#Siggy Bjornsdottir

[ivarthebadbitch]

When she was a slave, all she wanted was her freedom. And she has it. The freedom to leave. And now she has the freedom to come back.

She turns around and walks back down the mountain.

She never tells Bjorn.

- Glory and Gore by @dragonsoftheeast

[therealvikingstrash]

Children of Vikings Week, Day 4: Siggy Bjornsdottir

[bouncehousedemons]

Móðir

This was created for the winter solstice event hosted by @vikingsevents for the prompt holly.

270 word drabble below the cut. No warnings apply. Pairing: Aslaug x Siggy Bjornsdottir.

GIF by @underragingwaves

“Siggy!” Aslaug laughed breathlessly, chasing after the little girl, “Not too far, stay where I can see you!”

Siggy’s shrill, childish giggles rebounded off of the trees as her tiny legs propelled her through the forest.

She squealed, a pair of soft, delicate hands lifting her off of her feet and spinning her around.

“Got you” Aslaug huffed, maneuvering the child to sit snug against her hip. “You are going to need a bath when we get home. You are filthy!”

Siggy squirmed as Aslaug’s thumb swiped gently across the mud on her cheek. “Mama, no!”

The nickname made Aslaug’s heart twinge. If only the poor girl knew the truth of the birth parents that hadn’t wanted her. She would do all she could to live up to the honour of being this abandoned little girl’s mother.

The child’s hands found their way into her mother’s auburn hair as she walked her home, fetching out a stray leaf and holding it up to the light like a prize. “What’s this?”

“A holly leaf, Siggy. It must have caught in my hair when we were playing.”

“Holly?”

“Mmmm. And did you know that holly provides protection from the gods?”

The leaf is still clenched tightly in Siggy’s fist as she stares up at Aslaug wide eyed. “But we only have one leaf.”

“Then it is just as well you have the protection of your mama too”, she smiles down at her, “As long as you take a bath!”

The leaf still rests in Siggy’s hand as she drifts off to sleep that night, safe in the knowledge that both the gods and Aslaug are watching over her.

[alysqueen]

ㅤㅤㅤ Angrboda is the daughter of Floki and Helga, her father named her after the giantess. Angrboda was distinguished by playfulness and unquenchable fun, she grew up as beautiful as her mother. Angrboda did not become a warrior like her, but is an excellent herbalist.

ㅤㅤㅤSiggy is the daughter of Bjorn and Thorunn. Bjorn named her after Siggi, Jarl Haraldson's ex-wife, who sacrificed herself to save his stepbrothers after they fell into the lake. Siggy got the beauty and stubbornness of his mother. Admiring her famous grandmother Lagertha, she followed in her footsteps and became a warrior.

ㅤㅤㅤAU in which the girls survived and did not die early.

[dragonsoftheeast]

will i ever reach the floor

Siggy tries to occupy herself while her family goes on a hunt.

Written for @vikingsevents Autumn Equinox Challenge Day 6: Mushroom

read on Ao3

Siggy tries to occupy herself while her family is on a hunt.

Written for Vikings Autumn Equinox Challenge Day 6: Mushroom

One autumn morning, Siggy's father announces that he will be taking his brothers on a hunt.

It will be the first for Ivar. Now that Aslaug has allowed him to train, she seems to be letting more and more slide. He of course has seized on the opening, training daily and still finding time to attend court in the afternoon. But a hunt? Several days away from home, out in the wilderness? She is sure to say no.

When Aslaug continues to eat dinner calmly, the brothers look at each other with barely hidden excitement. But they cannot show it to their mother, for fear of her changing her mind.

"You will remember to take him on the stretcher," She only says, and holds out her cup for more wine.

"I will bring back a stag for you, Mother," Ivar promises.

"No!" The other boys chorus. 

True, he is the best shot out of them, but none of them are willing to say so to him. Then, as competitive as ever, they begin to promise Aslaug greater and greater prizes.

Only when Sigurd promises a bear's heart does Siggy pipe up.

"Can I go along?"

Five heads swivel towards her.

"I can shoot." She points out to their silence. "And I can skin."

"I think you're a little too small for this," Ubbe says, very kindly.

"Besides, shooting isn't everything," Sigurd says, elbowing Ivar. "Hunting is about instincts. Being in the wild."

"This is for sons of Ragnar," Ivar cuts in, a little too enthusiastically. He is already excited to be included. He cannot abide another joining in.

Despite the boys being technically her uncles, they are close enough in age that they are functionally her brothers. Ubbe is seven years her elder, and Ivar only two. They have grown up together. She even trains alongside them. Well, except for Ivar and his secret lessons. But she is the littlest, and a girl to boot, and is therefore forced to be  the tagalong kid.

Unlike most tagalong kids, Siggy can tell when she's not wanted. But she plays her last card.

"Father, surely you would not mind me?"

All five heads turn back to him, five pairs of blue eyes boring into him, waiting for an answer.

He hesitates, his eyes flitting around them before looking to her.

"We would worry about you," he says finally. She slumps in defeat and finishes her meal in silence.

When they leave, her father pats her heavily on the head.

"Prepare for a lot of rabbit," he whispers in her ear, and winks. She stifles a giggle, and each of her uncles sets a heavy hand on her head as they pass, even Ivar.

"Take your glove off first," She mumbles, and he makes sure to muss up her hair for saying that.

She's quiet that night while she weaves. She wants to sulk. This is supposed to become a cloak for Sigurd, but she thinks she'll keep it for herself. 

"Why don't you prepare a meal for when they return?" Aslaug suggests instead.

She brightens at that.

Ha! They will probably come back starving, and when they see her big meal, they will have to beg for it! She grins at the thought and her strokes with the comb go just a little bit faster.

The next morning she straps her little sword to her side- one cannot be too careful- and takes a basket into the woods to find mushrooms.

She should gather them herself, she reasons. After all, what better way to show her independence? She can provide!

She spends all day finding some. It is a long walk to the forest- the city seems to be getting bigger every day. The trees have turned golden, and she squints against the sunlight in the forest, searching among the rich dark soil for her quarry. There is a bit of triumph in finding every bit of them, and she imagines her grateful uncles every time she cuts them free.

Terrified of accidentally poisoning her family, she sticks only to the ones she knows- they have large leathery gray caps, or tiny thin stalks and white nubs at their tips. 

And even then, she takes them to the cooks in the kitchen to check them for her, just in case.

She can see some of them trying to hide their amusement at her caution, but she disregards them. She has to remain focused on her task.

On the day they are supposed to return from their hunt, Siggy gets up, determined to 

She slices through the mushrooms clumsily- for all her finesse with a sword, the rubbery texture of the fungus makes things too slippery for her to make even cuts.

The slaves are amused to see her in the kitchen again, but they leave her to her corner to try to make a stew by herself.

Her stew is finished when the hunters return. As her father had predicted, his back is laden with nearly a dozen rabbits, but slung across Ubbe's back is a fairly sizable deer.

"I made soup for you all," She calls out to them, waving wildly.

As her father goes to unbidden himself of the various animals, her uncles gather around the table.

Ubbe smiles and eats and tells her that it is very tasty,  but he is always too courteous, too afraid to offend.

Hvitserk eats without discretion, so his shrug and reaching for a second helping does not provide anything helpful either.

Sigurd finishes and tells her "Not bad." She decides maybe she'll finish up that cloak for him then. Maybe use that rabbit fur for some lining.

Ivar takes one bite and spits it back out. 

"This is disgusting."

[conaionaru]

The Drowned girl

Burn the Witch

Synopsis: Rollo and Siggy talk. Bjorn’s men ruturn to Kattegat to witness a fight between a volva and the queen

Warnings: violence, shit parenting (Bjorn), child abandonment, language, canon divergence, murder, blood

Tags:

@pieces-by-me​

I don’t own the gifs.

Siggy sat at the edge of the ship and watched the nearing shores of Frankia. Usually she would sit with Helga, but she had her hands full with her little orphan girl. Tanaruz was hostile and scared, no wonder there. And Siggy was in no mood to play babysitter.

Heavy boots hit the deck in front of her. Her eyes trailed from the wooden floors to the owner of the dirty shoes. "Rollo."

"We are nearing the shores of Frankia. I wished to talk to you one more time."

"I am in no mood to talk to traitors."

Rollo chuckled and sat down next to her. "You only wish to speak to me, cause I'm named after your dead lover. Is this your attempt to share a bond with me or repair the one you lost."

"Siggy is gone." Rollo sighed and looked down at the blonde. She looked so much like Ragnar and Rollo. Oh but the fury was all Porunn. "Floki and Helga did a good job raising you."

"I know." Siggy spat annoyed.

"But the Ragnar's and Lagertha's blood flows through your veins. It will bring hardships. Bastard born or not. Just... Don't let the jealousy and revenge win."

"Like you did?" Siggy mocked only to see the former viking nod. "I don't need advice from a traitor. Or a christian."

Rollo nodded and stood to leave but stopped again. "The wristband I gave you." Siggy looked down at the solid golden bangle and frowned. She forgot that he gave it to her. "Keep it. Women don't get armbands. Keep it close. It's your proof of battle."

"You stole it not me."

"I am not viking. You are. They can all be proud of you." The blonde stuck her tongue out to watch him go. Yet when he turned his back, she reveled in the praise. It was strange to get it from someone she heard so much bad of. In Floki's tales Rollo was the traitor that betrayed Ragnar. But Ragnar wasn't anything like he was in Floki's tales. So maybe there was more to Rollo than a betrayal. No matter how dire.

"I want to make you all an offer." Rollo called out to the people making everyone stare him down. "Anyone from our homelands who wants good, rich lands to farm can come and live in my kingdom. There will always be a part of Frankia which is a part of us."

"Us?" Floki grimaced at the Frankish lord. "You are no longer a part of "us," Rollo."

"But what is "us," Floki, is changing. Only you won't accept it." Floki chuckled at the riddiculous remark." And so I say the same to you." He looked at Bjorn. "And you, Hvitserk."

"Too much bad blood, Rollo." Bjorn spat not even looking at his uncle that he once loved so much.

"Once a betrayer, always a betrayer." Answered Hvitserk.

Rollo nodded and looked at Siggy, standing behind everyone like an outcast. "And what of you?"

Everyone turned their heads to look at the young Völva. "I am not a farmer, am I?"

"You could fight in an army. I could provide you with a nice place, men to fight alongside with. You would be treated with respect." Not like you are here. That's what he meant.

Bjorn looked at her from the corner of his eye. Waiting like everyone else. It sickened Siggy that he might care about her depiction. Fuck him. "I won't abandon the gods. I am a Völva. I pray to Odin and Eir. Not to your false God."

"Then pray to them."

He was growing desperate, but the smile never left his face. "There is a place in Frankia for you if you ever change your mind." With that Rollo said goodbye to Helga and left to reunite with his son. Siggy watched the interaction with bitterness.

He looked back one more time and looked at her. "She would have been proud if she stayed."

Bjorn scoffed and Siggy took that as a sign not to answer. Stayed. That meant it must have been her mother. The woman that left her to Aslaugs care and run off to find herself. No matter the bitterness it left behind. She understood the decision. She would have chosen the same if the choice laid between Bjorn or freedom.

"You could have left." Hvitserk whispered in her ear, yet Siggy ignored him.

"My place is here." She answered loudly so both Rollo and Bjorn could hear. "No matter what anyone might think." Siggy turned on her heel and walked to the other side of the boat to climb back up the mast.

When they returned to Kattegat, it looked different. Ditches and walls were being built. Apparently Lagertha was making a few changes. She watched Hvitserk wander off. But she had a mission to complete.

"If you kill her, my brothers, you'll have to kill me too."

"Maybe we should." Ivar spat back.

"Shut up." Ubbe ordered looking Bjorn up and down. "She killed our mother."

"I know. You want revenge. So would I. But more importantly, we have to avenge our father. That is why I came back. And that is what we are going to do."

Siggy chuckled and walked around the Ragnarsson. "All hail Queen Lagertha. The one that killed the witch."

Ivar glared Siggy down while Ubbe tried to stop her before she made a scene. Too late. "I see you have returned safely."

"You care. How touching." Siggy mocked looking the new queen up and down. "But you made the wrong choice. What you did will destroy all of us!"

"Aslaug paid for what she did."

Siggy laughed out out and wiped away a fake tear. "What? Fullfilling a prophecy? Giving Ragnar sons you could not? Better ones? Or any at all? Don't you need two for that? He was married. That's what everything is about isn't it? Jealousy. He lost interest and you..."

"That is enough!" Legartha ordered and glared Siggy down. "I understand that Aslaug raised you, but my revenge ended with her. So let there be peace."

"Too late, Lagertha." Ivar roared angrily.

"Aslaug was no witch!" Siggy only chuckled and spread her arms. "Me on the other hand."

Mad giggles spread through the hall. Lagertha's shieldmaidens stepped closer the their queen. Bjorn also took a stand next to his mother. The two stared Siggy down with hate in their eyes. How fitting.

"You are a Völva like Aslaug. Because you have the gift of sigh. Visions?" Lagertha boasted her new knowledge. The Ragnarssons stiffened and Floki moved to drag the angry blonde away.

"Yes. If that made her a witch, then so am I. Will you kill me to?"

"You are no witch."

"You sure, Legetha?" She pushed Floki off and run to Bjorn's side. She ripped his dagger from the holster and cut her palm. "I swear on Odin and his missing eye that until the sun goes up tomorrow, five of your shieldmaidens will drop dead!"

"Stop it!" Bjorn ordered only for Ubbe to stand in his way.

"If she is no witch then there is nothing to fear." Ivar mocked looking at Lagertha.

Siggy licked the blood off her palm and showed her bloody tongue to Lagertha. "Till the morrow." She turned on her heel and left the great hall. The air outside was thick and made her want to shout. She saved that part for when she returns home.

A chuckle escapes instead. Rollo said her mother would be proud if she stayed. It makes her wonder. What would mommy say now?

During the sacrifice. Siggy watched the flames of the torches rise. The dying mans words lost in the gasps of the crowd. The drops of blood hit her face. Yet none of them were as strong as the gasps of the shieldmaidens on the back of the crowd. Blood dripped from their eyes as they tried to make anyone notice. Thought the gaps of the people, Siggy looked back on them.

She gave them a wicked smile and put her palm up, the cut open for all to see. When the drops of blood her the side of her face, Siggy turned to look at Lagertha and smiled. "You chose wrong."

[stefivare]

A few of the Vikings women I love!

Freya Ironside, Gifted by the Gods on Wattpad by stefivare

in this fanfic you’ll find only badass women and an extraordinary main character, a fighter, Gifted by the Gods, a shieldmaiden, standing up for who she loves and what she believes in!

[lisinfleur]

WYWTTS - Chapter 08: Those who plant dates (Final Chapter)

Author’s Notes | It's said that an old man was calmly planting his dates when a young boy came around. Curious about the old man's task, the young boy asked: "Why are you planting dates when you won't be alive to harvest them?". The old man smiled at the young man's question, answering it with wise words: "If everyone was to think as you do, nobody would ever harvest dates." Words | 970 ⁑ Warnings: None

"If you keep drinking like this, you won't be here to see it coming, brother."

Wise words from someone who couldn't control himself around a bottle, thought Sigurd, while Hvitserk was still patting his shoulder.

The two of them were in the dining room, an amphora of mead in front of them.

Björn was closer to the door. A cup in his hands and his ears attentive out into the hallway, looking for any sign that the wait would be over for them soon.

Even so, the hallway was silent.

Another sip of his mead and Björn found himself thinking Siggy was a strong woman. Many would-be screaming, others would demand their husbands' presence, but she had acted like a lioness: screaming everyone out of the room (except Thorhild), handling her own labor bravely in the face of the pain he knew she would face.

Long hours had passed since then, and no sign that the labor was over. Sigurd was beginning to worry about the baby's condition. Ivar had left with Ubbe a few moments ago - To keep his thoughts from attracting bad luck, Ubbe justified.

But everyone was worried about the silence coming from the rooms.

"I think I should go there," said Sigurd, rising from his chair for the fifth time in an hour.

"She said she didn't want to," recalled Björn.

"But I should be there! I should be supporting her...I..." Sigurd gasped.

"She is a woman, Sigurd," said Hvitserk.

Looking like the only one who was relaxed in the whole situation.

"She knows better," he added, taking a sip of his mead.

"She was made by the gods for this task. Trust your wife as much as I trust my daughter," Björn insisted.

Making Sigurd sit down again, defeated.

"It seems like I'm not doing anything to bring my child into this world," said Sigurd, disappointed.

Drink his whole cup of mead before filling it from the amphora again.

"That's because that's not your task, little brother," replied Hvitserk, smiling childishly. "And thank the gods, this isn't your task, or else we'd all be deafened by your screams by now."

Björn couldn't help but smile as Sigurd middle-fingered his older brother, sighing in frustration.

"Why does it take so long?" he regretted it.

"Let her have her time, Sigurd. She doesn't be so childish and impatient. It is life itself happening before our eyes. Take this chance. We may not have another one."

Dag's words slammed heavily into Sigurd's ears. After all, they were Vikings. They never knew when Valhalla would call.

Sigurd prepared to respond when Björn was alerted by sounds coming from the hallway.

"Björn?" Sigurd asked from the table.

"Shh," said Björn, holding up his fingers.

And once again, the sound came. This time, loud and clear.

A childish cry that filled the hallway, reaching their ears and putting a smile on all of their faces.

"Your child is born, Sigurd," Dag smiled. "Go and welcome it, son."

Björn signaled for Sigurd to pass towards the bedroom. They were all close to the door when Thorhild opened it, smiling.

"Go slowly…" she called, allowing them to enter the room.

One by one they entered the room. Sigurd was leading the small group. Dag and Björn right behind him. Hvitserk took on the task of notifying the other two, retreating to go after Ubbe and Ivar.

On the bed, the peaceful scene unfolded almost immaculate: With a smile on her face, Siggy held the small package in her arms from which a tiny hand reached out feeling the air for the first time.

The small existence in her arms summing up the whole world to her eyes filled with tears of joy.

"Her name shall be Synnove," Siggy said, smiling. "For she came with the sun of a new day, like a gift from Sun to us, my love."

Sigurd sat beside them, tearing up.

"She's so beautiful..." he said, seeing his daughter so delicate on Siggy's hands.

Slowly, the little girl was passed into Sigurd's embrace for her first blessings. Then, into Dag's hands to receive his love.

Unaware of his position in that scene, Björn remained at the door, watching as everything happened, smiling at the moment without really expecting to receive that invitation.

"Come, father," Siggy said, surprising him with that word. "Come and hold your grandchild," she completed, smiling.

Since he'd saved Dag's life, that was the first time she would call him anything but his name. That simple word was something Björn was never expecting to hear from her.

Dag's face was self-explanatory. His smile was saying words untold that Björn could read in his eyes. "Time, my friend. Time."

Time had finally come for him when the smiles were open for his entrance. When his place was there for him to occupy.

And the little girl was developed in his arms like a gentle gift. Blood of his blood once again in his hands. Blue eyes like his once again looking at him.

It was like holding Siggy one more time between his arms and seeing her little eyes looking back at him, so curious.

Björn's blues teared up, and he smiled.

"May the gods be with you, little child. May them bless your life like they've been blessing mine. Like they've blessed my father's life before mine. Welcome to this world, sweet child. May your life be full of happiness like my heart is full of it now."

Siggy watched Björn's lips gently kiss the child's forehead. And they laughed together as little Synnove grabbed the old man's beard, not letting him back away.

"It seems she found her new favorite pulling toy, son of Ragnar!" Dag laughed happily.

With his heart full of joy, Björn knew those laughs were a new beginning for him.

I'm sorry for a short epilogue for this story, but I don't feel exactly inspired nowadays. I hope you guys have enjoyed this work, and thanks to everyone who followed it 'till now!

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[ladyfantasy98]

Vikings Season 6 - SPOILERS!

So my brother and I started watching Vikings Season 6B this weekend on Amazon Prime

Major spoilers below the cut!

And we were so surprised by Bjorn’s death! I was so sure he was going to recover, that Haakon’s message (RIP poor Haakon) was a trick, like Ragnar did in Paris (which I guess it was, in a way, but not quite the same). 

But it was a fitting death scene, I think, for Bjorn Ironside, for the son of Ragnar and Lagertha, for one of the few remaining characters from season 1. I hoped we would see some flashbacks of earlier seasons or Bjorn having visions of his parents, but I’m content with what we got. I especially like Hvitserk’s small eulogy, patterned after Ragnar’s death poem.

But, as a side note, is Torvi (and Bjorn) not allowed to have any surviving children? Because the poor woman (and Bjorn) has lost three kids already -- Guthram I kinda understand because he was killed in battle, but Hali and Asa’s deaths were both stupid and pointless (just like their sister Siggy). Like, jeez. Stop killing off the kids.

[purplecloaks]

When I rewrite shit can I just resurrect everyone? Is that cool? Y’all gonna be mad at me?

[persephonaddams]

Why do the Vikings writers/producers/directors hate their characters' daughters so much?

[triumphantreturnofpies-blog]

Someone called for Sigurd feels?

Have some Siggy Jr feels too! Moodboard for an au where Sigurd pulls Siggy out of the water and later teaches her to fucking swim. She becomes his little shadow, constantly following him around, and he grows up to be less bitter without his mother and Ivar’s reaction (or lack of) to her death, and having her as a best friend and someone to feel loved and needed by.

[No pictures are mine, but the collage is. Chose some pics of Elle Fanning in The Nutcracker (2009) as older!Siggy]

@honestsycrets @bonniebird @lisinfleur @akamaiden

[bouncehousedemons]

Winter Solstice Prompts Masterlist

In December 2022 I participated in the @vikingsevents Winter Solstice prompts event. Below you will find all pieces I submitted.

Stargazing (Floki x Helga)

Holly (Aslaug & little Siggy)

Snow (Gunnhild)

Candlelight (Queen Kwenthrith)

Furs (Rollo x Siggy)

Sauna (Ubbe x OFC)

Body Heat (Floki x Helga)

[goldentailedmermaids]

V I K I N G S   W O M E N   M E M E [1/3] daughters: Siggy Bjornsdottir

“I have a name, if Thorunn agrees. I wish to call her Siggy; after Siggy who saved the sons of Ragnar.”

[dragonsoftheeast]

i don’t ever think about death (it’s alright if you do, it’s fine)

read on Ao3

Thorunn begins to worry that her scar- and what it means- will somehow affect her pregnancy.

Written for @vikingsevents Autumn Equinox Challenge Day 3: Sacrifice

Crouched on the side of that hill, Thorunn thought that the worst possible ending would be her death. She would die in glory though. This last year of freedom feels like enough. Even a day had been enough. She could be satisfied with her life and her death.

When the first blow came, she’d thought it very strange that she couldn’t see anything. Her eyes were watering, she had to brush away her tears, she couldn’t be crying on the battlefield. A second later, it was hair in her face, and she couldn’t raise her hand to brush it away, and she really should have tied it back tighter-

Then she’d woken up, and for those brief moments, the pain had been blinding. But she hadn’t even had the energy to scream. She tried to open her mouth, and even that hurt too much.

“Thorunn! Thorunn,” Bjorn’s voice reaches her through the fog of pain, and she can see the gray-blue of the sky through fluttering eyelids. “Are you thirsty? Is there anything you need?”

“I am not thirsty,” she mutters, and her mouth is too dry and too wet all at once, but as always, she must make him understand. “Or hungry, or alive at all.”

Because it would be easier to be dead. It would be easier to be dead than this half-life, these days of pain, this awareness of something missing in her face.

And yes, Bjorn would mourn her for a bit. His first love, he would remember her forever. But she would always be young and beautiful in his mind. 

She looks down at her rounded stomach. 

And he would have mourned the child inside her. Even Ragnar might mourn the child inside her, if Bjorn had ever told him.

But now that it is clear that she and (more importantly) his grandchild inside her, are not about to die, he has gone back to ignoring her.

She can accept that, more than his judgment, more than annoyance, more than the fear in his eyes when he looks at her that has nothing to do with her. She has been a non-entity to him for so long when she was his slave that this is a place of familiarity for her.

The wound has scarred, becoming rough and stiff in the smooth skin of her face. It pulls at her face no matter how she moves, and it is red, so red, she can’t help but think people can see it even through the thin linen of her veil.

Bjorn assures her that she is still beautiful, and he’d married her anyway, that little sham of a ceremony. But she sees the pity in his eyes, and the guilt, and she knows the truth. 

He forces himself to touch her, to look at her, she sees and feels his hesitation. This consideration, this affection, comes from the remainder of his love from before she was scarred. Eventually, these residuals will run out, or she will give birth and all of it will transfer to their child, and it will hurt when she sees it in his eyes.

So she is weaning herself off of him. When eventually he realizes that he doesn’t love her anymore, she can end things on her own terms.

That’s what she would like to think. But she knows, in her heart of hearts, that it is still her that’s the problem, really. The weakness in her. She doesn’t know how to be a warrior. She doesn’t know how to be a royal either, to maneuver in these halls where she used to serve.

She thought that having her freedom would be enough for her. That freedom had made her new. But there is still so much left in her that doesn’t belong in her current station.

Her husband returns to her that night, beaming. In his hand is a slice of bread, slathered in honey. He offers it to her, and she accepts silently, chewing it softly, and she barely tastes the sweetness.

He rests his hand on her belly, and she doesn’t flinch back. It is natural for him to have affection for his child. 

“How is baby doing today?” he says.

How could she be so delusional as to believe she could be worthy of the son of Ragnar Lothbrok? The son of Lagertha? To stand alongside, to fight alongside, to bear his child? 

“It’ll be weak,” she says softly.

He blinks.

“What?”

“It’ll be weak,” she repeats. “It’s your child, yes, but my child too, and it’ll be weak, it won’t survive, I know it, I know it-”

“Thorunn,” he says, and there is actual terror in his eyes, despite his steady hold on her and his even voice. “How do you know this?”

“Look at me,” she says, because isn’t it obvious? “I was wounded while it was within me, who’s to say it has not been affected?”

His face pales as he considers what she has said.

“We will sacrifice tomorrow,” he says, finally,firmly. “We will make a sacrifice to Frigg, that she will protect you and our child.”

She nods. Yes, anything. Perhaps the goddess would help her child escape the consequences of its mother’s actions.

So she chooses a sacrifice.

Bjorn offers up one of his horses. But no, if she chooses one of Bjorn’s vast horde of animals, it will not be a sacrifice. She has to be giving something up, something real. Something hers, because the fault is hers.

Her little goat has grown big, now. She is Thorunn’s, and the first thing that is solely hers, even as she adds to her flock along with Bjorn’s. But she is precious to Thorunn, and will make a fitting sacrifice. 

She is too trusting, as they lead her to the altar.

Bjorn holds the goat down and Thorunn holds the knife. 

Let this not be an omen, she prays, let this child be free of me. And slices across her little goat’s throat.

[conaionaru]

The Drowned girl

Raid

Synopsis: Siggy fights in her first battle

Warnings: violence, shit parenting (Bjorn), child abandonment, language, canon divergence, murder, blood, kidnapping, visions of death

Tags:

@pieces-by-me​

I don’t own the gifs.

The snow was falling all around Siggy. The cold wind was biting into her cheeks and numbing her toes. Any longer, and she would freeze. But fighting in her coat got her too sweaty, so she threw it off.

She glared at her enemy, standing there unbothered by her attempts to kill him. How arrogant of that bastard. The blonde charged forward again, hitting him left and right, his insides flying around the air. Siggy grinned in victory and hit him in the iron plate around his chest, the blade screeching in protest.

"You are gonna dull the blade like that." A voice called, startling her from her concentration. Siggy twirled around and pointed the blade at the intruder. But luckily, it was just Floki.

"A real warrior fight steel with steel. Christians have steel armor, and I want to destroy it." She bragged, slicing her opponent's neck.

Floki chuckled and skipped over to her. He picked up her coat and duster the snow off it. "Your Christian is dressed like a Viking. And he is made off straw." He plucked a piece of straw from her hair and pointed at the makeshift training dummy.

"You have to aim for weak spots: neck, head. Cut the legs to make it harder to walk, the arms to weaken the muscles. Think, don't just kill."

Siggy frowned and glared at the snow that fell on her nose. "Why overthink if I know that they will die anyway?"

"Thinking is so you survive, not that they die." He fixed the fourteen-year-olds stance and lightly slapped her shoulders. "Now fight. The gods are watching."

Siggy sat behind Rollo, picking at her nails with her freshly sharpened dagger. They were nearing a port which meant new provisions and probably bloodshed. Finally.

Floki kept looking at her whenever she went still for a little too long. He was so worried that she would have a vision in front of all these people. It was a well-kept secret, including her other skills. According to him and Aslaug, it was better if no one knew that she had a gift from the gods. People with her set of skills were cherished but also cursed as witches. It wasn't safe for people to know that she knew how to curse someone or see their future. Not that she got to decide what she saw.

It was nighttime by when they docked into the strange place. Siggy was one of the first people to jump off the ship. She drew her sword; it was specially made for her first raid, decorated with runes for strength and protection.

"The gods are watching." She whispered giddily and skipped behind Hvitserk into a marketplace. This one was far bigger than the one in Kattegat. The people were of darker skin and spoke in a foreign tongue.

Siggy walked between the people, watching their strange products and clothes. In her leather armor, she looked like an outsider. The blonde twirled in a circle, grinning at the fabulous view. The world outside her home was... breathtaking. The terrified screams of the dying people added a certain flair to it all.

With one last twirl, Siggy charged into the masses of fleeing foreigners and joined in the slaughter. It was like she was born for this. The scared look in the people's eyes before they drew their last breath gave her a new kind of rush. She had killed before, of course, but never so many and so terrified.

The shieldmaiden cheered while slicing through the merchants and costumers, ignoring the loots in favor of the battle. She pierced a woman's chest with her sword, stopping at the stall where her body fell. Blood poured from her chest and mouth, her eyes wide open while her body gave its last twitches.

The merchant that owned the stall hid behind the table, watching the bloodied Viking looking down at the poor woman, her eyes crazed and her hands shaking. He kept babbling something frantically, but the blonde couldn't understand a word.

The begging only reminded her that he was there. She looked up at him and frowned at the strange things on the table. He sold animals from foreign places. The horrifying creature in his arms was screeching and biting. It was small and hairy with a tail.

Curiously, Siggy reached her hand out to touch it, only for the merchant to flinch and loosen his hold on the animal. The monkey broke free and climbed up the beam onto the roof of the stall. Shocked, the man called out to it, reaching for its little furry tail.

Siggy frowned and looked between the man and the animal. She sheathed her blade and carefully climbed up onto the frail stall roof. She balanced on one foot and pulled the animal into her arms.

It fought back, scratching, screeching, and biting her arms in an attempt to escape. Siggy jumped back on the ground and held the fighting monkey out for the man to take back. He slowly took it from her arms and nodded in thanks while blubbering something to her in gratitude.

The blonde unsheathed her sword to return to her murdering spree with a smile, ignoring the stall owner and his animals. A spear pierced the man's head, the tip poking out of his open mouth. The man dropped to the ground, and the monkey escaped once again.

Siggy watched, shocked at the animal run away, her eyes following it till it got lost in the masses of people. She wiped at the blood he sprayed on her face and turned back to the corpse. One of her fellow men was robbing the body of the jewelry. "Rich fool."

He stood up and clasped the golden necklace around his neck in victory. Siggy glared at him and stabbed him. His shocked eyes watched her until his knees gave out, and he slid from her sword. Before he did, Siggy yanked the gold off him. Hiding it in her pocket instead, she kicked him away and left him behind.

Siggy walked through the slaughtered people and robbed stalls with heavy feet. It was strange to see so much bloodshed and death around herself, and it was different to imagine it and see it. She could smell burning wood but couldn't see any fire around her.

She stopped dead in her track and breathed in the air thick with smoke. Her skin burned as the world grew quieter. Her eyes grew milky white, and the world faded completely. Instead of the dark marketplace in Spain, she stood in a burning field.

Everything was on fire; she could hear screams as a burning corpse ran by. Siggy stood there as the flames surrounded her and slowly lapped at her delicate skin. She was dressed in expensive clothes, a sword by her side.

In the distance, somewhere hidden under the sound of burning people and crackling fire, she made out the sound of an arrow being shot. The next thing she knew, she felt a pain in her back. Her mouth opened in a silent cry as the impact made her take a step forward in surprise.

Siggy's trembling hand reached out to her back, feeling the arrow that was stuck in her body. A shaky breath left her mouth as the pain flared up, and she fell to her knees, the world burning around her, the flame igniting her dress.

"Witch." Someone whispered into her ear, a gust of wind ruffling her hair like a gentle caress on her cheek.

The world turned dark, the flames stopped burned, and all left was ash and bone. Bones littered the ground around her, serpents crawling all over them, slithering towards her. Siggy locked eyes with the reptile, its little tongue darting out before it jumped forward, biting into her hand.

Siggy cried out and ripped the snake's teeth from her palm; this alarmed the other serpents. They all attacked her, biting her one after the other. The shieldmaiden screamed in pain, falling to her side from all the venom in her system. She could feel them bite her, laughter surrounding her from all sides. People were cheering.

"Heathen." The snakes hissed out before striking again and again. Then they stopped. She laid on the ground, unmoving, just breathing and thinking. What is happening?

The ground around turned to grass, and the sky went blue while the birds chirped happily. Siggy turned onto her back, watching the sky turning into a familiar rooftop. Slowly she picked herself up and limped towards the door. A person stepped into the doorway; their silhouette was hiding the sun, dark but still familiar. The light changed, and there stood Aslaug.

The Queen didn't talk or do anything. She just stood there, blinking, watching Siggy with hard eyes. "Aslaug?" The vőlva turned on her heel, her red cloak soaked in blood. She slowly walked away, crows cawing behind her. Siggy took a few unsure steps towards her, but another figure passed her, he looked familiar as well, but she couldn't see who it was. The person followed after Aslaug, gates opened in front of them. When they walked through, the gates closed, and Siggy was left standing there. All lone and lost. She sobbed out a weak cry for help, only to wake up to someone shaking her.

"Siggy!" Hissed Bjorn, holding her by one shoulder from behind. Her eyes turned back to normal; she spun on her heel. Her sword aimed for his neck, but she knocked it away, glaring at her. "Get a grip before someone kills you. Why are you standing here?!"

Hvitserk runs up to them, taking the confused Siggy from him. "Got any loot, Siggy?" The disoriented girl looks at him and then sticks a hand in her pocket, and she pulls the golden necklace out and holds it out to him with a shaking bloody hand.

Hvitserks smiles at her while Bjorn huffs. "I promised Sigurd a lute from here. But I can't see any." She whispered to cover up the truth. Searching for a musical instrument sounds better than having visions.

Bjorn shook his head and stalked off with one last warning to watch themselves. Hvitserk pulled Siggy to his side and helped her unsure feet to follow the rest of the raiders. "What did you see?"

But Siggy couldn't tell him. She wasn't sure what she saw, it all happened so fast, and there was so much pain.

"Mother says it's better if you talk about it." Right yes. Aslaug... But how is she supposed to tell Hvitserk she saw his mother enter Valhalla? If it was even that.

"I don't know. I will ask the Gods." And with that, the conversation was over. But Siggy still clutched the necklace in her bloody fist.

She could see Rollo murdering a merchant easily; he looked in his element. "Did you miss it?" The Duke looked up to see her wide eyes and shaky steps.

"What?"

"Did you miss the slaughter? The raiding?" She pulled a crazy smile and giggled madly. "You looked so pathetic when you came on the boat. I mean the hair. The clothes."

Siggy kept on giggling and walked over to the corpse on the table. She trailed her fingers over the slit throat and used them to paint the rune for strength on his cheek. "You still look stupid. But I think that's just your face."

Rollo pulled her hand off his cheek and looked at her. The blonde looked deranged, shaking, covered in blood, giggling like a madwoman. Whatever he deduced from all that made him pause. "This your first battle?"

"What if it was?" She whispered as another corpse fell near them. Rollo pulled her closer and pried the necklace from her hold. He stuffed it in her pocket, followed by an arm hoop from his latest murder.

"Hide them well. Stay alert and don't freeze." He looked back into her eyes and brushed down her wild hair. "You have the same eyes, and I always hated those eyes on Ragnar."

"That makes two of us." Rollo patted her cheek and stalked off, leaving her behind. Siggy sighed and spat on the ground, moving into the city walls. She cut through the fleeing masses, stealing where she could to bring back home.

Helga ushered her to her side, a group of Vikings moved into a place with black curtains. A single man stood there, protecting whatever hid inside the building. He took out a dagger, staring at the raiders, terrified.

Bjorn tutted at him. The man charged forward with a war cry but fell dead the next second as Bjorn cut him down effortlessly. Helga ran off looking for something while they moved into a place where men kneeled on the ground, foreheads touching the ground, muttering the same words.

Floki was already inside, watching them do their strange ritual. Siggy moved around the praying men, watching them as they praised their gods. She passed by without harming anyone, too curious about their beliefs to stop them. Other than Halfdan, who cut off a man's head.

"No more killing! Not in here! Not in this place!" Floki ordered holding them back from harming any more Arabs. "I forbid it. If you want to kill these people, you have to kill me first."

Harald watched Floki for any sign of his joking manner but found none. He stepped back and looked at the men. "You heard what Floki said. We're not going to kill these people. Leave. Leave."

Harald left, but Halfdan stared the boatbuilder down, waiting for either a sign of weakness or an explanation. The man who killed Ragnar's Christian and paid the price, and now he protected some Arabs from the same fate. I Halfdan's eyes, it meant he grew weak.

Siggy slipped by Halfdan's retreating figure and tutted at his sour mood. "These people pray to different gods."

Floki looked at her with hard eyes. "They are devoted; it doesn't matter what gods they pray to. Half of the Vikings we know aren't as devoted."

The blonde took his hand in hers and stared him down for an answer. "Christians are devoted to their god, and I would never hesitate to kill a Christian. And you taught me that neither would you."

"People change."

"Not me."

Floki sniggered and ruffled her bloody matted hair. "If you say so." He walked away, watching the praying people, unbothered by the corpse in front of them. "It was never about faith in the gods for me, and it was faith in Ragnar."

What was so great about that shell of a hero? He was a mass manipulation with charisma and crazy dreams that became a reality. Siggy strived for real things. Like murder and mayhem, no matter where. Fuck what people think; one day, they would rue hating her. Spitting when she walked past would turn to cheering.

Siggy followed Hvitserk into a room filled with mirrors. Stopping by one, she stared into it. Her reflection was strange, and it looked so much how a Viking should, covered in blood and armed with a weapon. Yet it looked nothing like her. Her usually crazy eyes were dull; they looked empty and soulless like Bjorn's do when he is angry.

She snarled and drew her fist back to punch the mirror. A hand clasped her own and tugged her away from the mirror. "Quiet," Rollo ordered, dropping her fist. He mentioned with his head to follow Bjorn and Hvitserk.

Hvitserk engaged in a battle with a man; Siggy rolled her eyes and moved on, confident in Hvitserk's ability to survive. "Watch out!" Rollo called out; the blonde saw Bjorn move in from the corner of her eye.

The reflection behind him showed a bulky man with a small scythe-like blade gaining upon her. She spun on her heel and slashed at his head with her sword. Her attacker was faster, though; he stopped her attack and hit the weapon from her hand. Bjorn moved closer with his ax ready.

Siggy growled at him and slammed her fist into the man's belly. He stumbled back and slashed at her. The unarmed shieldmaiden spun out of the way. Her back hit a mirror, she ran up at him, jumping on top of his back.

The bald man was taller, bulkier, and older than her but stupider. He slammed himself against a mirror, trying to shake her off as she choked him out. He repeatedly kept hitting her against the mirror, hoping she would let her grip slip.

Bjorn slashed at him with his axe; the man moved away. Siggy used the next moment he tried to slam her against the mirror to plant her feet against it instead. She pushed them both off; the man lost balance and faceplanted the ground.

Siggy rolled off him and turned him on his side. He reached for her throat, but the young Vőlva swatted the hand away and pushed her thumbs into his eyes. The man screamed in pain as she squeezed his bald head and pressed his eyes in. He tried to push her off, but Siggy didn't budge.

Bjorn, Rollo, and Hvitserk stood by as Siggy slowly squeezed his head till it cracked like a ripe watermelon. What once was his head was now a mess of bones, brain, and bloody flesh. Siggy still sat on his belly, her hands squeezing the remains of her attacker's head.

She slowly stood up and lifted her gaze from his corpse; she flicked her hand at the ground, the droplets of blood and brain flying off. Her cold expression slowly lifted into a crazy primal smile; she giggled and mock bowed in front of the trio. "I don't need your help."

"Obviously," Rollo commented, pride visible on his face. "Let's move."

They slowly crept into a dark room, Bjorn leading the way with Siggy in the very back. Rollo stopped by a curtain and signaled at Bjorn to walk over. The Ragnarsson opened the curtain, ready to strike down the man if it weren't for Rollo.

"Wait," He mentioned at the open eyes of the guard. "He is already dead. He killed himself."

The men ignored him and moved on; Siggy walked past the man and her uncle with no concern for either. She just cracked a man's skull open; what was a suicidal man to her? She got to find a rag, or else the blood would be a pain to wash off. Obviously, her issues had a bigger value. Maybe because the man was dead and no longer had problems to worry about.

"What do you think he was guarding?" Rollo asked, showing off the key that the dead guard had in his hand. They kicked the now unlocked door in, startling the women hiding behind it. They ran off in fear, the group of men and Siggy walking inside. Hvitserk snickered and Rollo in the shoulder. He was giddy and horny, and honestly, it was so tiring for Siggy. He was like an excited puppy without a leash, and what was she supposed to do? She had no interest in women.

Despite that did she walk in, watching the room from her spot in between Rollo and Bjorn. "Suppose there is nothing for you." Rollo joked, only for her to roll her eyes. She stalked off and pulled a woman up from her cushions. The scared woman shrieked in fright, begging Siggy in a foreign language. Siggy tutted at her, reached for something on the pillow behind her.

Smugly, she held the instrument up for the men and woman to see. "I promised Sigurd an instrument. You do what you want to." With that, she stalked off, leaving the women to their fate. Stealing and murder were one thing; she had no desire to watch them rape, especially if anyone from her blood relations decided to participate.

On her way out, she passed Halfdan and Harald. "Siggy." Halfdan mussed, watching the bloody shieldmaiden pass them by with a lute in her hands. Siggy nodded at them and left the whorehouse. She was too tired for this shit, and her head felt heavy, hands and legs weak.

She let the crowd of singing Vikings push her towards the ships; her eyes are unfocused as the aftermath of her vision set in. Luckily it wasn't the worst vision she had, and it was tiring but not so much that she couldn't make her way back alone.

A slender hand took her by the shoulders and led her forward faster. Siggy's blue eyes trailed up the man's body to see Floki. The boatbuilder made his way up to Helga, who dragged some scared foreigner girl with her. "Helga!"

"Floki!"

"Who is she?" The girl tried to flee, but Helga tugged her back, shushing her while walking behind the other slaves.

"She is an orphan." Her eyes were pleading. Siggy glared down at the small, terrified child.

"So?" Siggy nodded sluggishly. The two already took in one orphan, and that was Siggy. And the girl liked being an only child, and it was nicer that way, with no annoying siblings to snoop around. That was Ivar's job anyway.

"She is the same age as Angrboda. The same age that she would have been." Helga explained, frantically waiting for her husband's approval.

"What do you want to do with her, Helga?"

"I want to take her with us."

The two struggle as Floki tries to pry the girl away, but Helga runs off, leaving her husband and adoptive daughter behind. Floki watched her in disbelief before softly turning to the confused Siggy.

He bent his knees to be her height and cupped her cheeks in his hands. "Did you have a vision?" He, eyes looking for a sign of injury or damage.

"I am alright. We have to let the girl go." She mumbled and stumbled after Helga. Floki watched her try to make her way back before he took her by the elbow and subtly guided her before she tripped and fell.

The next day, Floki left to join the men while Siggy stayed behind with Helga and the hostage. Because that is what Tanaruz was, to Helga, she was a new chance at raising a child. But the reality was that the girl was taken from her home and people and kept close as some sort of symbol. Tanaraz was an orphan because of the Vikings, and now they are forcing her to play house. Siggy pitied the girl.

"Not in front of Tanaruz!" Helga pleaded, hiding the girl's face in her bosom. Siggy sighed and looked up from her work. She stayed behind to talk to the gods, not to babysit Helga and her little prisoner.

Siggy dropped her dagger back into the wooden bowl and rolled her eyes. "I had a vision with Aslaug, and I need to know why. I am going to pray to Odin. Floki stopped me yesterday 'cause I was weak. Now I have enough energy and can't do it because of her."

"Her name is Tanaruz, and she is your sister." Helga insisted, shushing the scared girl. Siggy watched the shaking girl with skin the color of mud. Her eyes trailed back up to Helga, disbelief obvious on her face. "Go out the back of the tent; I will watch."

With a dramatic sigh and eye roll, Siggy stood up and stomped her way outside. She sat on the grass and cut a line down her palm. Slowly she watched the blood drip into the bowl.  Closing her eyes, she whispered the words to praise Odin.

"Hail to Odin, Allfather, breath-giver, seeker of wisdom, seizer of knowledge, a gift for a gift, value for value, pain for insight, all you know well. The sons and daughters of ash and elm call to you, wise one of many names. We give you thanks for our own might, we give you thanks for the gift of will, for choices offered, for the long view taken. Hail to Odin! Hail the wanderer!"

Her mind started to go blank; she dipped her fingers into the pool of blood and dragged them down from her eyes to her chest. The blonde bought the bowl of blood to her pink lips and chugged the red liquid. The iron taste in her mouth made her sigh in satisfaction. Her ears grew deaf, her eyes blind, and her mind blank. Odin heard her prayer and came to answer.

When she came back to consciousness, Helga was sitting by her side on the bed. Tanaruz watched the girl from her spot on the floor, her eyes trailing to the cut on Siggy's hand. "This was one worse than any before." Helga fretted, running to change out the water that she cleaned her face with.

That left Tanaruz and Siggy alone. The two watched each other with wary eyes. Finally, the blonde led in and rose from the bed. She trotted over to the table and drank the whole flagon of water. The sounds as it dropped to the ground startled the poor little girl. Siggy looked at her and threw something her way.

Tanaruz flinched; she hid her face behind her hands and waited for it to kill her. But instead, something hit the ground before her. The girl looked down at the ground from between her small fingers, and there laid an apple.

She looked at Siggy in disbelief; the tall blonde just stared back, another apple in her hand. Not breaking eye contact, Siggy bit into it loudly, the juices running down her chin. She raised her eyebrows at the girl and pointed at the apple.

Tanaruz picked the apple up and slowly took a tiny bite that made Siggy smile. With a finger in front of her lips, Siggy signaled for her to be quiet, and then she left the tent. By the time Helga returned with freshwater, Siggy was gone, and Tanaruz ate the apple. The older blonde sighed but praised Tanaruz for finally eating.

Rollo, Hvitserk, Bjorn, Halfdan, and Harald stood up on a cliff, watching the place they conquered. Siggy climbed up the cliff, the scarf she wrapped around her head whipping in the wind. The cawing of crows followed her like devoted servants. She could feel Odin's presence near, so she let it guide her to the men.

Further up, she could see Hvitserk and Bjorn wander off, probably looking at the crows. Finally, she made her up the hill to meet them. The others turned to face her as well. Rollo looked down at her bandaged hand and frowned. "Did that happen yesterday?"

Hvitserk looked at her and frowned; he knew that vacant look all too well. "Maybe you should rest, no?"

"Your father is dead." She spat, startling everyone present. "Killed by serpents. Cold in the cold, iron earth, Ragnar lies."

Silence fell over them, no one doing anything for a moment. It was like the world stopped. Hvitserk wracked his brain for an explanation why Siggy said those things. But nothing came to his mind. Luckily Bjorn spoke up. "So you heard it too... Odin came to tell us as well."

Siggy walked up to Hvitserk and frowned at him with a bittersweet smile. "Queen Aslaug, daughter of Sigurd and Brynhildr, Princess of Götoland is dead, and her blood is on the hands of the new ruler of Kattegat."

Hvitserk watched her with moist eyes, took her by the shoulders, and shook her. "Did Odin tell you that?!"

Siggy frowned, the cawing stopped, and Odin was gone. She was all alone now, surrounded by power-hungry men in need of answers. "I know what I know, and I said what I said." She hugged him and buried her face into his neck. "I am sorry. I thought she came to me to tell me of Ragnar. If I had known she came to say goodbye."

She pulled back and stared into Bjorn's curious eyes. "Let's return to the camp, and we need to go back." He replied and walked past his blood daughter. Siggy turned to see him go and frowned.

"They will pay in blood for what they have done. Odin said so. Ragnar requested it."

"I know."