AN: welcome to my second Rollo x Gisla fanfiction that should keep us occupied until February 18th 2016! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: the historical flaws (like her family members) are there for a reason... Also, this is fiction, not me writing a history essay. This is my fantasy :-)

Chapter one: Why am I here?

They were celebrating.

Both Viking men and women. They raided the city of Paris all day long, thanks to their king who managed to trick the Frankians into letting him receive a Christian burial.

Small detail, the Viking king was not dead. He jumped from the casket, abducted the youngest Frankian princess and managed to let his people inside of the Parisian walls.

That night almost everyone in the camp was celebrating their victory. Except for Ragnar who was dying and wanted to go home the next day. He got what he came for, he got inside the city. That was enough.

"I have an important task for you brother" Ragnar said as they walked to Rollo's tent.

"And what is that?" Rollo replied, quite tired after the long and successful day.

"I need you to safeguard something of great value for me. Something that will get us much more than just riches from this country".

Rollo smirked "You have my attention".

Ragnar opened the tent and walked his brother in.

Rollo's heart skipped several beats as he caught a first glimpse of her. His breath stuck somewhere down his throat in response to her image. A young woman, obviously royalty, tied to the wooden pole in the middle of his tent.

It was the young princess of Frankia. The woman who'd been the cause of him falling of the wall.

She refused to look at them, staring into the void with a stern look on her face.

Ragnar tapped Rollo on his back "Tomorrow I will go back to Kattegat. You chose to stay here in my place. This will give you something to negotiate for me. Keep her safe, especially from Kalf's men. No harm is to come to her. Will you do this for me?".

Rollo was still eyeing the young woman in the middle of the tent "Of course" he replied, a mere whisper.

"Good".

And with that, Ragnar left. Just like that. Leaving Rollo in his own tent, feeling a little lost. Not knowing what to do with the girl or himself for that matter. Which was ironic, because when he first saw her on the tower, her fierce posture provoked him greatly. He wanted to get to her, only to fall off a wall when her enthralling gaze met his eyes.

At first he wanted to believe it was their Christian magic which caused him to fall of the wall. But he knew all too well that it was something else. It was the realization of the seers prophecy.

Rollo slowly moved forward, towards her. Suddenly her eyes flew up to meet his impelling gaze. His heart jumped in his chest as her eyes met his from up close.

Angry eyes.

But also curious.

Rollo moved a little closer as he eyed her up and down. She was seated on the floor, her hands tied behind her back around the pole. The dress, her hair and simply everything about her told the story of her privileged birth. The crown had fallen off her head, lying next to her on the ground.

Gisla stared back at him with the same penetrating eyes, not willing to back down for a heathen. She recognized the man who climbed the ladder, slaying several knights at once with one swing of his ax. The great warrior, who fought like a crazy bear. The man who spiked their machine on the bridge. So this was what he looked like up close.

Interesting. And slightly less brutal than in battle.

He was very tall and broad, a lot bigger than any man she'd ever seen in Frankia. His hair was long and his beard was also a lot fuller than what she was used to. She suddenly understood why her Frankian knights lost the battle even though they outnumbered the men from the North.

He was intimidating.

Although, at the same time he appeared less scary without an ax in his hand. Now he was just a man. A very big man though. She continued to look at him. His eyes had an intriguing sparkle to them, almost kind and peaceful. They showed the opposite of her own feelings right now.

Rollo moved even closer and knelt down in front of her, never breaking away from her penetrating gaze.

He watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed slowly. His body reacted to hers. He wondered if she was nervous, or perhaps afraid of him. If she was, she certainly was a master at hiding it. Her body language gave away absolutely nothing. As if she was made of ice.

He noticed several cuts around her throat, shallow ones, but still covered in dried up blood. Probably caused by the knife his brother held against her throat when he made his way out of the castle.

Rollo leaned forward, carefully reaching out for her chin to inspect her more closely. For a moment he thought her breathing exhilarated, but she quickly steadied herself. Or perhaps it was just his imagination. He reached for the bowl of water and cloth next to her as he slowly dabbed the blood around her neck.

She tried to shoo away from him, dodge his hands, but she was tied to a pole. She shivered at his touch, surprised by the gentleness in his warrior hands.

"What is your name?" he suddenly asked. She did not reply.

Rollo tried again, this time in the Anglo-Saxon language. He believed he saw her flinch, make eye contact for a mere second as if she understood him this time. But she still did not reply.

"Never mind" he sighed "You probably do not understand a word I am saying".

Gisla was still pressing her back into the wooden pole, trying to avoid his gentle touch somehow, or at least show him that she did not appreciate his Pagan hands on her. Even if it was to clean her wounds.

He looked around, down at her wrists. She was so small, she had nowhere to go and was probably sore from sitting here all day. There was no reason to keep her tied up. He moved his hands around her, this time he clearly heard her inhale sharply.

"Settle down" he murmured "I will not hurt you".

Whatever he was saying, his voice sounded gentle, with a kindness to it which annoyed her.

He carefully cut through the ropes and half expected her to attack him as soon as she was loose. But she did no such thing. Gisla slowly brought both her wrists forward and rubbed them carefully. She almost opened her mouth to thank him, but bit her tongue just in time. She slowly arched her back as she stretched her muscles. For a moment, his eyes lingered on her chest, but the princess did not notice. She was truly very sore from sitting here all day. Her arms, back and legs hurting and partially numb. She exhaled slowly as she felt the blood run through freely again, finally able to use her arm muscles.

Rollo got up again, looking down at her as she eyed his every move. Like a deer, eyeing her predator. The young woman from the tower. The princess who made him believe he understood the seers prophecy. He walked towards the tent's exit and called in Sinric.

The wanderer was shocked when he saw the youngest princess of Frankia sitting on the ground in Rollo's tent.

"I need you to translate for me" Rollo simply stated "Ask her name".

Sinric did as Rollo told him but Gisla refused to answer.

"Why is she not saying anything? You speak Frankian, do you not wanderer?".

"Of course!" Sinric replied a little nervous "And she most likely speaks the Anglo-Saxon language. But she has no desire to speak with you I suspect".

Rollo sighed. Wonderful start.

"She is princess Gisla of Frankia" Sinric explained "She does not need to tell me this, I am from this country. She is the youngest daughter of Emperor Charles III. She has an older sister named Adelais and two older brothers. Her oldest brother is prince Louis of Frankia, heir to the throne".

Gisla angrily avoided all eye contact with both men, staring into the void instead. Perhaps it would anger the Viking warrior that she refused to speak with him.

"Tell her that I am not going to hurt her. And tell her that she cannot go anywhere, this camp is surrounded by my men and she will have to stay in this tent for a while".

As Sinric translated to the princess, Rollo watched her eyes fill up with blazing anger.

"Why am I here?" she suddenly snapped Sinric.

Rollo was surprised at the sound of her voice, it made it all the more real that she was actually inside his tent and under his control for now. He could not help but enjoy it a little. He'd been intrigued with the woman since the first time he saw her, and now she was in his tent, alone with him. How could he not enjoy it?

"She wishes to know why she is here".

Rollo explained that his brother the king wished to use her in the upcoming negotiations with Frankia and that she would be safe inside his tent, as long as she stayed inside. It would probably take no longer than a few days. Sinric translated every word but Gisla no longer replied. Rollo walked Sinric out, thanked him and told him that he would need his services more often the upcoming days.

Sinric shook his head and smiled "She is a princess Rollo, an educated woman. She speaks the Anglo-Saxon language".

Rollo frowned "She does?".

"Of course she does. Even you and I speak it. But I suspect she has no desire to speak with you. Do not expect to find a pleasant conversation partner in her".

Rollo laughed, tapped Sinric on the back and lead him out of the tent.

When he came back into the tent, everything happened so fast, it was no more than a flash. The young woman stood on the other side of his tent, a blade in her hands. Her eyes were blazing as she brought the blade up to her chest with clear intentions of ramming it inside herself.

"NO!".

Rollo dived forward, straight into her small physique. He brought her to the ground with a loud thud, the knife disappearing somewhere on the floor. She grunted in pain and irritation of her plan going wrong.

It took Rollo a few seconds to realize he was still lying on top of her, breathing heavily as he looked down at her tempting face. It sunk into him what had just happened. Gisla lay frozen on the ground underneath him, she turned her face to the side with a look of pure anger.

Rollo growled as he got off of her, pulling her to her feet in the process.

Wonderful. A short time in, and the object of his desire had already tried to kill herself.

Rollo grabbed her upper arm a little roughly as he walked her over to the pole again, putting her down on the ground.

"You" he pointed at her "Stay there!" he spoke in Anglo-Saxon, not sure if she understood, but his body language must have been clear enough.

The next few minutes Rollo strolled throughout his tent, removing all sharp objects except for the weapons he had on him.

Gisla still refused to speak as he moved through his tent, cursing and mumbling on about what on earth she was thinking.

When he was done gathering every single sharp object, he left the tent, leaving Gisla to think about her possible next step. When he came back later, he was carrying water and food.

"Life lesson" he suddenly spoke as he knelt down in front of her "When you get captured and manage to get your hands on a weapon, you kill your captor, and not yourself".

As if I could have escaped, you dumb brute. And I was not going to kill myself, you fool.

Rollo sighed, she remained silent.

He put the water and bread in front of her "You must be hungry, or at least thirsty".

She looked at it with disgust.

"It is not poisoned" he pressed her as he demonstrated his good intent by breaking a piece of bread and eating it "Neither is the water".

Rollo drank from the bowl.

Now I will definitely not drink from it.

Gisla wondered why he tried to speak with her so desperately. His understanding of the Anglo-Saxon tongue was quite good. But why would they have to speak at all?

Rollo sighed as Gisla still refused to speak or even move, let along eat or drink.

He looked at her intently. Trying a different, more kind, method now "I understand that you are afraid. But you are not here to get hurt princess. You are in no danger. There is no need to take your own life" he sighed "So please eat and drink".

She scoffed arrogantly and suddenly a small and haughty smile played around her lips.

"Afraid?" she asked with much disdain. Gisla clenched her teeth together, his words had provoked her and wounded her pride. How dare this Northman assume that she was afraid of him. She was a princess of the blood and nothing he could do to her, would scare her.

His head had snapped up as she finally spoke, eyeing her intently in hope for more words.

"You think that I would take my own life because… I am afraid?" she sounded even more furious now, her voice was soft and he had obviously insulted her by assuming she feared him "I merely tried to wound myself for the same reasons that I will not eat your food or drink your water. Because I do not want you to have something to negotiate with. Because you have already received so much that does not belong to you" Gisla leaned forward angrily as she narrowed her eyes at him "A wounded princess is no good to you warrior. A hurt and weakened princess will enrage the people of Frankia, it will give them exactly what they need to destroy you: rage and fury to avenge their martyred princess".

He listened to her voice and enjoyed it so intensely, that it took a few seconds for him to understand the content of what she just said.

Rollo offered her the food again "You might as well eat and drink princess, for you will not be able to starve or hurt yourself".

"You will have to force it down my throat then" she snapped.

"Gladly" he replied amusingly as he scoffed out another laugh, by the Gods this girl was feisty "But trust me, it will be in vain" he continued "In a mere few days you will be out of here and back in your comfortable castle. Because you are leverage, and not to be harmed. There will be negotiations with your father, and I will safely return you to him".

Gisla sighed as she leaned back against the pole. Rollo held out the food once more. She rolled her eyes and accepted his offer.

That night she tried to escape. Against her better judgement but she simply had to try. This time not by killing herself, but an actual escape through the back of the tent. The Viking warriors seemed to be celebrating outside, again. They were loud and there were big fires around which they danced all night. She hoped the Pagans would be distracted and drunk enough to never notice her small physique escaping into the woods.

It was a rash and almost dumb idea. If only she had a little more time, she could have planned it. But she had to try. She never expected it to work. And she was right because it did not.

Within two seconds after she left the tent, she found herself tackled to the ground, looking up at the face of her least favorite host.

"Going somewhere princess?" Rollo smirked down at her "Not without an escort surely? Unless of course… this was meant to be an escape?".

She growled and tried to move out from under him "Get off me you dog" she hissed.

He chuckled as he moved up, grabbed her arm and pulled her up. He walked her back inside. She instantly jerked her arm loose as she walked over to the pole where she sat down angrily.

"Now why would you try to escape, when I just promised that within days you will be back home?"

"I thought you would be celebrating. Too drunk to notice me" she grumbled "I had to try".

Rollo laughed as he walked towards her "I admire your willfulness and courage. But I never stopped watching you" he knelt in front of her, gripping her chin as he forced her to look at him "You cannot escape me" he whispered darkly as he thought about the prophecy again.

It was her. It had to be. He truly wanted it to be her…

Gisla did not reply, she simply stared at him. She was not afraid of him but something about the way her body reacted to him being close, made her feel extremely uneasy and slightly ashamed.

Rollo picked up a long rope as he grabbed her wrists and tied the rope around them.

"I am sorry for this" he said as he locked eyes with her.

She pressed her lips together "Yes, I can tell how sorry you are".

He smirked as he slowly licked his lips, she was quite… tempting.

"Princess, if only there was another way to make sure you would not disappear like a thief in the night while I sleep peacefully" he smirked as he imagined pressing his body against hers on the make shift bed as they slept together.

She glared at him darkly, her lips mere inches away from his warm breath "I will have your head for this Northman".

"Let us not start threatening each other" he smirked at her lustfully "It makes the night so much more unpleasant than it can be".

She bit her lip nervously as she tried to look away, taunting this man would probably not be wise.

Once the rope was tied around her wrists, he tied it around his own wrist in such a way that she could still move around the entire tent, but he would wake up if she tried to escape.

Then Rollo gestured towards his make shift bed "Go to sleep".

Her eyes grew big "Are you mad?" she gasped in angry shock "I will not sleep next to you!".

He frowned "I am not asking you. Unless that is what you want of course" the mischief was back in his eyes.

Gisla wisely ignored his last comment. How dare he…

"I will sleep on the floor" he explained "Something you are most likely not accustomed to. Therefore you may sleep on the bed".

Gisla defiantly crossed her arms in front of her chest "I am not tired".

He sighed "Go to sleep princess".

"You do not command me Pagan".

Rollo threw his head back and laughed, this young woman… was a challenge at least.

She squeaked when the big warrior swiftly moved his arm around her waist, pressing her flush against him "You can either go to sleep right now, in my bed, with me on the floor" he whispered dangerously close to her face "Or I will pin you down on the bed, and keep you there. I know what I prefer, but unfortunately it is your choice".

"Remove your hands" she only just managed to reply as his breath still caressed her face..

"Are you tired now, your highness?" he smirked.

Gisla swallowed hard "Yes".

"Good" he replied, suddenly removing his hands from her body, leaving a warm imprint that almost caused her to feel the loss of his touch. Gisla cursed herself for it.

For a moment there was clear doubt and confusion in her eyes as she strolled a little closer towards to bed, still looking at him, wondering why on earth he would do her such kindness.

She carefully moved the animal furs back and stepped into the bed. It smelled a little strange, different than what she was used to but certainly not unpleasant. As she put down her head, she realized the bed smelled of him, obviously. She flushed and turned around. This was highly inappropriate but she could not possibly sleep on the floor if she'd expected to get any sleep at all.

"Sweet dreams princess. If you are lucky, I'll have you home within two days".

Gisla did not reply as she closed her eyes. He was a lot kinder than she'd imagined and it almost made her feel shameful of her prejudice against him.

She stood in the opening of the tent that morning, watching them. At first it was the commotion that woke he, after which she found out almost half of the Northmen were entering their boats, rowing off towards wherever they came from. She noticed their king, the brother of her captor, was also leaving. He still did not look very well and she would not be surprised if he'd actually die soon.

Good.

After they left, everything settled down again as men and women both went about their business. She watched him, her captor, as he trained the warriors in the middle of a fighting pit. They trained with real weapons, which made her wonder if they ever got hurt during a training. Judging by the armor most of them did not wear, it probably happened quite a lot. Or perhaps training without armor and with real weapons created a more realistic environment of battle. Perhaps it caused them to try harder, because there was no safety net.

"Good morning princess" his voice suddenly brought her back to reality "I trust you have slept well your highness?".

Her head snapped into his direction, she instantly noticed he was not wearing a shirt and it caused her temperature to rise as she blushed. He truly should not be walking around like that, especially not around her, as she was royalty. It clearly showed the lack of manners in this savage.

He smirked contently when he noticed her reaction to him "What are you doing?" he tried again to speak with her.

She narrowed her eyes at him with a familiar blazing anger as she disguised her discomfort that his shirtless body made her experience "I am imagining your alluring face on a pike" she replied with a smirk "Because that is what will happen to you once we defeat your army of pigs and dogs".

Rollo smirked, she amused him greatly "You flatter me your highness, you truly believe my head to be that alluring?".

She rolled her eyes as she turned her head away. Leave it to this arrogant brute to only extract a compliment from her threats. Gisla continued to watch the warriors train, she had to admit it was intriguing and while she was here, she may as well get some insight on their techniques.

"You are watching me and my warriors fight" he stated "Are you impressed?".

"Hardly".

Rollo smirked, although he had genuinely hoped for a different answer. Even though he knew she lied. He wished for her to admit how impressed she truly was, for he trained these men himself. They were his closest and most trusted chieftains. Not only did he train them himself, he was their leader because of the simple fact that out of all of them, he was the greatest warrior and he knew it.

"I have an offer for you" he stated determinedly.

"I am not interested".

"Hear me out. If you can defeat one of my men in a fight without weapons, you are free to go".

Her eyes grew big as she turned around to look at him. Was he actually serious? His eyes told her that he was not. He was mocking her clearly.

"No weapons, first person on the ground loses" he explained further.

She continued to stare at him. He was making a fool of her. There was no other explanation. He thought that because she was a woman, little and had no fighting experience, she would be humiliated, or deny this challenge and simply accept her fate to be a sacrificial lamb in this war. Used as bait for negotiations. In order for these Northmen to receive even more than they already had. Even more on top of what they were not entitled to in the first place.

He smirked down at her in silence, he knew she would not accept.

Rollo turned around, but just before he walked off, her quiet voice pulled him back.

"I accept".

AN: hope you enjoyed it, if so, please let me know :-D