I had been hunting my prey for half a day now. He was a warden from the western fields, separated from his group during a Samurai raid.

I, Astrid, was scouting Ashfield for my warlord who was sitting up in Valkenheim right now. I was a Valkyrie warrior. My few companions and I were a select group of the best female warriors, pledged to defend the Viking honor.

It was a warm day but not too hot. I was already starting to miss the bitter cold mountains. I huffed comically and wiped a thin line of sweat from under my helmet. The sun glinted from the tip of my battle-worn spear. An oak canopy cut out most of the blue sky.

The warden had been injured from during the Samurai raid. A long gash along his left thigh and a stab wound in his right shoulder. I observed unseen as he trudged wearily into a hidden clearing, far from anyone else. He fell to his knees and sat down on the soft grass. Short, brown, sweat-soaked hair showed when he took off his scarred helmet.

My orders were to kill anyone, Samurai or Knight, albeit safe to do so but there was something different about this soldier. Plus, where's the honor in killing an injured man? I stalked around a thick tree trunk. Rough bark scraped my hands as I leaned in closer. He clutched his wounds and struggled toward a small pond on the far side of the clearing.

My warlord would love a new trophy and killing him would only help the Viking cause. I raised my spear, using it as a javelin. The wicked point gleamed in the air. The degree was right but there was something holding me back. My gaze fixated on the bleeding soldier who had death waiting just behind the trees.

I scowled. This is wrong. I adjusted my helmet and walked out into the clearing. The warden spotted me right away and struggled to feet, raising his sword.

"I'm not going to kill you," I said calmly. I knew few Latin words so I didn't bother trying.

"Then what are you going to do?" he spat in my tongue.

My eyes lit up in surprise. "You speak my language?"

The wounded warden said nothing and adjusted his blade. Without a second's notice, he lifted the heavy steel and swung. His strike was predictable and clumsy. I blocked it with my shield, grabbed the point, and tossed the sword aside.

"Like I said, I don't want to kill you." My steely eyes met his.

"Really?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "A Viking corners me alone and wounded and refuses to finish me? Have at thee! Show me how much honor you really have!" His plated fists raised to guard his unprotected face.

I ignored his insult and pointed at the bloodsoaked spots of his armor. "Du vil ikke overleve med de (You won't survive with those)"

He scoffed and spat in the grass. "Just fight me already."

"Can't you see that I'm trying to help you?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I am a person just like you and I have no quarrel with you, Warden. You're bleeding and will die if you don't get help so why do you refuse it?"

He stood awkwardly without a response. I took that as compliance and set my weapons down. A cool breeze blew through, ruffling my braided hair.

"Look, there's a pond right over there. Let me at least wash and bandage you."

The warden mumbled something in Latin and dropped his fists. "Fine." He tried to sound defiant but I could hear a tone of relief.

I tried to put his arm around my shoulder but he refused. The warden gave me a discerning look and hobbled over by himself. I made sure to walk right next to him in case he fell. He then sat down near the mini shore where baby reeds sprouted from the muddy base.

"So you really want to help me?" he asked, glancing up at me,

"Why are you so eager to help an enemy?"

"I already told you."

"I've killed dozens of your allies, beheaded, hung, crucified… yet you want to save my life." He glanced up at the sky and smirked. "What do you want?"

I said nothing and set him down near the mini shore.

"I already told you. I just want to help."

"Then I won't fight it anymore. I'm already close to death so you backstabbing me won't make much of a difference."

I chuckled. "You don't have to worry about me. Now I'm going to need to see your shoulder."

He reached over with his left hand and undid a clasp of his shoulder plate. "Can you get the back one?"

I walked around his side and slid off the buckle, letting the round steel plate tumble to the ground. The mail underneath was pierced in the front and covered with dry blood. The warden loosened the rest of the armor on his arm.

I snatched a loose rag from my small provision-bag and dipped it in the crystal water. My body got close to his as I knelt and leaned forward.

I took this moment to sneak a real look at him. He had a hard structured face with a long scar across the bridge of his nose. Brown scruff grew along his jawline. This warden was pretty handsome if I do say so myself.

His eyes met mine, causing me to blush under my helmet.

"You ready for this? It's going to sting a little."

"I've faced worse."

He winced and hissed through his teeth as I wiped at the crusty blood. I cringed as I peeled a large patch from his skin. The cleaning had opened up the wound again so I placed the cloth over the bleeding gash.

"Dammit," he sneered.

"I told you it'd hurt."

"Just get this over with."

I grabbed my only bandages and began wrapping them around his shoulder after I removed the wet rag. I squeezed the blood out in the pond. A red cloud spread in the clear water.

"Alright," I said, leaning back on my haunches. "How do I get down there." I pointed to the inside of his thigh that was also soaked with blood.

The warden glanced at me and shook his head slightly. "I just met you and you already want to get into my trousers?" He chuckled and I laid my face in my palm.

"That's not really what I meant but..."

"I'm just joking. You're going to have to take off the top though. It's easier that way and I also won't sweat up a storm."

I felt the previous tension between us loosen greatly as I began working on his chest plates. A smile broke out under my helmet and I don't really know why.

"Say, do you always wear your helmet? It must get hot under there."

"Unlike you Knights, we don't throw hundreds of pounds of steel on us so no, it doesn't get hot. But I could take it off just this one time." I reached up to the rim of my helm with bloody hands and lifted it off. The warden's face lit up in awe but it was quickly subdued.

"My mates used to tell me all the north women had the faces of hogs but I beg to differ."

"I've had a lot of men tell me I'm beautiful and-"

"Ah, but I may be the first you've willingly stripped." A sly grin spread across his face and I blushed again. This warden sure knew how to tell a joke.

"Had you not threatened to kill me, I would've thought you were tavern jester," I smirked and he laughed at my friendly insult. A silent minute of clinking metal passed. Cicadas and crickets buzzed in the calm forest around us. A bird sang somewhere in the trees. I pulled off his breastplate and set it down in the pile of armor. He helped me take off his mail haubergeon.

"Do you have a woman back home?" I asked to relieve the silence.

"Once, but that was years ago before I picked up the sword. How about you? Do you have a lover in your snowy mountains?"

I shook my head. "War has kept me too busy to settle down. Always somewhere to go… someone to kill. I can't wait for this to all be done."

"Nor can I. I do not despise war but it does grow tiresome. How long have the factions been at war?"

"Too long."

I used the wet rag to wipe off the sweat from his glistening chest. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable but your pants need to come off," I said.

He shrugged and untied the thin rope holding them up. He winced as both the bandaged shoulder and bleeding thigh brought him pain. The heavily armored pants slid down to his knees and he was only in grey underwear.

"Can you get my grieves please?"

I unfastened the shin plates and boots, sliding everything off. He laid there in nothing but underpants.

"Well, feel free to work your magic," he joked awkwardly. Again, I wiped the blood and bandaged with him hissing in pain the entire time. "Fuck!" he exclaimed as I picked off a spot of crusted blood from the edge of the gash.

"Oh, it's not that bad."

"Fuck you too."

I chuckled and wrapped his leg. "There you go."

"What now?" he asked.

"Can you stand?"

"No."

I sat back on the grass. "Then I'll stay here until you can." My hands rested on my knees and I stared up at the cloudy sky. "I never caught your name."

"Octavius. You?"

"Astrid."

Astrid… I like that. It's a pretty name. What does it mean?"

"I don't know. It's just a name.

A few moments of silence passed. Soft wind ruffled my hair and rustled the swaying branches. "Hey, I know we just met and I did try to kill you just a bit ago but as long as we're gonna be together for a while I want to tell you something."

I raised an eyebrow. His gaze met mine and I anticipated what he was about to say.

"Thank you so much for healing me. I'm going to rest now." A grin a mile widespread across his face and I punched him hard on the shoulder. He howled with pain.

"Drittsekk, I thought you were going to ask to kiss me or something."

He clutched his wounded shoulder. "Well, if you're going to bring it up it wouldn't hurt to ask."

I glanced at him. Octavius was a very good looking man and I was really enjoying his company so far. We were also all by ourselves. I wouldn't mind doing things with him but first I had to return the favor.

"I'm not doing anything until you wash yourself. You smell like shit," I said with a hearty smile.