I have had a request for a book on The Last Kingdom; again, I was wondering how many of you might be interested?

Two full cycles of the moon had passed since (Y/n) had gone. The day after the feast, Floki and Helga had awoken to find their Odin given child, gone, along with her weapons and some other possessions. Floki had raced from the cabin, calling out his daughter's name, to no avail. He had gone and found the older sons of Ragnar, informing them of the foundling's disappearance; Ubbe and Hvitserk looking at one another as they listened to the worried father. His usual laughter and mirth nowhere to be found, as he asked the two if they knew where (Y/n) could be. Ubbe explaining about the night and how it had ended; about what Ivar had said, and that they hadn't seen her since she had left the great hall.

For days they had searched for the foundling, even Sigurd had done his part. Yet Ivar was nowhere to be seen; not wanting to talk to anyone, just holing himself up in the cabin, refusing to speak about (Y/n) or the events of that evening. No one having laid eyes on him since they discovered she was gone. And now, after each and every disappointment of searching far and wide for (Y/n) and not finding her; Floki and Helga had begun to think that they would never see her again. No one having to ask whom everyone blamed for the loss of the beautiful shieldmaiden. Kattegat not feeling quite the same now that she was gone. Even the weather had turned for the worse. The rain never ceasing and Thor lighting up the skies with his anger, since the search for the foundling had stopped.

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(Y/n) looked out of the small window of the little cabin that she had come across, after a few days of travelling. It was raining again, as the day once more turned into night; in fact, it hadn't seemed to have stopped raining since she found the place. She had planned on moving on after one or two days; planned on hunting, resting, before she made her way to the next place, before getting ever further away from Kategatt. But whenever she tried, the rain would fall harder, and Thor would become angry; the sound of thunder and the crack of lightening almost deafening at some points. The foundling beginning to think that even the gods might have come to hate her, just like Ivar had.

Slowly, she made her way back to the fire, stirring the stew in the old pot that had been covered in cobwebs when she had found the place. There wasn't much left; she had been able to kill a couple of rabbits days before, and what was remaining would only be enough for tonight, so she hoped that the rain would stop long enough, so that she could find something more; but that would all depend on the gods.

Suddenly, there was a banging at the door; (Y/n) quickly reaching for her sword. If someone from home had found her, she would tell them to leave, that they should forget about her; and if it was someone else, then they might find that they had knocked on the wrong door.

Slowly she made her way to the ingress, (Y/n) jumping slightly, as the door shook with yet another bang. The foundling reaching for the handle and throwing open the old wood, a bundle of soaked rags looking back her.

"What do you want..............?" (Y/n) demanded to know. The foundling taking a step back, as the bundle removed its hood to reveal an old man. An old man with only one eye.

"Shelter............just shelter from the rain................." The old man replied with a smile, as the rain suddenly began to fall even harder. (Y/n) quickly helping him inside and closing the door, as Thor once more became angered.

"You should take some of those wet clothes off." The foundling said, as she made her way to stoke the fire, throwing one of the precious dry logs onto it, to warm the old soul.

"Something smells good.........." The old man continued, as he pulled off the wet furs and woollen cloaks that covered him.

"Its just rabbit; but if you take a seat, I'll give you some." (Y/n) explained, giving the old man a small smile, before pointing to the little rickety table that sat against the wall. The old man nodding in thanks, before going and taking a seat.

(Y/n) placed her sword to the floor; if this old man had been anyone else, she would have run them off. But her father had taught her never to turn away those that were in need of help or shelter. That the gods would sometimes take human form and appear to people as a test; and if this was a test, then she had to pass. The foundling well aware that she needed all the help that she could get at the moment.

"Thank you." The old man said, as she placed a dish filled with the last of her food in front of him.

"Won't you join me...........?" He continued, gesturing to the chair across from him. (Y/n) nodding before taking a seat.

"Now...........what is a pretty thing like you doing out here, in the middle of nowhere, all alone.............?" He enquired, before taking a spoonful of the food; an appreciative sigh leaving his lips. (Y/n) finding that despite herself, she could do nothing but tell him.

"I come from a place called Kattegat. I............I ran away.............."

"Ran away.........? Great shieldmaidens don't normally run away from places.........or people.........." The old man replied, gesturing over to her shield and other weapons that leant against the wall.

"No, they don't. I'm sure that Lagertha wouldn't. So perhaps I will never be great. I should have stayed and stood my ground. I should have faced him; I should have fought him for what he said, in front of everyone. For what he called me.............But how can you fight someone you love, even if he doesn't love you.........." The foundling explained, as she quickly got to her feet and made her way to the fire, so that the old man couldn't see her tears.

"Ah.........love. The one thing that can bring all of us, even the gods, to our knees: better than any sword or axe at cutting at the heart. And whom might this young man be, if you don't mind me asking.............? Perhaps a son of the king of Kattegat." The man said, as (Y/n) looked at him; the foundling nodding slowly.

"Yes...........his youngest. A boy called Ivar.............."

"Ah, Ivar...........why don't you come and tell me all about it.......my little one." The visitor added. (Y/n) nodding again, before taking back her seat across from him.