“The Chains, We Serve”
Chapter 1 - Unsteady Shores
Askeladd/Original female Character, hurt/comfort, action/adventure, pre-canon, canon compliant, hurt comfort, eventual smut, secret relationship
Trigger warning: canon-typical violence, graphic description, explicit sexual content,
summary: In autumn of 995, Askeladd decides to sail homeward after a successful raid, only to be ensnared by a storm and encountered by hostile pirates As his ship needs repair, he docks at the village of his old companion Ulf before he can finally return home. However, his friend is away and Askeladd has to put up with someone else, he once revered. Bound by memories of admiration and a longing he cannot ignore, Askeladd embarks on a precarious path, torn between his desires and the inevitable consequences. AO3
Chapter 2 I Chapter 3
Askeladd leapt from his boat and walked over the creaking dock. Being back on firm ground felt strange after all those weeks at sea. His legs felt wobbly and he had trouble walking straight. With a groan, he stroked his short blonde hair and pinched his nose. Never once in his life had he been seasick. Not when he first set foot on a boat, not when he first travelled on the North Sea to England, not even when his boat almost capsized in the most horrible storm he had ever seen. Nevertheless, the second he set foot on land after a long journey, he got landsick. How ironic, he thought to himself, for someone, who doesn’t even like sea travel.
A strong hand slapped amicably on his shoulder and he almost tripped over his own unsteady feet. When he looked to his left, a tall man with long brown hair and a long beard was laughing at him. He was taller and broader than Askeladd himself. With his padded coat and nasal helmet, there was no doubt he was a Viking through and through.
“Swaying already? Land legs that rusty?” Björn asked still laughing, while he walked beside him. Askeladd huffed in response. His second-in-command already knew the answer to his question.
“How bad is the damage?” he asked, eyeing the cracked mast and dented hull. If he were honest with himself, he didn’t want to know the answer.
“Not a shipwright,” Björn replied and scratched his head under the helmet pondering, “but I’d guess at least several days?”
“Speak to the harbourmaster and the shipwrights,” Askeladd grumbled, continuing towards the village. At least we made it here. There are worse places to be stuck for a few days. The streets and alleys of the village were still busy around midday. People were trading and bargaining in the market while others were going home for their lunch. With raised brows, Askeladd observed the busy market at the centre of the village. There were more stalls and more varieties of goods since the last time he was here. The settlement was obviously prospering. Not that this surprised him. The location of the village was ideal. Close to the sea, with a harbour to access the North Sea, surrounded by large forests and mountains, which made it easier to defend. As far as he knew, the soil in this area was fertile and there were many farms nearby to provide for the village and even for trade. Askeladd wrinkled his nose at a strange smell the wind blew to him. He didn’t recognise it and puzzled his head over it as he walked across the market. He whistled in surprise when he reached the source of the smell. There was a stall full of exotic spices, which was heavily guarded for obvious reasons.
In a few months, this village has grown and grown. I underestimated his abilities clearly; he thought as he strode up to the largest house of the settlement; a typical Danish longhouse. Almost in the middle of the long side was a giant double-leaf door, secured by two tall guards, who were almost as tall as the entrance and only acknowledged him with a short nod. Askeladd interpreted this as an invitation and entered the dimly lit main hall.
At first, his eyes needed to adjust to the gloomy main room of the building. A great hall with a large hearth in the middle; its embers were still glowing, and long oak tables were evenly distributed throughout the hall. Once, he remembered, all the villagers fit into this room, but probably not anymore. Subconsciously, he held his hand over the gleaming ashes and felt the radiating heat on his skin as he looked around. No one seemed to be here. He noticed new shields with crests that were nailed onto the walls. Askeladd wondered whether these were the crests of allies or slain enemies when he noticed a shadow on the left side of the room.
On this side of the hall two richly ornamented chairs stood on a wooden pedestal and behind them hung a thick black curtain which separated the main hall from the corridor which led to the private chambers of the chieftain. The curtain moved and the figure of a woman appeared.
“Hello Askeladd,” she greeted him calmly as she walked towards him.
“Greetings to the Lady of this great hall!” Askeladd bowed, flashing a smile that usually charmed women, but she looked at him blankly.
“I’ve heard your ship needs repair?” she asked and tilted her head slightly as she waited for his response. Askeladd raised his brows in surprise before he smiled at her once again.
“Well informed, I see,” he grinned, shrugging, “We ran into some competitors and then there was a gentle but stiff breeze…. nothing worth mentioning,” he winked.
“You encountered pirates on the open sea,” Skadi corrected, her piercing blue eyes unwavering, “and then your ship was torn apart in a storm.”
Askeladd ground his teeth before he laughed and smirked at her. Skadi was tall for a woman, but he was still a few centimetres taller than her, enough for him to look down at her with a smile.
“Don’t listen to rumours. Competitors and a gentle breeze,” he smirked mischievously, “But I have to admit we still need a shipwright, and we probably have to stay for a few days.” He tried to give her his most irresistible smile but again, his charm met her indifference.
“Where’s your wonderful husband?” he inquired, turning around as if he could find him in the hall.
“Away on business travels,” she replied, walking past him, mocking his tone with a blank face. Ulf was a Viking warrior who regularly raided the coast of England like Askeladd did. At least she has some sense of humour, he thought as he smiled at her remark.
Skadi went to the right side of the hall and called a name through an open door. Only now he noticed her cunningly pinned-up blonde hair, which, together with her velvet green dress, gave her a noble appearance. His gaze lingered a second too long on her behind when she turned back at him.
“I’m afraid, you have to put up with me, Askeladd,” she stated with a firm voice and went to stay next to him. They both looked up at the wall full of shields. One shield, with a large crack in the middle and a strangely familiar crest, drew his interest.
“That’s the emblem of one of the English lords we defeated,” Skadi said softly. In the corners of his eyes, he saw her smiling, but he didn’t dare to look at her.
“It was the last battle we thought together, I think,” Askeladd added whispering, and both seemed to be lost in thought. He tensed when their shoulders touched slightly but didn’t pull away.
“It feels like a lifetime away…” Skadi whispered and their eyes met. “Now my life is…different.” There was a touch of sadness in her gaze and it made Askeladd gulp. As he looked down at her, he wanted to be as close and as far away from her as possible. His entire body felt as if it were being torn apart by this inner turmoil.
Suddenly, a door creaked as a servant entered the hall, and both jumped away from each other. Skadi turned, her whole demeanour had changed within seconds, as she looked at him stone-faced.
“Ingrid will organise the accommodation for your men. Everything related to the repair of your ship, you have to settle with our harbour master, everything else with me directly. As a welcome, we invite you and your men to a feast tonight. There we can talk about the costs of your stay. Is this alright with you?” she explained with a cold smile that left no room for debate.
Askeladd gave an equivalent fake smile and nodded, “Thank you. I’ll tell my men. I see you tonight.” He left the hall, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The coming days would be interesting.
The sun had set and torches lit up the narrow streets and alleys of the village when Askeladd decided to join the feast. Ingrid, the servant from earlier, had already assigned all his men to different accommodations. To be honest, Askeladd was surprised at how well-organised and determined the young woman was. She ignored suggestive comments from his men or replied with snarky remarks, which made even the hardest bastard blush in embarrassment. It was fun to watch but at the same time, it reminded him of Ingrid’s mistress, who probably had taught her not to let herself be pushed around, especially not by men.
“Your men are accommodated, my Lord,” Ingrid said and bowed her head slightly. It took Askeladd a moment before he realised she was talking to him.
“Don’t call me Lord. I am no Lord,” he replied with a charming grin, although he noticed her downcast gaze.
“My mistress told me to treat you with the utmost respect because you are a friend of the master,” Ingrid explained with her head tilted down and only raised her hand to point to the great hall, “Therefore you will stay with the master’s family.”
Askeladd followed her gesture and raised his brows, something he had done a lot since he landed here.
“Did your mistress forbid you from looking at me?” he said jokingly and studied the reaction of the young servant. For a second, Ingrid looked up at him confused and blushed deeply when she noticed his winning smile.
“N..n…no. My mistress said nothing like that,” she stuttered and looked in another direction.
“But she warned you about me, didn’t she?” the experienced warrior sarcastically concluded as he stepped closer, causing Ingrid to shake her head vigorously and run away. With loud laughter, he watched her run to the great hall before he noticed a tall figure walking towards him. With a content smile, he put his hands in the pockets of his coat and went to meet his friend halfway.
“Already pissing off our hosts?”, his second-in-command asked, walking beside him.
“I do my very best not to,” Askeladd smirked and thought back on Ingrid’s reaction. It wasn’t his fault, she was so easy to tease.
“Is that the reason why you haven’t shown up?” Björn grumbled, “And I have to go looking for you like a stray kitten?”
Askeladd laughed and slapped his friend's shoulder, “I was already on my way. Plus, I can hardly count as a kitten? More like a stray dog…. or fox!”
“Why should I look for a fox?” his friend shook his head and swept his long hair away from his face, which frequently obscured his vision when he didn't have his helmet on.
“I’m just saying, I’m more like a fox than a kitten. And you shouldn’t come and get me to shitty feasts like this,” Askeladd sighed and stopped.
Björn halted as well and began to enumerate, “But it isn’t shitty at all. The food is good, lots of meat, and wine and beer as much as we want. Even the music is great,” then he added gravely, “and the women are fuckable.”
“Thank the Gods!” Askeladd replied sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can enjoy any of this. Unlike you bastards, I have to sit politely at the table of the chieftain and since Ulf is gone, I have to enjoy the company of his wife.” His words dripped with sarcasm while he glared at the great hall.
Björn creased his brow and noted, “Skadi is very fuckable, too.”
“That’s part of the problem,” the blonde chuckled and ran his hand through his beard. “She’s very nice to look at; she has always been…”
His thoughts drifted to the first time when he had seen her. On a battlefield at the coast of England. Askeladd had been slightly injured and exhausted from fights. The site had been chaotic, with corpses and wounded lying one above the other. Everybody had been spattered with blood and mud, he couldn’t distinguish between ally or enemy. This was when he had seen her for the first time, like a Valkyrie had come from the sky for them.
A sudden push from his friend snapped him out of his thoughts and caused him to stumble towards the great hall.
“It’s no use,” Björn proclaimed as they continued walking, “There are worse nights than sitting next to a beautiful woman with beer and food! Just don’t listen to what she says!” The broad-shouldered Norse burst into laughter, while Askeladd sighed again.
“I finally see why you’re so good with women, my friend.”
Standing in front of the double-leaf door, the captain took a deep breath while his second-in-command still laughed at his own joke. Björn’s right, it’s no use. Grit your teeth and get to it!
With a swift movement, he opened the door and entered the great hall. It was packed with people; the air was stale and heavy with the fragrance of alcohol and food. Over the heath, they cooked a whole pig on a split and the smell of roasted meat made his mouth water. When had he last eaten anyway? Askeladd looked around to see familiar faces, but the room was busting with people, eating, talking and dancing, he couldn’t make anyone out. In the right corner of the room, a music group played lute, bone flute and drums, while some people sang and danced to the tunes. A slight smile crept into his face as he observed the merry feast. It was months ago since they had had such a welcome. Apparently, his men needed a change of scene and if he was honest with himself, he needed that, too.
Björn thrust an ale pot into Askeladd’s hand, while the blonde let his eye wander through the room. His men had mingled with the villagers and sat at several tables throughout the hall. Taking a first sip from his beer; it tasted smooth yet somewhat harsh; his eyes found Skadi. She sat in the middle of a long table that stood under the wooden pedestal with the two ornamented chairs. It seemed that the community's most important and richest men were also seated there. She still wore her velvet green dress, however this time, he noticed how it emphasised her female figure. Her hair was now loose, held by a metal hair band, that gave her an almost regal look.
She is really nice to look at, he thought when Skadi suddenly caught sight of him and riveted her gaze on him. Askeladd almost choked on his beer when he noticed her piercing ice-blue gaze. Subtly, the lady of the hall nodded towards the free chair next to her and Askeladd said goodbye to his friend to move himself through the crowd to take the free seat at the table.
“Good evening, everyone!” Askeladd exclaimed with his most winning smile and toasted friendly towards the others at the table. All clinked their glasses except for Skadi, who looked ahead indifferently.
“You are late, Askeladd,” she commented sharply and turned to look at him blankly, “What kept you? Competitors or a gentle breeze?”This night will be interesting, indeed.
-> Chapter 2
