Ivar moved as quickly as he could, when he heard a voice shout from the tent that had been set up for him. A shout that sounded very much like it had come from Hvitserk. The dark prince throwing back the flap of the tent to find the strange woman chained to the main post that held up his dwelling; but also, Hvitserk on the floor across from her, holding his hand and staring wide eyed at her.

"Hvit..........."

"She bit me." Hvitserk exclaimed, before Ivar even got the chance to ask. The older Ragnarsson holding up his hand for his brother to see that her teeth had broken the skin.

"What were you doing to her?" Ivar asked, as he made his way into the tent, and took a seat. Giving his brother a quizzical look.

"I was trying to clean her face; she's filthy. I thought if I moved the dirty from at least some of her, she might look more like a human, than a wild animal. I tried showing her that I didn't mean her any harm; but when I put my hand on her cheek, she turned and bit it." Hvitserk explained pointing at the cloth and dish of water, as he got to his feet. The woman smiling wickedly at him, as he moved to sit next to his brother.

"Well, what did the Saxon say..........?" Hvitserk asked. Glaring at the woman, before turning his attention back to his injury; just thankful that it wasn't his right hand.

"He said that she is a Celt from north of the roman wall. That she was captured when she and some others were on a raid in Northumbria......."

"A Celt? Well, what would they want with her, here?" Hvitserk interrupted. Shaking his head, as the woman moved over to the bowl, before grabbing the cloth and dipping it into the water; brushing her wild, matted hair away from her face, before she started to wipe her cheeks.

"It appears that not every woman likes to be touched by you, brother. And the Bishop seems to have had the same problem with her. He didn't admit it; but I guessed that he had bought her, and that he had done so, so she could warm his bed. I think that she refused him, and he had her locked up until he either broke her, or he worked out what else he could do with her..........."

"Well, what are we going to do with her? She not only could have killed you; but she bit me for just touching her face. No man in their right mind would be willing to take her on. It would be like trying to ride a starving wolf........."

"I'll keep her." Ivar suddenly said, watching as a really rather beautiful looking woman appeared from under the dirt that she had wiped from her face. The water in the dish now filthy; but she was now doing her best to wipe away the muck that covered her arms. Hvitserk rolling his eyes, sure that Ivar thought that this was just another way he could prove himself, to not only himself, their people; but also, the Christian that he seemed to be so impressed with. That he could prove that he was fearless and more of a man, if he could tame that, that the Saxon hadn't been able to.

"I want to find out about the lands that lie north of the wall. To know what it is like up there." Ivar explained, as he leant forward in his chair; resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him, as his eyes refused to leave her. Each swipe of the cloth revealing more perfect skin.

"And how are you going to do that? She doesn't seem to speak the language of the Saxons, and I seriously doubt that she speaks ours." Hvitserk retorted with a huff. Wishing that his brother could just finish with the kingdoms of England, before he thought about other lands.

"I will find a way. You underestimate me sometimes, Hvitserk." Ivar replied, turning to smile at his brother, before reaching for his crutch and getting to his feet. The woman stopping cleaning herself, as he made his way over to her. The dark prince leaning against the thick tent pole and using it to help him slide down to the floor, so that he was now sat close to her.

"If she tries to strangle you with those chains, I am not coming to help you this time." Hvitserk told his brother. Though still watching as Ivar carefully took the dirt covered cloth from her hand.

"Why don't you go and get some more water, and another clean cloth." Ivar simply replied. Waving his hand dismissively, as Hvitserk tried to protest about leaving the pair alone.

"I will be fine. Just get the water." Ivar told him. Hvitserk just shaking his head and making his way out of the tent, muttering something about being right that no man in his right mind, would want anything to do with her. His younger sibling not hearing a word, as he watched the woman look at him; seemingly as intrigued with him, as he was with her.

"Ivar.........Ivar." Ivar said slowly, as he pointed at himself.

"My name is Ivar............" The prince smiling, as the woman repeated his name. His language sounding strange coming from her lips.

"What is your name........? Name.........?" Ivar asked, as he pointed at her. The woman seeming to contemplate for a moment, before she pointed at herself.

"(Y/n)...........(Y/n)......." The Celt laughing, as the man in front of her, said it. Ivar slowly reaching up and carefully placing his hand on her now clean cheek. Happy that she did not seem to be interested in biting him, like she had his brother.

"You don't have to worry, (Y/n). You are mine now." Ivar told her, only realising at that moment that her eyes that had previously appeared black, were now of different colours; one eye green, and the other blue.

"Yes, You are definitely mine............"