This is my first Rollo offering. Hope you enjoy as I am going to be going completely off-piste from the show with this one.

Rollo sat alone in his room, refilling his empty glass with more ale. He should be overjoyed; he had just met his brother at the Battle of the River and sent the Viking fleet scurrying away like dogs with their tails between their legs. He had been hailed a hero and the saviour of Paris; yet despite all of this, he had not felt like celebrating. He did not feel like being surrounded by people. His thoughts were on other things, of the look in his brother's eyes, as he had charged at him, before Ragnar had been dragged onto one of the fleeing vessels; but most of all, they were on the woman that was chained up in the dungeon.

Rollo had no idea why she had been left behind by the fleet when they had fled; why Ragnar would let the one that had been dubbed Ragnar's Wolf, go. But he had, and she had somehow been captured; the shieldmaiden brought back to the capital in a cage. The people of Paris spitting at her and throwing rotten food, as she had clung to the bars and bellowed like a wild animal. The duke able to hear the curses that left her lips in his native tongue, as she was dragged to her cell. The woman swearing to Odin, to Thor, to Loki and any other of the gods that might be listening, that she would slit all of her captor's throats while they slept. Rollo having no doubt that if she could escape, she would certainly fulfil this promise.

He could remember the first time that he had seen her on the battlefield; he had been surrounded by men, each one wanting to kill him. But before the Valkyrie could take him to Valhalla, he had heard a sound; a terrifying sound that had reminded him of the snarling of hungry wolves. His eyes growing wide, as instead of a beast, a young woman had raced through the enemy with an axe in each hand, cutting down those that were close to him. Her orbs appearing black, menacing, as man after man was dispatched. Her smile getting bigger as more and more blood covered her skin. It was obvious that whoever she was, she was in her element; and even though he was still in the middle of a battle, he couldn't help but watch her.

Rollo had to imagine that perhaps he was seeing Hel; that the daughter of Loki and sister of Fenrir had seen the battle from her realm and wanted to join. The older son of Sigurd able to think of no other possibility, as the beautiful creature had begun to laugh in the midst of the slaughter. Her skill with her weapons, appearing to be greater than even his own; her movements, so fluid that she appeared as water; not a foot placed wrong, or a wasted strike. She was exquisite, perfect, crazy, and he wanted her..........gods, how he wanted her.

And then, it was over; Rollo looking around to see bodies were mounted up around him. And the woman, well, she just stood with her back to him, her shoulders rising and falling steadily before she let out another laugh and turned to look at him; blood covering her face, her hair, it staining her lips and teeth. His heart beginning to pound more violently than it had done mid battle, as she drew closer to him and looked up into his eyes. Neither hearing the voice of Ragnar as he had run towards them. Rollo only able to move his eyes from hers, when his brother had wrapped his arm around his shoulder. The older man feeling a strange jealousy as Ragnar had then moved to the woman; as his brother had pulled her close, the pair smiling at one another as if they were old friends, or maybe more. It only then that Ragnar had introduced Rollo to his savour. It only then that he had realised that this was (Y/n), his brother's wolf.

Quickly Rollo finished his drink and threw the cup at the wall. The thought of her was driving him mad. It had driven him mad from the moment that he had first seen her. He had wanted to take her right there on that battlefield; and he had wanted her every day since then. And now, now she was so close that he could taste her in the air. Now she was his prisoner, chained in his dungeons, and all he had to do was march down there and have what he had always wanted. Yet something was stopping him, the duke not sure whether it was his old gods, or his new god. He wanted more than to just force himself on her; he wanted her to want him. He wanted her to give herself freely to him; to love him. To have her call herself his wolf, and not his brothers. To have Hel, in human form, tell him that she belonged to him. The Duke of Normandy getting to his feet and making for the door to his room. He had to see her, to speak to her. He had to do something to convince her that even though she may be a prisoner at that moment; she could have a life in Frankia. A life with him. That she could have everything she wanted, if she would just see that he felt more for her than his brother ever could. That Ragnar would never love her, like he wanted to love her. The guards staring in disbelief, as the nobleman made his way into the dungeons. A man quickly opening the cell as Rollo said that he wished to see the prisoner. (Y/n) not even bothering to look up, as the door slammed behind him, and he walked over to where she sat.

"Wolf.........(Y/n)........." His voice sounding much weaker than he had intended it to, when he spoke her name. Something heavy forming in the pit of his stomach as she replied with one word...........

"Traitor................"