(Y/n) sat down on the log that was normally used by Ivar, placing her shield and sword by her side before pulling the bow from her shoulder. She hated it when Ivar spoke to her like that. She knew that he only did it because he cared, but the youngest of the boys just went about it all the wrong way. He spoke to her as if he owned her, as if she were some kind of thrall; and even though she loved him dearly, if he insisted on keeping it up, sooner or later she was going to lose her temper and prove to Ivar that just like him and the rest of their brothers, she too was a true child of Ragnar.

Slowly, she got to her feet and picked up her sword, swinging it absentmindedly for a moment; before deciding that the foe she wanted to defeat at this moment, was her youngest sibling. Her thrusts and parries, becoming more determined as she thought of Ivar standing before her.

It was a little strange being here by herself, normally she would come here with her brothers, using the old stag's skull to hone her skills with the bow, or fighting with swords against Ubbe and Hvitserk and even Ivar; and on the odd occasion with just Björn, the princess always enjoying her time alone with her oldest brother from whom she had learnt so much. But she had to confess, that if it wasn't for all the men in her life, she wouldn't be who she was now. She wouldn't be a Viking. The youngest child of Ragnar and Aslaug always hoping to be the best that she could be. To one day even be better than the woman that she modelled herself on, that she looked to as her real mother. Lagertha already telling her how proud she was of her. How one day she could be the most feared shieldmaiden ever; and that between her and Björn they could someday rule the world. But in truth, (Y/n) didn't want the world........all she wanted Athelstan.

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Quietly, he watched. His grey eyes never leaving the form of the youngest child of Ragnar, as she swung her sword. Normally she would come to the spot with her brothers; normally, she would be surrounded by them. A protective wall of the sons of Ragnar, with her at its center. Ivar and Björn in particular seeming to keep the most watchful of eyes; all of them though, treating her as if she were the most precious of jewels, which to him, she was.

The moment that he had first met her, he had thought that his god had sent him an angel to watch over him; the young woman the most perfect thing that he had ever seen. The father having graced him with this divine being to protect him from the pagans that surrounded him. The monk finding it hard to believe that such a creature was not only of flesh and bone; but was also the daughter of the man that had taken him from the monastery on Lindisfarne. Though with the more time that he had spent in Kattegat, it had become obvious that she really was Ragnar's daughter; that she was every inch the Northwoman; yet the time that he and she had been able to spend alone together, had shown him that there was so much more to her. That her gods had not only given her the most wonderful or hearts, but the kindest of natures. And it was this perfect combination that had been the reason that he had fallen in love with her. The reason that he could think of nothing but her. Though how he was to tell her that, never mind her father and brothers, he did not know.

Slowly a smile made its way into his lips, as he watched her continue to fight whatever foe she believed to face her. Sometimes he thought she looked as if she were dancing; a deadly dance, but still a beautiful one. A dance that she would usually perform with her brothers; she and Björn appearing as though they had danced the dance many times. The pair seeming to know the next move of the other, as if they could see into their sibling's mind. Yet here she was, alone; the monk not about to miss out on this rare chance.

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"And who are you fighting, all alone.............?" A voice suddenly came, (Y/n) turning to see Athelstan smiling softly at her.

"At the moment.......Ivar. He has taken to thinking that he is my father, again. That I am not perfectly capable of looking after myself." She replied, as she allowed her blade to drop to her side.

"And what is it that you are doing................?"

"I was going for a walk................"

"And do you always go for a simple walk with your sword, Athelstan.........?" The daughter of Ragnar continued, as she moved a little closer to him and looked at the blade in his belt.

"Well, you never know whom you might bump into.............."

"That is very true, and you just so happen to have bumped into me. So, why not show me what a man of your god can do............if you think that you can take me on............." The princess added with a smile, slowly stepping back and holding up her sword once again. Athelstan nodding in agreement, before pulling his own sword from his waistband.

"I will do my best..............." The former monk replied, as he allowed the edge of his blade to rest against hers.