people," he whispered in her ear. "He betrayed me and my people."

All that she had been concealing from the beginning was now exposed, leaving her vulnerable and with no defences against those pagans.

"I thought I could trust him, just like I thought I could trust you," Ragnar said, standing too close to her, making her fight the urge to recoil. "But now I understand why you decided to lie to me."

Fear seized Sophie's mind as she struggled to find the words to plead her case.

"King Ecbert will pay the price."