My apologies for lack of updates, my bipolar has been bad and I am doing my best to get back into writing. I hope you enjoy this.

Halfdan stumbled out of the tent, the celebrations for the days victory had finally come to an end; but instead of making his way to his own place to sleep, he staggered to the tent where he and his brother had left the berserker. He hadn't been able to think about anything but the woman that had been protected by Huginn and Muninn, the younger brother of Harald not sure why Odin would send his own ravens to protect this particular creature; but he had, and for his brother's sake, Halfdan knew that he had to tread much more lightly with this woman than he normally would. That despite what she had done, who she had killed on the battlefield that day, even as his new slave she would have more power than he would like.

Finally, he got to the tent, the feared Northman pushing away the straggly, dirty blonde hair way from his face, only to have it fall back over his eyes, before he pushed his way through the heavy canvas. The moon was bright and high in the sky, the silver orb brilliant enough to light the interior of the tent. Halfdan's eyes widening, as he saw that the berserker was now awake, and leaning against the pole to which she was still chained; the two ravens hopping forward and eyeing him menacingly, as the opening closed behind him. The cawing of the birds ominous and eerie, when paired with the darkness of the berserkers smile as she looked to him.

Despite his reputation for taking great delight in torturing and killing his enemies, Halfdan doubted that this woman was afraid of him. Without the huge bearskin covering her form she looked smaller than she had on the battlefield; but she was still quite formidable, the once bright crimson streaks of blood that ran down her cheeks, now appearing as dark as the remnants of mud that covered her skin and matted her hair. It was still hard to see her true visage under what was left of the battle, yet Halfdan had promised himself that as soon as he could get her cleaned up, he would. The younger son of Halfdan the Elder desperately wanting to see what the allfather was protecting. Wondering whether she possessed some unearthly kind of beauty that had captured the eye of the great god.

"What's your name.............?" Halfdan enquired harshly, pointing his sword in her direction, as the three creatures continued to eye him. The berserkers smile growing broader, yet no words left her lips.

"I should kill you.............." The blonde continued with a heavy slur. That dark smile turning into an even darker laugh, as the female berserker struggled to her feet. The chains that clung to her neck, wrists and ankles just heavy and short enough, to ensure that the vicious fighter couldn't get to him; yet that didn't mean that she couldn't gesture, the woman beckoning for him to come for her. Halfdan growling under his breath as he took a step closer, only to find the same flurry of darkness that had stopped his brother from taking her head, now stopped him. Black wings blocking the light, as claws and beaks cut at his skin. The blonde falling unceremoniously backwards out of the tent and into the puddle of mud, as the birds continued to taunt the drunk man; as they continued to attack him. Halfdan unable to do anything but retreat, as the mocking caws of the ravens and the scornful laughter of the woman filled the air.

                                                    >>-----------------------------------<<

Halfdan groaned, as he reluctantly opened his eyes. The celebrations had gone on long into the night, and the mead had flowed more than freely. The last thing that he could remember was leaving the tent where he, Harald and the others had been enjoying the night; he had stumbled to the place where the berserker was being kept, and then.............then he had to admit that it was a bit of a blur; though given that his clothes were covered in mud and black feathers, and the skin on his hand was bloody and scratched, he presumed that he had been to see the berserker. The blonde slowly getting out of his makeshift bed. Halfdan nearly falling back into it, as his brother pushed his way into the tent.

"Har..................?"

"You need to come. Now!" Harald interjected, Halfdan grabbing for his sword, as his older brother left the tent as quickly as he had arrived. The blonde stumbling out to find Harald making his way over to where the berserker probably slept. His brows furrowing as his brother opened the flap of canvas and gestured for him to enter. Halfdan amazed to see the female berserker looking at him, two dead men at her feet; their eyes plucked out by the ravens that sat on either of her shoulders.

"I sent them in to check on her not too long ago; when they didn't come back..............I found them like this..............." Harald explained; the man that would be the king of all Norway reluctantly having to admit that he was impressed that she had been able to seemingly kill the men so easily. That even though she was still bound by all the chains, she had taken two more of his warriors. Finehair watching the berserker as she just looked up at his brother, who he finally realised was covered in cuts and scratches, his hair and clothes thick with mud. It obvious that Halfdan had also made a trip to see the woman; though why she had not killed him when she had the chance, he couldn't understand.

"What do you want to do with her................?"

"I told you............she is going to be my slave, whether she likes it or not. But first...............she needs a bath..................."