So as i’m working on my (what is to be my) main fanfiction called Spoons to Swords i’ve also been working on a side story that will be shorter and only have a couple parts. this is the intro to that side story. (my gods i feel like ragnar with somethin’ on the side...)

PAIRINGS: MAIN- Eikhríð x Sigurd SIDE- Asta Bergljot x Ivar Title: Moving a Tree (in a Storm) Summery: How one takes grief varies on the person but you must keep moving. In a land where she was born an outsider Eikhríð will gain a family and maybe make one of her own. Slave to free women she will learn that her actions as one may allow for her to grow as the other, Eikhríð owes nothing to her mistress yet she stays loyal not out of pity or fear but out of love and need. Her mistress’s future is blessed by the gods yet hers, hers in unknown.

Asta Bergljot (blond) is based on my bestie @imaginesparadise  this story is dedicated to them.

story rated: 18+ This story will include: SLOW BUILD, swearing, mentions of rape, attempted rape, blood, smut, graphic gore, and a lot of other stuff though warnings will be on each chapter.

tagging: @imaginesparadise @ivars-pet @cherrytrinkets  (let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part)

Moving a Tree (in a Storm) - INTRO

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The strange dragon ships came one day in the fog. By then they needed no cover of night as rumors across the shores had already started to travel and take root in this once quiet town as more and more accounts of blood shed and fear made its way down the coast.

Chaos, that's what this was. No organization. Exit plans? What exit plans, it was pure mayhem. Women, children executed by family members so the 'heathens' wouldn't do it, or worse. Churches boarded up in haste as if pieces of wood would keep them out. They knew wood, their boats perfectly crafted and unlike any others. And the fire, the blaze of the end times surely. Buildings, people, the fire cleansed all who it touched. Fire didn't pick and choose, it took. If their was one element in this world those northmen could be described as, it was fire. They took, burned, and took more. Their was no recess. But just like a fire some things Hardy make it. She was such a thing. She was the type to endure but this was ridiculous! If you thought when a raid happened you only had to watch out for the raiders you would be wrong. It seemed her people in panic went insane. Slaying their own. She not only had to watch out for the new comers but her own neighbors as well. She was never really lucky however and this day was no different, but it seemed she wasn't down right UN-lucky either. She was taken last, found among the crates and stalls at the markets, the ropes cutting into her hands on her end, the other end was in the hands of a large heathen of a man but was snagged by a young women quickly after. words were exchanged quickly between the two. Consintrating on who’s hand now owned her leash gave her enough distraction to what was going on around. The young women had blond hair blazed red and orange, golden even when the fires around them both hit it just right it was tied back in long braids and her grey eyes didn't look at her but they were fierce and glared at others of her people as she passed. She didn't speak much but seemed to growl in announce to her kin when she needed to. This was someone in charge if people leaving no sooner then her words were spit had anything to go by. The young women wasn't very tall though a couple inches more so then she, a small waist and curvy hips she was dirty with Ash, dirt and blood and smelled of all three. Her leather clothing..or was it armor were fitted to her and she wore pants of all things! women here didn't wear them except in the winter if it was cold enough but even then that was under a dress still. These men and women cleared out as quickly as they came. They did not linger and when all was loaded including her she was in the middle of the water looking at endless waves. Her own black hair kept getting blown in her face. She would need to braid it when she could use her hands again. You would think she would be afraid, among strangers, tied to a pole under the ship, she wasn't, she was far to curious. Everything had happened so fast she was alert looking over everything she could, the others captured like her didn't even look at her, that was no surprise considering she was an outsider to them all. Her green eyes took in who had been spared and she recognized some young women and stronger men. No children or elderly. That meant her father had not made it. Her father, a great healer, was one of them but her mother, a witch of a healer, came from another land. She had her mother's looks mostly, some were unique to herself, all she had been given by her father was her striking  eyes, identical to his. Black hair, palest of skin almond shaped eyes and high cheek bones. Skinny and short with a small chest she got these things from her mother but she also had birthing hips or so she had been told her thighs were a bit on the bigger scale and her butt wasn't flat like her mothers these were the parts of her her father said came from his mother. Green, not to bright like emeralds but more like the Jade her mother had favored from her home land, her eyes stood out just more so then her fathers seemed to as his features didn't seem too make them exotic. on her they seemed foreign, not right. In the darkness like now under the main deck Her eyes seemed black. Her father had been the main healer for their rich small area and was so good others from other areas around contacted him. Even Kings and royalty had called for him. After Her mother had died it was just him and her, she learned everything he would teach her and as he got older she was thankful she did get to travel with him. In fact they had both just gotten back from the royal castle in the east, they had delivered a child of the young queen. She had gone to the markets to get some supplies as three weeks of being gone had their store room needing fresh food. She let herself shed a couple tears in his memory before wiping them away. The Northwomen came back looking far better and less agitated then before, her hair down now and clothes a little cleaner. she untied her and pulled out some bread and water both from the land they had just left. She almost choked on both when the young women opened her mouth and spoke her language. You may think how she spoke wasn't the best but besides a light accent proving she wasn't a native you couldn't tell. So they talked and they learned each other's names, the Northwomen was called Asta Bergljot, Asta by her mother but called Bergljot by her men and her brothers. Asta was the name her mother wished for her to have and the other the name her father called her. It seemed her people called her Asta as a title almost rather then a name but it was shorter and easy to say.Her own name wasn't impressive but she shared it anyway and when the women had trouble she told her how her name meant treestorm so the lady Asta called her Eikhríð eik meant tree, hríð meant storm It was harsher then her own language but she liked it. It was different like she.They talked about that to, about her parents and Asta was impressed with her abilities as a healer she even offered condolences when she talked about her father. Eikhríð knew she shouldn't be spilling so much but she was never good at stopping once she started something. She had never connected with anyone before. Her father's people hated her and no one opened up to her. Asta did. The whole journey to Asta's land was filled with conversation and lessons about their ways. Asta opened about her people about her brothers two older and one younger and a sister as well. Her father was a Jarl in their land and that made Asta a princess of sorts. they talked about many things for many days, above deck and below. Asta seemed to enjoy her company, one of her older brothers was in change of this raid and didn't even seem to mind them both gossiping like kitchen slaves in a palace.

By the time they got off the ship Eikhríð had gained a lot of knowledge she no longer had to be led around like her kin though Asta did tie her hands and hold on to her just for show as she was still a slave. 

Life moved on, Asta's family treated her well. Eikhríð was Asta's personal handmaid but only acted like it when they were in front of others. two years past this way, Eikhríð learned their language, how they fought, how they lived. 

Though she was a slave she had earned the title 'The Wagging' due to always having information to give. she didn't give the information freely, secrets were kept but it wasn't a secret that she knew enough to bury most people. She looked so foreign she could play the part of new slave well to over hear things. most in their land knew not she could speak their language as well as she could.  

Asta thought of Eikhríð more of a sister as her own was older and had been married off. They were close so when Asta went raiding Eikhríð went too. When the sons of Ragnar called upon an army news spread. Asta's father didn't like Ragnar, he wouldn't let his sons go. Asta grew angry at her fathers decisions and left a little farther north to see her uncle who always favored her. Her uncle had raided with Ragnar before he was already packing to answer the call so it wasn't to hard for both women to slip in among his ranks. Her father would no doubt be furious but both women knew he wouldn't send anyone after her.

Eikhríð knew to stay close when they reached Kattegat, the town was bigger then what both were used to, it was new, exciting and Eikhríð thought dangerous. Eikhríð herself tied a rope to one of her wrists and the other end to Asta's, she wouldn't be getting lost or taken off to who knows where. As a friend, a sister and a slave Eikhríð knew Asta would do great things. she could listen to her talk all day of plans for the future, where she wanted to go, things she wanted to do. heading to the great hall Asta walked proud next to her uncle and behind her Eikhríð quickened her steps as not to have the rope pull her along, eyes scanning everything, she wanted no surprises. all three stopped once in the threshold to take it in.

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