A/N: This is NOT cannon. It is my own take on the characters and not historically accurate. Note, may be different in this story than the show.

1

MIA

December 21st, 2013

Bergen, Norway

Mia sat in a dusty library, desperately wondering where her instructor was. It was the end of her first semester studying abroad, and she was getting anxious to leave for winter break. The smell of old, worn books permeated the large library. She'd spent countless hours studying in different libraries and universities, but this one was by far her favorite. It wasn't elaborate or over-the-top, but it was peaceful. Peace was something she hadn't had in a long time, with her troubling family life. The soft sound of pages turning, and the occasional foot shuffle kept her attention focused on her work. While visiting Greece, she was overwhelmed with the number of other students studying abroad, or the tourists seeking to read about the country's history. Norway was much different, and it was her favorite location of the semester. Being a senior in college, she would be graduating in the spring with a bachelor's of history, specializing in mythology. She had worked hard to achieve her goals, and was bittersweet about her schooling coming to an end within the year.

She thrived off history. It was her passion, and something that nobody could take away from her. As a little girl, she'd always borrowed her brother's textbooks to read. He didn't mind, but her father thought it odd that a little girl wanted to read about the revolutionary war instead of fairytales with princesses or magic. It didn't bother her in the slightest, in fact, she'd enjoyed more than just textbooks. When they had cable, she was constantly watching the history channel. It was her escape, to a time different from her own.

Thoughts torn from her childhood, she looked up to see the small clock on the wall. Her instructor, Samuel, was late. He was supposed to meet her at the library to escort her back to the hotel. Picking up her cellphone, she saw that her friend, and classmate, texted her.

Julie: Hey, Samuel's running late. We hit some traffic. Be there soon!

While she was relieved that she still had her ride, she was slightly annoyed that she was left waiting. She was starting to get hungry, and couldn't stop thinking about where they were going to eat. Sighing and pulling her blonde hair behind her ear, she got up and started to wander around the library. There were aisles of books, many of them on historical events of Norway's past. Browsing aimlessly through the aisles to kill time, she found a section towards the back that looked to be less maintained than the rest. Or, at the very least it was less popular. Signs of dust were evident on the wooden shelves, and Mia wondered why that section was not as busy. As she walked down the aisle, her soft green eyes tried to read the titles. Many of the books were not written in English, at least the titles displayed on the spines of the books indicated so. Some looked older than others, and a few even looked like they had leather covers.

One book in particular seemed to catch her attention. Upon a closer look, it was an old, leather-bound book with Norse writing on the spine. Ever the history fan, she picked it up to further inspect it. The book looked very old, and she partly wondered why it wasn't stored in a more protected area of the library. Such a book in any library in Greece had its own security to protect it from theft. Maybe it wasn't that important?

Opening to a random page, she saw paragraphs of Norse text, handwritten. It was extraordinary. As she carefully paged through, she saw various drawings of villages, and one man sitting on a throne. Tilting her head to the side, she faintly recognized the picture, but couldn't place the memory. She'd looked at so many pictures throughout her years as a student, they sometimes faded together. Just as she was about to close the book and continue her walk, it started to shake. It felt like her hands were suddenly super glued to the book, and she couldn't let go. The shaking sensation increased, and it traveled up her arms to her shoulders. Before she was able to let out a scream for help, her body was thrown into the page she'd had open. Falling to the ground, the book shut itself. Everyone present in the library hadn't even turned a head at the disappearance of the American college student.

Mia could feel her fingers moving, and was able to wiggle her toes. Her eyes remained closed, and she was having a tough time coming to. Panic started to surface, causing her start breathing more rapid. Her pulse increased, and her movements became twitchy. She was cold, that much she knew. Where she was, she had absolutely no idea. Her first thought was that she was kidnapped, stolen from a library of all places. Finally, able to open her eyes, she saw a white sky. A snowflake landed on her face and she blinked. That's why she was cold.

Sitting up, she found herself in the middle of the woods with nothing but her jeans, button up flannel and tank top. Her feet were protected by her tall boots. The rest of her body was unprotected, and cold. She started to shiver, rubbing her arms in attempt at warmth. Shakily standing to her feet, she looked around hoping to see the town. Plucked from civilization, it appeared she had been dumped in the woods without a soul in sight. At least, she thought she was alone. Grabbing her cell phone from her pocket, she saw she had no service. Of course, she had no service. Isn't that how it always went? Briefly, she tried moving the phone around to find service, but not even a single bar shown on the touchscreen.

Taking a few steps, she felt how weak her legs were. How long had she been out in the cold? Her fingers were so cold, as were her toes. Yes, she had boots on, but they were fashion boots. They weren't very effective when it came to freezing weather. Watching the snow fall around her, she grew even more confused. It wasn't snowing in the morning when she left for the library. Holding back tears, she realized she was all alone. She was in a foreign country and had no idea where she was. Sniffling just once, she set her shoulders back and decided to start walking. Standing still in the forest crying wasn't going to do anything to help her.

Pressing forward, she made her way through the trees until she found a small shelter of bushes. Deciding she deserved a break from the searing wind, she sat down on a fallen tree trunk just in front of the greenery. She pulled out her cellphone just once more, figuring it was worth a try to call for help. Still no service. She put it away after turning it off, deciding that she may need to save the battery in case she did find somewhere more populated and needed to call for help.

Her breathing heavy, she looked around at the trees. She felt utterly alone, and for the first time, she wished that she was back at the crowded library in Greece. Fear of being lost in the woods and freezing to death started to seep in. Her thoughts weren't able to get too carried away, as she suddenly heard a branch break in the distance. Snapping her head to the right, she saw a man. At first, she stood up filled with joy. "Hey!" she called in hopes that he could help her. "I seem to be lost, can you help me?" she asked in what she hoped was a kind, yet desperate, voice. He didn't respond to her, and worry started to creep up her spine. Everyone she'd met in Norway thus far was very kind. Maybe she'd ventured too far away from the city, and therefore away from the tourist-friendly people. Each step this man took towards her, the more mean and dangerous he looked.

She started to back away, and took a few steps backwards only to trip on a tree root. "Please," she said holding up a hand. The man frowned and kept moving towards her. He said something in a different language. She couldn't understand what he was saying, and she assumed he was in the same situation. She held her hands up in what would be known as a universal sign of surrender. It didn't faze him as he came closer. His hair was very long for a man, and was deep brown in color. Facial hair covered the lower half of his face, and his eyes were stern. He wore animal furs, and had odd looking clothing. What in the world was going on? She started to have a panic attack. In the past, she'd had them every few months as a teenager. Her family life had been the cause of most of those panic attacks, but she recognized the feeling. Now, she was on the ground with no way to defend herself as some crazy man was inching closer and closer to her. She really started to hyperventilate once she noticed the axe he held in his right hand. It didn't take long after that for her to pass out. Before her eyes closed, she saw the man rushing towards her.

RAGNAR

Kattegat

Ever since Lagertha was killed in battle, Ragnar had immersed himself in bettering his kingdom. As a king, he was expected to have an heir. Despite losing a precious daughter to illness, and his wife to war, he still had his son, Björn. His son and the future of Kattegat were his life, his legacy. His son, now 10 years old, was growing quickly before his eyes. Soon he would be a man, and Ragnar had been working hard to prepare him.

As he watched his son eat at the nearby table, Ragnar thought back ten years prior when Björn came into the world. He was only 18 when his son was born, and now over a decade later, he held so much more wisdom than back then. He only hoped he would be able to pass this knowledge on to his son. He'd drilled the mantra of "Fight with your head, not your heart," over and over again into his son's mind. Knowledge was much more useful than pride when it came to battle and politics.

As he took a sip from his horn of ale, his thoughts were interrupted when Rollo burst through the doors. He was carrying what appeared to be a young woman in his arms. Björn stood up and ran to greet his uncle. "Björn, go get Siggy," Rollo instructed. The boy nodded and frantically ran out of the long house.

"Brother, what is it you bring me?" Ragnar said with widened eyes and a curious expression.

"I wish I knew, but it is still a mystery to me."

"What do you mean?" Ragnar approached his brother as the woman was set down onto the table. "Who is she? Why does she wear such strange clothes?"

"I do not know. I found her in the woods, south of here." Ragnar took a closer look, and set his horn of ale down on the table. The woman before him was very strange. She had odd, fitted pants on, with tall boots. Her shirt was very soft, and had an unfamiliar colored pattern in the shape of squares. He looked up to see Rollo looking at the girl curiously.

"She is not from here, that much is clear," he concluded. For the time being, he did not want his people learning of such news. Until they further understood who she was, and why she was there, he needed her kept secret.

"When I found her in the forest she seemed scared. I think she was lost, and can't see her meaning any harm. Either way, she is a stranger. She did not speak our language."

"Keep this between us, brother. We do not need everyone creating elaborate stories about the strange girl with barely any clothing."

"Agreed." Siggy came through the door at that moment.

"What is wrong?" she questioned.

"It appears we have a guest. A little lost lamb, if you would," Ragnar provided. Siggy took one look at the woman dressed in unfamiliar clothing, and noted the color of her hands and face.

"She is cold. We need some hot water, cloths, and blankets," she started to instruct. Björn had followed her back and began grabbing the distinct items she'd listed.

"Siggy, Björn," Ragnar started, "News of this woman's arrival does not leave us four. Nobody is to know she is here, understood?" They nodded in agreement at his request.

"Is there something you're not telling us, father?"

"No, nothing of the sort. With all that has happened with venturing to England, I don't want our people to get the wrong idea. You never know what kind of stories they will cook up. Let us get her dressed in regular clothing, and have her appear a visitor from this land." Rollo, Siggy, and Björn nodded. Ragnar reached forward, lifting the unconscious girl into his arms. He brought her back to his sleeping quarters and rested her form on the bed covered in furs. Siggy immediately followed and began to tend to the woman. Ragnar stood up, looking at his son. "Björn, go finish up your food and keep your uncle company." The boy obliged and left Ragnar and Siggy in the room with the unconscious woman.

Ragnar stood staring as Siggy tended to her, and saw she started to remove the woman's clothes. With his hand twitching at his side, he rolled his eyes and swiftly turned around. Making his way towards a trunk in the corner of the large room, he opened it forcefully. Grabbing what he needed, he made his way back over to Siggy. "Here," he said and set a set of clothing down on the bed.

Siggy eyed the clothing with a sad expression. She knew it was Lagertha's clothes, and he had held on to them even after her passing. They both knew that if the citizens of Kattegat saw this woman wandering around in foreign clothes, they would start to ask questions. It was sure to cause an uprising of concern among the people to think there were foreigners roaming through their lands. Dressing her as one of them was the safest plan. He idly wondered what Lagertha would have thought of such a girl wearing her clothes. Focusing at the task at hand, he saw that Siggy had things under control. He abruptly left his room and headed out to the long hall where his son and brother sat eating.

"So, where did you find our lost lamb?" he questioned.

"She was southeast of here. Near the hunting grounds."

"What language did she speak?"

"I am not sure. She didn't say much. She seemed scared, like I told you." Rollo appeared to be tired of Ragnar's questions.

"Hmm."

"Maybe she was sent from the gods," Björn offered through a mouthful of food.

"Yes, maybe," Ragnar smiled at his son.

A few hours later, the long house was filled with citizens drinking and eating near the comfort of the large fire. Ragnar stayed in the long house, not wanting to venture too far from his new house guest. Part of him worried she'd wake and start screaming. That definitely wouldn't help keep her a secret from everyone. Björn had gone to play with his friend, and Rollo was enjoying ale with Floki. Sitting on his lonely throne, Ragnar spotted Siggy approaching him. "I am going to return home for a few hours. If you'd like I can return once she's woken."

"I will send Björn if needed," he quickly dismissed her. Not taking any chances, he rose from the throne and made his way to a bucket of ale. After filling his horn, he waltzed to his living quarters. The woman's belongings were folded and placed on the table there, and he noticed a small black object. It was shiny and smooth, but not soft. It had a reflective side to it, with a picture of a half-eaten fruit on the back. Holding and inspecting the black object, he looked between it and the woman for a few minutes. Where was she from? Why did she have such strange things? Even on his ventures to England he'd never seen such odd clothing or items before. He was torn between worry for what her intentions were, and curiosity for what he could learn from her. He set the black object down on top of her folded clothing.

Grabbing a nearby chair, he moved it to the bedside, and sat down. He didn't feel right sleeping in his bed with her unconscious next to him, so instead he was standing, or rather sitting, watch. Björn was ever faithful at refilling his ale for him, and three horns in she finally started to stir. His eyes snapped to her hand that had started twitching. It didn't take long for her to fully come to, but when she did it was not what he expected.