Vikings Imagines

Saving Hvitserk Part 1

Warning: descriptions of graphic violence

Sweat drips down my brow as I wipe the back of my hand across my eyes, pushing my now disheveled hair back and out of my face. With a yell, I thrust my sword forward, plunging it through the stomach of an incoming Saxon. I pull my sword back again quickly, but blood sprays out of the mans abdomen before I have time to turn around. I stand in shock, my face now dripping in the hot liquid. I crinkle my nose and spit on the ground, the metallic taste of the mans blood fills every crevice of my mouth. The Christian drops to his knees before me, his eyes wide at the sight of my now blood soaked skin, hair, and clothing. His blood. He sits there in shock momentarily before a booted foot shoves down at his shoulder, causing him to die flat on his face. I look up and face Hvitserk who has a blinding smile in contrast to the blood that's also spilled against his skin. His laughter fills the battlefield and drowns out the screams. He's always been one to love a good fight.

Another Saxon comes running behind Hvitserk, but I shove past him and remove my axe from my belt, throwing it straight into the mans skull. He drops instantly, sending Hvitserk into an even more hysterical fit of laughter. I watch as Hvitserk leans back, arms wide, his face to the sky as he enjoys the moment. The drops of blood painted across his skin stand out against his fair coloring, sadistically beautiful. I kick the Saxon over with my foot, removing my axe and putting it back in its place. As I turn to run I hear the Saxon trumpet sound three times.

"They're retreating! They're retreating!" The voices of our soldiers echo over the field as the Saxons throw down their weapons and run away. Chants and laughter fill the meadow, men and shield maidens crying out in victory. I watch with a smile on my face as the Saxon soldiers run away, terror evident on their faces.

I chuckle to myself as I take a deep breath, sitting down on the grass, avoiding the bleeding corpses surrounding me. I watch as the sons of Ragnar leap into one another's arms, no doubt praising each other for yet again avenging their fathers death. I smile and lay back, trying to catch my breath. I close my eyes as the exhaustion and reality hits. I take a deep breath before pulling myself back up to my feet, stepping over the bodies littered across the grass and start walking back to camp. I need a bath and sleep now more than ever.

——

After getting back to camp and collecting some clean clothes, I decided to sneak off to a nearby river during the celebratory feast. Men and women were scattered around fires all over camp, songs about the God's echoed into the sunset. Cups of mead are being waved around as warriors make toasts and share stories of battle. I smile to myself while walking past a table seated with all the sons of Ragnar. Bjorn sits in the middle talking politics with Ivar, Ubbe, and leaders who have joined us. Sigurd is off to the side making conversation with warriors, not paying much attention at all to his brothers. I stop momentarily, not spotting Hvitserk near the table. He's probably off trying to find some shield maiden's to bring to his hut, no doubt. I smile to myself at the thought. I've always maintained my distance from the sons of Ragnar. They're all too charming, and they know it. I watch the women of Kattegat and how they behave after a brush with the Lothbrok's. I have no intentions of becoming those women.

I'm pulled from my thoughts as I feel the dried blood tightening on my skin. I roll my eyes in disgust and continue walking towards the river as I absentmindedly pick and scrub at the layer of filth covering my face. I keep my eyes down on the ground before me as I walk, not caring to socialize. I've kept this little spot of mine a secret since we got here, having found it in the first week. The river breaks off into a secluded area surrounded by trees and brush. The water is warm, and the sky above is clear. I've come here to bathe every single night I'm able since we set up camp here, and have no intentions of sharing it with anyone before we leave. Finally I can hear the rippling water as I near the river, and I sigh in relief. Once at its shores I sit on a dead tree branch, laying my dress next to me.

My muscles ache and scream as I peel my axe belt, armor, and clothes from my body. I strip completely naked, remaining seated on my branch. I wince as I move my arms up to my hair and begin unbraiding it, pulling the leather and cuffs that had been braided in, out. I run my fingers through the knotted hair as I stand, approaching the water. A hum leaves my lips as my feet enter the warm water. I carefully walk further, fulling submerging myself once I'm waist deep. I sigh as I gently clean my skin, careful not to irritate the already purple bruises forming on my skin. I stay a while and bask in my solitude, staring up at the stars before me. I lose track of time as I relax, eventually forcing myself to get out and dry off once I can't ignore the rumbling in my stomach any longer.

Once out of the water I lazily wring my hair out, letting my skin air dry a bit before sliding my dress over my body. I stare at the hair pieces I had removed on the ground, silently contemplating how important my looks were at this very moment. I decide against trying to pull my hair up or braid it. After all, I plan on sneaking food from the feast back to my tent and retiring there for the foreseeable future. If I'm lucky, nobody will even notice my presence or absence.

I near the tables of food in the center of camp, my stomach groaning as I watch skewers of meat being piled high. I grab what appears to be some animals leg, careful not to let it touch the dirty clothes in my other hand. I walk quicker towards my tent, the roasted meat burning my fingers as I try not to drop it. Finally my tent is in sight and I can almost feel my bed calling to me. Right before I reach my paradise I'm stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I don't bother turning around, instead shrugging whoever it is off of me.

"Take your hand off of me if you want to keep it" I say through my teeth as I begin pushing into my tent once more.

I'm grabbed again, but this time I drop my clothes and food and turn around, pulling my axe from its belt. I look up to see a pair of beautiful hazel eyes staring back at me, a humorous look in them. Hvitserk quickly threw his hands up as if he's innocent and laughs.

"Hey, easy. I just wanted to say thank you." His smile is infectious, causing me to look down and smile myself.

"Oh shit, Hvitserk. I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you." I say nervously, unable to contain my embarrassment.

I stare at him in front of me, not looking like I've ever seen him before. His hair is loose of all braids, pulled back into a simple bun. His skin is clean, clearly having taken his own bath as well. He's got on a new set of clean clothes, free of the leather armor that covered most of his body before. Now a dark tunic hangs gently from his toned arms and torso, the front not fully tied, exposing a bit of his chest. I try not to stare as he helps pick my clothes up, scrunching his nose at the blood soaked leather and cloth.

"I just wanted to say thank you" He says with a sly smile. I reach for the clothes, but he silently rejects my request for them back. "Don't worry about these. I'll have a servant wash them for you. It's the least I can do since you saved my life." I try to hide my reddening cheeks, staring back at the meat on the ground.

"Anyone would have done it. No need to thank me." I answer, trying to reach for my clothes once more. He rejects me again, instead whistling for a nearby servant and giving them to her. He puts his hands in his pockets before nodding his head over to my tent.

"This is where you sleep?" He asks, pulling a hand from his pants and pointing to my tent.

"It is" I say, looking back.

"Well we cant have that. It's too dirty. Come with me, we'll eat while I have something else set up for you." He declares, pulling my hand into his and leading the way back to the feast.