Ragnar, their leader, a man as handsome and bold as Gannicus, proudly claimed her as his one prize -- though he did not call her "thrall" or put a rope around her neck -- when their sly snake of an Earl cheated them of rest their treasure.

"Trust me," Ragnar spoke under his breath, when Saxa first saw his wife, a blonde woman (hair even more flaxen than Saxa's) with eyes like a hawk's, named Lagertha. "Trust me," he repeated, before scooping Lagertha up in his arms, heading into his hall, and shutting the door behind him, leaving Saxa with his children ... who had too many questions. She stumbled over the words (damn this language of theirs! almost like Englisc, but just different enough to trip you up like a dog underfoot on a dark night) as she listened to the sound of them fucking.

Then, later, that night, after the children had gone to bed, they came to her and asked a question.

They didn't have to ask twice, or ever again, actually.

When summer came again, Ragnar only reluctantly went a-viking.

And Lagertha? Well, these were uncertain times, and the Earl (and his toadies) were not to be trusted. The stedding needed two shieldmaidens to defend it until Ragnar's return.

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(Sorry this isn't more porny, but it would be "ikea erotica" if I tried to do that right now.)