Author's Note: So I am no longer following the show's storyline anymore, I've decided to just do my own thing! Hope you all still enjoy it. I struggle with writer's block and lately I've been pushing myself to write more, so I hope this doesn't come out as sloppy of rushed. Please leave me some reviews and say hi! x

The battle had lasted from dawn until dusk a fortnight after they had arrived in Wessex. It was muddy and violent and bloody. The rain poured down heavily and Thor could be heard striking his anvil in Asgard causing roaring thunder and lightening that lit up the whole sky. The sounds of metal clanging, horses and people screaming filled the air as the Norsemen fought the Saxons. The thick and heady smell of smoke and blood filled the air. As the Earl fought alongside his men, he couldn't help but keep an eye on one young shield maiden―the one whom his brother also kept close by. She fought as gracefully as one could during such a battle. Her hair braided and tied up in a high ponytail, her face splattered with the enemy's blood, the fierce look in her eye...Ragnar stole many glances at her during the long day of fighting. Until it was over.

"Brother! Ragnar!" Rollo called out as he made his way through the camp, as if on a rampage. The battle was over and everyone was tending to their wounds and washing away the day's grime and carnage.

Ragnar heard his brother's shouts and exited his tent to come face to face with him. Rollo stood there, soaked from the rain and still covered in blood and dirt, "Rollo, what is it?"

"Where is she? Have you seen Freja?!" he said, worry prominent in his voice and his brown eyes dark.

"I thought she was with you...after the battle, I saw her head back here," Ragnar explained as he looked around the camp, "Unless..."

"Unless what!" Rollo shouted. He had no time for his brother's games, "She is not here, she is not in our tent, and she is not among the wounded or dead,"

"She has been captured," Ragnar said, "I am sure of it. She is not anywhere to be found, she was not killed. There must have been Saxon spies waiting close to the camp,"

"If they have taken her then surely she is dead by now," Rollo replied angrily.

"Do not be so stupid, brother," Ragnar chided, "They have taken her as a hostage, to use as leverage,"

"Leverage for what?" Rollo asked. He was hot with rage. How could she have been captured...

"We shall find out soon enough," Ragnar replied as he turned to walk back into his tent, "For now, we must be patient,"

Freja was captured after the battle by the Saxons and they were bringing her to see King Ecbert at his villa in the Kingdom of Wessex. They had spared her because she spoke some of their language to them when they attacked her and that made her a valuable hostage. Perhaps they thought she could provide information on the agenda of the "heathen army". The rope tied around her wrists burned as she struggled to loosen them―these men had tied them too tight and they cut into her tender flesh. She was in such a vulnerable position but she was thankful none of these strange men had tried to touch her. If they had and her hands were free, they would be the ones screaming.

The distance from her camp and this kingdom was not as great as she expected. Her captors had brought her there within just a few hours. It was now so dark out that only the moon and stars in the sky served as illumination on this journey against her will. They entered what appeared to be a large courtyard and suddenly came to a stop. One of the men got off of his horse and made his way over to her, dragging her roughly out of the prisoner's caravan. She stumbled out and struggled to stand steadily on her feet with all of the bindings and after sitting in such cramped quarters for so long, her body was stiff. As her captors pushed and dragged her into the king's villa, Freja wondered why they were not roughing her up more. She was a prisoner after all but perhaps their king did not want to receive his prisoner bruised and bloody.

Freja was ushered into a room that resembled a great hall except more ornate and covered in riches. Their were colourful tapestries and gold and silver seemed to gleam from every corner. The candlelight illuminated the large room. As she took in her surroundings, she was met by a middle aged man, dressed in finery with a golden crown atop his head. This is the king, she thought. He had blue eyes and they seemed to twinkle as he looked at her.

"Hello," the man with the neatly trimmed mustache and beard said, "My name is King Ecbert,"

"You speak my language?" Freja replied with a raised brow.

"I have studied some of your language, yes," he said before switching to English, "Just as you have learned my native tongue. Now tell me, are you the wife of Ragnar Lothbrok?"

Freja thought carefully before she spoke, "No I am not his wife; I am with his brother―not married but we are together,"

"Ahhh, that fierce beast of a man...my men told me of him and his prowess on the battlefield," the King explained, "I am told he fights like a crazy bear,"

"Enough of this talk, please tell me what you wish to do with me," she said. She was growing annoyed. Did he mean to have her killed?

"First, tell me your name," he demanded, "All of this talk you speak of and you still have not introduced yourself before a King,"

"My name is Freja," she replied stiffly.

"Now tell me, Freja, how is it that a woman from Scandinavia, such as yourself has come to learn our English language?"

"Back where I am from, we have an English priest called Athelstan, my Earl acquired him during a previous...visit...to England," Freja explained, "Him and I exchanged knowledge of our cultures,"

"Ah, from the Lindisfarne monastery in Northumbria?" he replied, "I had heard from King Ælle of that particular invasion from your people―so much treasure stolen, so many innocent lives taken in cold blood,"

"Yes," she replied, "Now, King Ecbert, I wish to know why you had me brought to you. Surely my people are looking for me and they will come for me...why am I here?"

"Well, Freja," the king said as he played with his beard, "Little did you all know, I had some of my people watching your camp for awhile now and I was told that you were the wife of Ragnar Lothbrok. It appears that they made an error but no matter, since you are with his brother, you are still a valuable guest of mine,"

"Guest," Freja seethed, "I believe you mean hostage?"

"No no no, my dear," he laughed, "I have no intention of keeping you prisoner here―you will be a guest at my villa. However, you will be heavily guarded. For your own protection, of course,"

"To what end?" she asked.

"I need you to serve as bait," he went on, "I wish to meet with Ragnar to discuss a truce. Considering him and his warriors killed so many of mine, I cannot initiate contact without leverage. But he must come here to my villa, unaccompanied,"

Freja chuckled, "Ragnar is no fool..."

King Ecbert held up his hand, "See, the plan is that you and I will ride together at first light. With protection, of course, and you will ask Ragnar to come with us so we can talk, man to man, and you will assure him that no harm will come to him whilst he is my guest,"

Freja rode on a grey and white spotted mare alongside King Ecbert who was on his proud white stallion, their horses were connected by a rope to ensure that she would not try to escape or run ahead. Behind them, was a fraction of the king's army prepared to fight the Northmen, should anything go wrong. The king looked over at the young woman riding beside him and studied her stony expression, eyes narrowed and fixed forward as her long ash brown hair blew in the wind. Her people's camp was just coming into view on the horizon, it was dawn and smoke was still in the air from the previous night's fires. The stench of death from the battle still clung in the air. Ecbert shouted to his army to stay behind as him and Freja rode forward, closer to the camp.

As they approached, Ragnar was emerging from his tent. His eyes met Freja's and with a single look he seemed to understand. He glanced around the camp and observed that nobody was awake yet, not even Floki. He picked up a nearby battle axe and walked toward Freja and her strange Saxon companion.

"I knew you were not dead," he said to Freja, ignoring the man next to her as if only she existed, "I told them all we would see you again,"

"Ragnar...this is King Ecbert of Wessex," she spoke slowly and clearly in their language, "He wishes no harm, only that you come peacefully, alone, to speak with him at his villa. He wishes to call a truce,"

King Ecbert smiled down at Ragnar, "Hello, Ragnar Lothbrok, a pleasure it is to finally meet you in the flesh,"

Ragnar ignored the king after looking him up and down, "Tell him I will go with him,"

"Tell him yourself," Freja replied, "You spend more time with Athelstan than I, you have knowledge of their language as well as I do,"

Ragnar chuckled, "Sometimes knowledge is best kept to oneself,"

Freja turned her attention to the king, "Ragnar will go with you," she made a move to dismount her horse.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ecbert said to her, "You are coming as well. Do not fret, you will both be free to go after I speak with your Earl and work out a deal that can benefit both of our people,"

Just then, more voices were heard throughout the camp and Freja spotted Björn and Floki walking hastily towards Ragnar. Björn demanded to know what was going on.

"Father. What is going on?" he said carefully, noting the Saxon army far in the distance.

"This is King Ecbert, he is king of this land," Ragnar explained, "He wants me to go and speak with him, call off the fighting and perhaps give us land here in England,"

Floki sneered. He did not care about a truce with the Christians, he just wanted to fight and bring home treasures as they did before, "Are you going to go with him, this king of Christians, Ragnar?"

"I am, yes," he replied. He looked to his left and saw his brother coming to see what the discussion was about.

Freja looked over at Rollo who was shirtless, clad only in leather pants. Once he saw her, his eyes went wide and then softened. She jumped off her mount, ignoring King Ecbert, and ran towards her lover. She jumped into Rollo's strong arms and he held her close to him, burying his face in her messy, windblown hair. After a moment, he placed his strong hands on her shoulders and his eyes bore into her, his gaze serious.

"Freja, what is this?" Rollo demanded, "I thought you were dead!"

"Rollo...I am so happy to be back with you...but I must go once more," she explained, "That man is King Ecbert and he wants to speak with your brother; he wants me to go too, to help the two of them communicate. I will go and they will make a deal between our people, and then Ragnar and I will both return,"

"You are not going anywhere," Rollo stated, "I do not trust these Christians or their king,"

"There is an army over the hill and people will die if we do not go peacefully," she replied, "Ragnar has already agreed,"

"My brother is a fool," he shook his head, "We can fight and kill them all,"

"That is not what we have come here for!" Freja exclaimed, "Ragnar has always dreamt of building a settlement here and farming the lands, Lagertha told me of this. King Ecbert is willing to grant him land in exchange for peace,"

"Then let him deal with this," he replied, "You are staying here with me,"

"Rollo, I am going," she grabbed his face and kissed him long and hard before breaking away and resting her forehead against his, "You must trust me. I swear it by the Gods, I will come back to you,"