The Viking Queen

Chapter 1: An arranged marriage

Ásbjǫrg was the daughter of Earl Torsten, she lived in a city on the Western side of Norway. Ásbjǫrg had been born in winter of 843 and had grown up into a proud, confident beauty that Earl Torsten and his wife Thyra were very proud of, however that was the problem as she was their biggest pride other than their Kingdom; she was also something they would have to sacrifice.

Earl Torsten had gotten himself into a lot of trouble with King Ragnar as he had been part of a planned attack against him and now, they were at risk of war. Earl Torsten had been to Kattegat a few times before with his family, however Ásbjǫrg had noticed that this time he had chosen to go alone, leaving her mother Thyra in charge of the Kingdom in his absence, upon his return he had barely spoken to anyone, that was until a week later.

Earl Torsten sat at the table in the hall, eyes looking over to his only daughter who had been dressed in a light blue embroidered wool hangerock, her black locks tied to the side in a single braid, a few strands loose and resting upon her pale features. Her piercing blue eyes looked up from the chicken on her plate to meet his once she felt her father staring at her.

"What is it father?" Ásbjǫrg spoke up with concern evident in her tone.

Thyra now looked up at her husband, also noticing his stare towards their daughter and almost as though something had just clicked into place, she threw a hand over her mouth to contain any noise that she feared may escape past her lips.

"Please, Torsten. . ." Thyra began, eyes seemingly already beginning to well with tears. "Husband, please."

The Earl now cast his gaze in the direction of his wife before he let his hand stretch across the table to the drinking horn so that he could get himself a drink of mead and gather up his courage to give his announcement that undoubtedly upset his family.

"Tomorrow we shall all sail to Kattegat." Torsten begins, however he is interrupted by his daughter.

"There will be no war then?"

"An agreement has been made." Torsten continues on, taking yet another drink of his mead and ignoring the sob that had left his wife's lips. "There will be no war, King Ragnar has paid us twelve ounces of silver and in exchange you will marry his son."

Ásbjǫrg felt as though she had taken an axe to the stomach, she had known of many women who had been arranged to marry someone by their parents but she had never believed her own to do such a thing to her, she swallowed hard before asking the dreaded question.

"Which of his sons am I to marry?"

Torsten knew that Ásbjǫrg was reacting far too calmly to this news; he could sense that this was the calm before she summoned a storm that even Thor himself would be proud of.

"You are to marry his youngest son, Ivar." Torsten announced, leaning back in his chair to eye his daughter.

Ásbjǫrg couldn't stop the scoff that left her lips; she turned her head and stared at the flickering ambers of the fire that lit the room before she abruptly stood up from her seat, causing objects that were littering the wooden table to clatter together.

"You cannot expect me to marry him. You and I know the stories of his cruelty, his ruthlessness in the far lands of Ireland and not to mention the fact he is apparently impotent and crippled." Ásbjǫrg raised her voice, remaining exactly where she had stood from her chair. "I will not marry him, you cannot make me."

Now Torsten rose up from his seat to match his daughter in this fight for dominance, this was not a new behaviour from his daughter, she had never liked being told what to do from anyone. Ásbjǫrg wasn't spoiled, she did not act this way because she had been spoiled all her life, she was kind to the slaves and she did not act like a brat, however she had a pride that most women of her age did not have, she had a strong spirit.