The Northmen Series Box Set

by T S Florence

  “He loved gold,” Hilda sighed.

  “I’m talking about the women,” Torsten said.

  “I don’t want to know about that,” Hilda groaned.

  “Well that’s fine, because there’s nothing to say. Ragnar rejected all advancements from all the young women who threw themselves at him. He would never tell us why, but I suppose it’s because he had you, his slave, back home,” Torsten said.

  “You’re saying he didn’t touch a single girl because of me, for four whole years? You weren’t with him the whole time, you can’t know for sure,” Hilda said.

  “I know he did not touch a single girl,” Torsten said.

  “How?” Hilda asked.

  “We fought side by side in shield walls. We drank ale together afterwards. You get to know a man doing these things,” Torsten paused momentarily, before continuing. “And you didn’t see the man’s temper change when he heard of Fyrkat. When he heard that someone had taken you from him. He was going to tear the world in half if that’s what it took to find you,” Torsten said.

  “Well luckily he didn’t have to,” Hilda mumbled.

  “But he would have,” Torsten pressed.

  The noise of horses and carriages began to grow louder on the street, until it stopped at the front of the house. Hilda, Brenna, and Torsten stood from their chairs and made their way to see what the commotion was. Torsten kept his sword in his hand, like any good warrior would.

  “If something happens while Ragnar isn’t here,” Hilda began to say, but couldn’t finish, because the next words she heard silenced her into shock.

  “Ragnar, open up, it’s your leader and beautiful Princess, Isla,” A strong male voice shouted from the other side of the door.

  A servant looked up at Hilda, her nervous face begging for an answer. Hilda walked past her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and opened the door herself. A tall man with a shining white bear fur stood at the door. He smiled down at down at her. He had a scar that travelled down his face, obviously from a previous battle. He was a large man, but not quite as big as Ragnar.

  With him was a young, blonde-haired woman, who wore a gorgeous light blue dress and had a kind face. A kind face that was unmistakably Isla, Duchess of Newcastle; now, Princess Isla. Hilda felt her stomach tighten and fill with butterflies, as she watched Isla’s face change to one of shock.

  “Isla,” Hilda whispered.

  “I knew it,” Isla said, before she rushed forward and took Hilda in her arms.

  Ragnar

  Ragnar heaved his sword down hard on his opponent, relishing the crunching of the breaking shield.

  “Ragnar, we are only sparring,” the voice of his nervous opponent rang through his dishevelled helmet, causing Ragnar to laugh.

  “Men don’t agree to spar with me and then dance around like a fairies” Ragnar swung his sword against the man’s shield, causing it to fly from his arm.

  “Ragnar, stop,” the man said, growing impatient.

  “You need to learn to lean back from those strikes,” Ragnar said, lowering his sword, “You would be killed in battle by now,” Ragnar sheathed his sword and turned to drink from a great barrel of water and wet his perspiring forehead.

  He was still in a foul mood from what had happened that morning. His best friend, Hilda, had told two near strangers more than she had ever told him. She had told god damned Torsten more than she had told him about her past, and all before goddamned breakfast.

  What made him angrier was that he didn’t know how to deal with all this anger and frustration with Hilda. With a man, he could punch him, swing a sword at him, or even just insult him, but he could never do that to Hilda.

  Ragnar wasn’t so surprised that Hilda suspected she had family in Newcastle, after how weird she had acted about coming here. But she could have told him. He would have helped her. He was frustrated that he let himself react the way that he had, by getting angry at her and leaving like he did. Hilda didn’t deserve this, he knew that.

  Beating a few Englishmen to a pulp in the sparring quarters of the castle had taken away a lot of the anger that he harboured just a couple hours ago. He slowly removed the stinking training armour and made his way back to his horse.

  He took the long way home, trying to figure out how he would approach the situation back in his house. He knew that Hilda was angry with him when he left, and she would likely still be angry when he got back. What he wasn’t expecting to see upon his return, however, was Ivar and Isla’s official escort waiting at his front door.

  He grumbled to himself as he tied off his horse, annoyed that he wouldn’t be able to have some peace in his own home after the morning he had. Having Hilda back in England was more exhausting than a war campaign.

  Ragnar stomped into his house, grumbling under his breath about not having any damn privacy in his own home anymore, only to find his centre courtyard half-filled with humans, most of whom he liked, yet he was not in the mood to be talking to any of them.

  “Ragnar, you’re back,” Ivar smiled, oblivious to the morning’s events.

  “Ivar,” Ragnar grumbled.

  A frown replaced Ivar’s smile, “Ok, everyone out except for Ragnar and his new friend, Hilda,” Ivar commanded.

  “And me,” Isla chirped, her arm through Ivar’s.

  “That goes without saying,” Ivar kissed her forehead.

  Without a single remark, each and every person filed out of the courtyard, nodding in respect to Ragnar as they walked past him. Normally, the princess wouldn’t be left without any guards, but being in the same room as both Ivar and Ragnar left her better protected than an an entire honour guard.

  “What’s going on here,” Ragnar said.

  “You’re being a stubborn mule, that’s what’s going on here,” Hilda responded before Ivar could, her eyes locking with his.

  “Oh, Rose,” Isla giggled.

  “Rose?” Ragnar growled, his voice so low it would rival the growl of a bear.

  “My English name, which you would have known had you not run off earlier this morning,” Hilda replied.

  “Rose like the flower,” Ragnar said, less angrily.

  “Yes,” Hilda said more quietly, her anger deflating at the sight of Ragnar calming down.

  “It suits you,” Ragnar said.

  “Not any more,” Hilda said.

  “It suits you more than Hilda,” Ragnar said.

  “Hilda, like fighter?” Ivar asked.

  “Yes. She’s a fighter,” Ragnar replied.

  “No I’m not,” Hilda said.

  “You are. You’ve always fought for those who needed your help,” Ragnar said, looking at Hilda with sadness in his face.

  “Isla,” Hilda said, looking to the princess.

  “Yes, Rose?” Isla replied.

  “May I take Ragnar for a moment and speak with him in public?” Hilda asked.

  “You mean private?” Isla asked.

  “Yes. Of course. Private. My English is a little rusty,” Hilda said, going red.

  “We can leave if you would like,” Isla said.

  “No, I wouldnt-” Hilda began.

  “We have duties to attend. I would like you both to join us for dinner tonight,” Ivar said, cutting her off.

  “Done,” Ragnar said, before Hilda could reply.

  “And Brenna?” Hilda asked.

  “Your friend? Tell her to bring her lover boy Torsten with her,” Isla giggled, “they’re adorable.”

  Within less than a minute, they were alone, staring silently at each other in the court yard.

  “Ragnar, I want to tell you everything,” Hilda said.

  “Very well,” Ragnar said, sitting down in the grass.

  Rose lay down, putting her head in his lap, and began to tell him everything, from her earliest memories that she had, right through to the moment she was claimed by Ragnar on the shores of Fyrkat.

  “So, Rose.” Ragnar said.

  “It feels weird when you call me Rose,”
Hilda said.

  “Hilda was your slave name. You are no longer my slave. I think it is fitting that I call you Rose from now on,” Ragnar said.

  “I’m no longer yours, then” Hilda said.

  “You are your own person, Rose,” Ragnar said.

  Rose lifted herself to her knees, and for the first time since she had met him, looked at him as an equal. But the look on her face was not happiness. It was not even relief. The only expression that Ragnar could make out was confusion. He thought he saw doubt in her eyes too, or maybe it was sadness. Whatever it was, it caused confusion with himself, too.

  41

  Rose

  Rose felt closer to Ragnar than ever before, yet at the same time, she felt more distanced than ever, and it had only been hours since she had told him her story and who she was before she was taken from England. How could he seem so distant? She was sure it was her mind playing tricks on her, since he had made it so clear that she was no longer his slave, to the point that he refused to call her Hilda.

  “Ragnar?” Rose called into his room.

  No answer.

  “Ragnar,” Rose said, walking in.

  Still no answer.

  Rose hesitated before pushing open the bathroom door, her body growing excited from the memories that the room brought back, where she saw Ragnar in his naked, muscled glory.

  As Rose peeked in, she saw Ragnar’s huge body in the iron tub, his head completely submerged under water. The surface of the water was calm.

  “Ragnar,” Rose screamed, running to the tub, grabbing at his arms in an attempt to pull him up.

  His hand latched onto her arm, his grip so strong that it caused her to yelp in pain as he pulled her forwards and completely into the tub with him.

  “What in Odin’s name are you doing, Rose?” Ragnar shouted, surprised.

  “I thought you had drowned,” Rose said, catching her breath, her dress fully soaked in the warm water, as she sat on top of Ragnar’s naked body.

  “What? I’m in a tub, how could I drown?” Ragnar asked.

  “I don’t know, you weren’t moving,” Rose moaned, embarrassed.

  “I like to put my head under. It’s peaceful,” Ragnar said.

  “You’re naked under me, aren’t you,” Rose stated, more than asked.

  “Maybe,” Ragnar said, a sly grin growing on his face.

  “Why are you grinning” Rose asked, feeling herself grow warm.

  “Rose,” Ragnar growled.

  Rose could feel something moving under her skirt, something growing hard between her legs, pushing up against the centre of her thighs.

  “Ragnar” Rose gasped.

  “I cannot be held responsible for my actions if you stay on top of me,” Ragnar said.

  “What will you do if I do not move?” Rose asked, squeezing her thighs together, enjoying the feeling his length between her legs.

  Instead of answering her, Ragnar’s huge hands rose from the tub and gripped her dress from her chest. In one tug, he tore it down the front, exposing her naked breasts, leaving her bare nipples pointing at him.

  A gasp escaped Rose’s lips as she watched his face grow hungry with lust. He pulled her forwards and took her breast in his mouth. As she was pulled forward, she felt his hardness pressing against the centre of her legs.

  A moan escaped her lips as she reached down and wrapped her hand around his length, and felt him throb, as if it was alive.

  Ragnar took his mouth away from her breast and tore the rest of her skirt in one clean rip. He bundled the torn fabric and threw it onto the cold stone floor. Now there was no material to protect Rose’s innocence from Ragnar’s member. And he knew it.

  “Ragnar,” Rose gasped, her eyes wide.

  “You’re still mine,” Ragnar growled, as he took her by her hips and began to move her backwards and forwards along his length.

  “Think that if you want,” Rose said, as she straddled him, feeling his tip pressing against her entrance.

  “I know it,” Ragnar said.

  “You’re as much mine as I am yours,” Rose said.

  She lowered herself onto him, feeling the initial pain of her centre being filled. Soon, after a few thrusts, the pain was replaced with pleasure, and the sound of water splashing out of the tub was replaced by moans of pleasure.

  Rose took Ragnar’s face in her hands and attacked his lips feverishly, biting and sucking and squeezing his face. His taste filled her mouth, and she found herself dipping her head down to taste his neck, his ears and his cheeks. She was overtaken with a desire to have all of him.

  Ragnar stood with Rose still in his arms, which caused her to gasp in surprise. He stepped out of the tub and lifted Rose up and down, allowing his member to fill her completely.

  “Rose I’m going to…” Ragnar said, before grunting and heaving, all of his muscles contracting under her touch. She felt all of his member pulsing inside of her, causing her to moan with pleasure.

  After regaining his composure, Ragnar lowered her back into the tub, to let her was the sex from her body. He stood and watched Rose scrub herself clean with a wry smile on his face.

  “Are you ok just watching me like that?” Rose said, her face red.

  “I could sit here all night,” Ragnar said.

  “Well you can’t, we have to go to dinner with Ivar and Isla,” Rose replied.

  “I know, my rose petal,” Ragnar said.

  “Rose petal?” Rose replied.

  “It’s my new name for you,” Ragnar smiled, as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

  “I like it,” Rose smiled.

  Ragnar

  Ragnar took Rose’s hand and lifted her onto his horse. He took the main road, and enjoyed the feeling of her behind pressing against his body as the horse trotted towards the castle. They rode past the blacksmith’s shelter, where Jack Ashborn stood out the front, washing black dust from his arms and face.

  Ragnar pulled the horse to a stop, to speak with the man who had gone to Scotland with him, not more than twelve months earlier, to rescue a Valkyrie. Ragnar respected Jack. He was a brave man, made good swords, and used good swords well, which was more than Ragnar would say about most other men.

  “Ashborn,” Ragnar said, putting his hand out for the warrior’s handshake.

  “Ragnar the Destroyer. I see you got your slave girl back,” Jack said, eyeing Rose suspiciously.

  “Ah. Hilda is no longer my slave,” Ragnar said feeling his face become heated and Rose’s body stiffen at the word.

  Rose had not taken her eyes from Jack, the whole time they stood speaking in the street, and she stayed quiet even once they had begun their journey to the castle.

  “Hilda, is it?” Jack asked, turning to Rose.

  “Close enough,” Rose clipped.

  “Right we’re off,” Ragnar growled, before pulling on the horse’s reins. “God’s teeth,” Ragnar said, quietly annoyed with himself.

  “What?” Rose asked, through pursed teeth.

  “I called you by your slave name,” Ragnar said.

  “I’m still your slave, just not in so many words,” Rose replied in a curt tone.

  “Rose,” Ragnar groaned, feeling her body stiffen as she answered him.

  “You were acting strange just then,” Ragnar said.

  “Was I?” She asked.

  “You were,” Ragnar said.

  “I thought that Jack fellow seemed familiar, that’s all,” Rose replied quietly.

  “And nothing to do with being called Hilda?” Ragnar asked.

  “I don’t mind being called Hilda, it is my name as much as Rose,” Rose said.

  “I disagree,” Ragnar said.

  “We disagree on most things,” Hilda said, looking toward the castle.

  “So, how was it seeing your family again?” Isla asked as she picked at the roast lamb.

  “What family?” Rose’s eyes widened, causing Ragnar’s body to tense with apprehension at the incoming news.

  �
�My god, of course, how would you have known?” Isla muttered, half to herself.

  “Isla, please don’t withhold information,” Rose said.