A young woman, appearing about eighteen years or so, sat in the middle of the main road leading to Kattegat with a set of Runes set out before her. With a swift motion she moved her long, brown locks over her shoulder as the wind simultaneously blew with it. A dainty appearing hand bearing far more strength than one would believe touched a particular Rune and she knew – Ragnar was finally making his appearance.

With this confirmed knowledge, she scooped up the Runes and returned them to her pouch before bringing herself to her feet. Now at the metaphorical crossroads of her decision she could either wait for Ragnar in the middle of the road or go on to Kattegat and see the events unfolding there. This pivotal decision could change not only his destiny but hers. The Gods would only allow her to see so much and nothing beyond what they wished. Of course, there was a way to change all that but she refused to go back from whence she came.

As she took in a deep breath and released it, the wind blew all around her. The sound of the wind came like whispers to her ears. She closed her eyes and listened to their guiding words before coming to her decision – She would go to Kattegat.

It was easy to blend in amongst the others in Kattegat. There were so many people it was easy to get lost among the crowd – as was her wish. To have attention brought upon her too early would do no good. The last thing she desired was to meet those who were destined to cross her path too early – there would be time enough for that later. The elaborate Web of Destiny was one she was mightily skilled at dancing upon like a spider upon their own webbing – When the Gods allowed her to see the Web of course.

There was a time she could see and do all among the Web but this was the price she paid to take a different path of Destiny, and for what? - Nothing more than a broken heart. The Gods made sure to keep her from seeing that particular string within her Web as punishment for turning her back on her people. Since then she embraced a part of her nature she suppressed and shielded her heart from any possible pain that could be inflicted upon it in the future.

It did not sit with her well not knowing why the Web directed her to Ragnar. All she knew – all she was allowed to know – was she and Ragnar's paths would cross. He was to play as much a part in her Web of Destiny as she would with his. Of course, anything beyond that was too foggy to see. There were still too many loose threads to make a clear picture. She would have to be patient, something she was very skilled at and yet abhorred being.

Her focus was pulled from the loose strings when Ragnar drove his sword into the ground before him and shouted, "Who wants to be King!"

'This man is truly the King?' she thought to herself with her head tilted to one side. Her searching brown eyes looked him over and over again. Ragnar looked so very much like an old man – which of course was what he was, but still…she could not see him as the man from the stories – as the Viking she had come to learn so much about. What could be so special about this man where her threads and his would weave together?

She slowly made her way through the crowd as Ragnar addressed his sons, asking them if they wished to be King. Elaborate displays such as this – the drama of it all – was a foreign concept to her. Outside of ceremonies she saw no need and yet here was Ragnar putting on a show for all present as he told his sons if they killed him then they would be King. If Ragnar truly wished to die there were certainly far better ways than this, so…what was the point of it all?

It seemed as if Ragnar was about to get his wish for one of his sons to kill him for his eldest…no, wait, it was not his eldest –she soon realized this. His son Ubbe, who approached him in the center of the circle among the crowd, may be his eldest with the Queen but he was not the eldest son. In fact, that son had yet to be seen.

As Ragnar turned around to face Ubbe, she could see the Web of Destiny splaying out in front of her eyes. All the loose threads were swaying in the breeze that was felt by no one but her. Once these loose threads were tethered to the others it would be very hard to alter the path of which they led. Unfortunately she could not see beyond this moment – They fight and one of them dies or they do not battle at all.

Her need to know why her Web was meant to intertwine with Ragnar's dictated her toying with the Web. She tilted her head to the side and raised her hand in front of her. With a slight movement here, and a twitch there, she tethered the strings together to ensure there would be no battle between them and just as she had foreseen among the Web, they embraced instead of fought.

Now Ragnar's eldest arrived in the crowd and pushed himself into the center with Ragnar and his brother. He asked his father, "Why have you come back?" but did not receive an answer and was asked to speak to his father with his brothers elsewhere.

This was a turn of events she had not foreseen among the threads of the Web and once again, that did not sit well with her at all.

While Ragnar went off to speak with his sons away from the eyes and ears of those he previously wished to preform for, a visit needed to be made. The Seer was expecting her arrival and was not surprised to find her presence within his home. "You have made weaves within the Web," was his greeting. "I can feel it in the air."

She stood before him and answered simply enough, "If all men were meant to do as they pleased whenever they pleased then the Gods would not have the power to alter their path."

The Seer laughed at her words. "Coming from the mouth of one who can do as she pleases when it pleases the Gods." He leaned forward from his seat and baited her a bit as he said, "How does it feel to not see every outcome as you once could?"

Her face hardened a bit at her words, making the Seer recoil a bit in his chair. "I may not know all that I once did, but I know when your Web fades away." She raised a hand to make her point and gently poked away at the air, saying, "Shall I bring these events sooner?"

"You would not dare toy with the Web in such a way!" The Seer could not believe the audacity of her and yet he was not surprised.

"I've done far worse to make my point, Seer," she shot back. "Do not mock me."

The Seer took a deep breath before saying, "I knew you would come but I do not know why."

She lowered her hand with a bit of a smug air and smiled as such. "I cannot see why my Web intertwines with Ragnar's. Can you?"

The Seer picked up a pouch of bones and poured them out onto the table in front of him. He looked them over before answering. "Ragnar is just the beginning. He is the first stitch that must be made before the other threads can follow. That is all the Gods will let me see." There was far more to Ragnar's return but those words were not for her ears.

"So much information and yet so little," she scoffed before licking the Seer's hand to leave her offering and left.

The Seer let out a bit of a grumble once she was gone. Her presence upon this earth could mean so many things and none of them were clear to his sight. All the Seer could see was either she would help them rise…or be their downfall. The Web which came to be would be of her own making, whether she was aware of its happening or not. Of this he was certain.

She looked back at the Seer's lodgings and spat upon the ground. "You will get what I feel you deserve, Seer. Mark my words." She turned around to take her leave and barely walked a few steps before Ragnar's eldest son rounded a corner with the desire to see the Seer himself.

She simply bowed her head and looked away to try and keep attention off herself as they passed but this did not work as she had intended.

Bjorn saw the young woman briefly then turned to take a second look. "Wait," he said to her. "You are not from here? Who are you?" He didn't recognize her and thus wanted to know who she was.

She straightened her posture and turned back to face Bjorn. Her first instinct was to give him her name – her real name – one that belonged to her long ago but that was not who she was now, and would likely never be again. And so, she gave Bjorn the first name the whispers spoke within her ear, "I am Ingrid. And, no, I am not from here."

Bjorn looked her over and appreciated what he saw. This Ingrid had a lovely figure and fire behind her brown eyes – this he could see. There was more to her than met the eye and thus she intrigued him. "Welcome to Kattegat, Ingrid."

Ingrid bowed her head in thanks and said as much. "Thank you, Bjorn Ironside." She didn't intend to say anything further but Bjorn's words caused her to stay longer.

"You know who I am?" this just intrigued him all the more.

"Of course," Ingrid replied, smiling a bit. "Anyone who has no knowledge of who you are has not lived." This time when she did walk away, nothing could stop her.

Bjorn had half a mind to follow her but his business with the Seer took precedence. However, that did not mean he wouldn't make an attempt to find her later on.

Ingrid was able to find a place to sleep for the night easily enough. A drunken man took one look at her and instantly wanted to take her to his bed. After another drink or two he was passed out on the floor, leaving the bed for Ingrid. She made sure to leave before he woke and went along with he day.

Exploring Kattegat was certainly an interesting thing to do. She wanted every nook and cranny of this place to be embedded into her mind. The curve of every street, the places, the people, it all etched into her memory. If worse came to worse she wanted to be able to make an escape without worry of hitting a dead end. This mental map of hers was a necessity to her.

Ingrid was making her way around one of the more outskirts areas of Kattegat when she passed a building where grunts and moans could be heard from within. Not one to shame away from a bit of a show – whether her presence was known or not – she took a peek inside through the slats of the barn. She barely had a moment to see who was inside before a voice pulled her away.

"What are you doing?" Ivar asked from his place upon the ground and crawled closer to her. His blue eyes took in her appearance and he found he didn't recognize her. A lovely face such as hers would certainly be one he'd remember.

Ingrid smiled at Ragnar's son and brought a finger to her lips to shush him then pointed inside the barn.

Ivar moved closer and pulled himself up so he too could see the source of the grunts and moans. It wasn't long before the culprits were revealed – Ubbe and a blonde woman whom Ingrid did not recognize.

Ingrid looked at Ivar with a suggestive smile. She leaned down to whisper into his ear, "I have a feeling Ubbe is not the only one of your brothers who takes pleasure with her." She giggled a bit before biting her lip and walking away.

Ivar took his eyes from the inside of the barn and watched her go. Whether it was from what he'd just watched with her and Ingrid herself, he was certainly getting a reaction.

Later that day, Ingrid sat in the forest near the river with her Runes placed in front of her. She had already crossed paths with Bjorn and Ivar but the Seer told her that her path with Ragnar needed to be the first to be weaved before all others. And yet she had no seen him since her first day in Kattegat. "Why must you toy with me so?" Ingrid asked the Gods as she placed her hands upon her Runes. "Can you truly be that bitter?"

The Runes were telling her nothing but nonsense so she scooped them up and placed them in the pouch at her belt. A soft breeze move through the air carrying the laughter of a man and woman. Ingrid turned towards the down and down the river bank on the other side, another of Ragnar's sons could be seen enjoying himself with the same blonde as Ubbe had been with. Oh, she knew she was right about that girl. What an interesting Web she must have – one which Ingrid wished to peruse later on.

Just as Ingrid was about to take her leave she saw another across the river – Ivar. Neither of them moved as they stood looking at each other but finally Ingrid gestured towards the blonde girl and his brother with an 'I told you so' look upon her face. She didn't move from her spot until Ivar left and even then she stayed. Ingrid tried to summon his Web but the Gods would not allow it. Not enough of her threads were tethered to his as of yet to give a clear enough picture. All the Gods would allow her to see were the endless possibilities and they were of no help at all.

With a sigh of frustration she went on her way back towards Kattegat in hope of getting some answers there. Being human, even a human such as she, could certainly be a tiresome affair at times. Alas, it was better than the alternative. Her pride had convinced her of that.

Ingrid barely stepped foot in Kattegat once again before Queen Aslaug approached her. "Queen Aslaug," Ingrid greeted with a bow to her head and looked up as Aslaug walked around her as if she was sizing her up.

"I had a vision about you," Aslaug admitted as she took in her appearance. "The details are not important but my introduction is. Who are you?"

"Ingrid," she replied, the name getting far more familiar to say now. It was starting to truly become her own.

Aslaug stopped in front of her and repeated the name. "Ingrid." Her tone sounded almost doubtful. "I would like to invite you to stay with me as my guest."

"Why?" Ingrid almost laughed. "You know nothing of me."

"I know what I saw, Weaver," Aslaug shot back then sounded more enticing, "You have a talent that could be very useful to me."

"What I do is my own business. As is what I am." Ingrid didn't like Aslaug on sight and wanted nothing to do with her. This was a thread that hadn't presented itself before and she had no intention of weaving it within her Web now.

Aslaug smiled in a most threatening way. "You do not have a choice, Ingrid. You will come with me willingly or by force. I do hope it's not by force."

Before Ingrid could say another word the Web made its appearance before her eyes. She only had two choices in this matter – go with Aslaug and survive or decline and feel Aslaug's bitter wrath. The path of least resistance was the one Ingrid chose and thus reluctantly wove her thread with Aslaug's.

Putting a fake sincere smile upon her face, she said, "It would be an honor, my Queen."

Aslaug smiled smugly because she had gotten her way. "I am most pleased that you see my side. Come along, as of this moment, you are my charge."

Ingrid exhaled deeply and followed behind Aslaug towards the Great Hall. So many changes to her Web and not one of them had anything to do with Ragnar. Then again…perhaps all these did and the picture was still too fuzzy to see it yet.

Ingrid was reluctantly settling into her new quarters when Ivar passed her open door. She stopped what she was doing and looked towards her door to find him back tracking and turning into her room.

"What are you doing here?" Ivar demanded to know.

"Your mother has invited me to stay. It seems she had a vision of me and in that vision I do something to help her," Ingrid replied as she sat down on the edge of her bed. "Have you had her yet?"

Ivar took a moment to process this change of topic. "Had who?"

"The golden haired one." Ingrid leaned back on her arms. "I know for a fact at least two of your brothers have had her. Why should you be the odd one out?"

Ivar scoffed and turned to leave, but stopped to ask, "What is your name?"

"A question many have asked of me," she sighed. "My name is Ingrid. I already know you are Ivar, son of Ragnar Lothbrok." Ingrid bound to her feet. "Now if you could spread the news of my name, I would be in your debt. I'm truly getting tired of being asked." Ingrid sighed again. "There was once a time all knew my name but that time is no more. I must get used to it, I suppose."

Ivar looked at her like she was the most mysterious thing he had ever come across. "Who are you?"

Ingrid knelt down in front of Ivar and smiled. "I already told you – I am Ingrid. Perhaps in time I will tell you my story but that time is not now." She quickly kissed his cheek before getting to her feet once more. Before walking out the door, she said, "If you do end up bedding the girl, let me know. If it pleases you, I would enjoy to watch."

"Why watch? You think it would be a joke?" Ivar's face hardened at the possibility.

"Bedding you would be no joke. I can see you would be able to give them the greatest pleasure or cause the greatest pain – if you find the right one, that is." Ingrid held up her hands a bit as she said, "Who knows, that golden head could be her. I'm afraid I cannot see for sure. Too many loose threads make for a very bad picture."

"Most wouldn't dare to speak to me in such a way," Ivar shot back, not believing her audacity.

"Can you not see?" Ingrid asked innocently then a bit alluringly, "I love to dare." She bit her lip with a giggle before leaving her quarters. These threads may not have been foreseen but Ingrid was certainly enjoying their weave.

As the days passed, Ingrid doubted she would be getting an invitation to watch. Such a pity fore she did enjoy watching almost as much as being the one watched. Ingrid thought about her past with a giggle as she spun around a tree and came to a stop when she found Ivar sitting against another tree nearby. "How long have you been there?"

"Not long," he answered, clearly not happy about something. "What did you mean?"

"I say a lot of things, Ivar, you must be more specific." Ingrid moved over to Ivar and sat down upon the ground in front of him. "What would you like me to clarify?"

Ivar looked conflicted as to whether or not to discuss this with her but he decided to. "You said I had to find the right one whom I could give the greatest pleasure or pain. What does that mean?"

Ingrid had an 'ah' expression upon her face. "The golden head didn't raise you up? Interesting. I could have sworn she did when we watched her and Ubbe together."

"Tell me what you meant!" Ivar seethed this order.

Ingrid leaned forward and got herself on all fours to crawl over him. "It means you need someone as strong, as special, as different as you are to be worthy. Their touch must feel like lightning. Their voice send shivers down your spine. Their breath on your skin like lava through your veins. Did the golden head do this to you?" When Ivar looked away, she had her answer. "You should have invited me to watch," she whispered against his skin. "I could have made things go differently."

Ingrid moved off him with the agility of a feline and went on her way leaving Ivar dealing with his physical reactions to her in her wake.

Ingrid found herself back at the Seer's lodgings with one questions in mind – why has her path not crossed with Ragnar's yet? As soon as she entered, he knew why she had come.

"Hello, Ingrid," the Seer greeted. "The name suits you almost as well as your first."

"Save the talk, Seer, and tell me what I want to know," she demanded of him.

The Seer took in a shaky breath. "You already have your answer, Weaver. Your path has crossed with his – your thread has tethered to his. All the threads which come to place are from that very first stitch." He laughed at her silence. "Or have you forgotten the weave in which you spared Ragnar and his son from battle?"

Ingrid opened her mouth to speak but found no words. She did not think that twitch of the Web was what the Runes had told her of and yet it seems it was exactly that.

The Seer held out his hand for the offering. "You have your answer."

"I have another question," Ingrid countered, not ready to leave her offering. "Ragnar's sons…"

"All but one will be yours," the Seer answered. "How they will be yours I cannot see."

"Which one will be…immune to me?" Ingrid had yet to meet a mere mortal who was immune to her charms and it would be very enlightening to find out whom it would be.

"Perhaps it would be their choice or perhaps it will be yours." The Seer had no more to say to that and extended his hand once more for the offering.

when he spoke.

"Despite what you believe, the Gods have not turned their backs on you. They want you to learn." The Seer was permitted to tell her this.

Ingrid slowly turned her head round to look at him but said nothing. With a twitch of her hand, the Seer moaned in agony before returning to normal. "Do not speak on behalf of the Gods to me in such a way again. If they wish to speak to me, they can do so themselves." Ingrid stormed out of the Seer's lodgings with half a mind to rip his Web apart but kept it intact. He could prove useful in the future but her patience with him was growing thin.

Patience was not only where Ingrid was concerned – If the Gods had a lesson they intended for her to learn then they would certainly need an abundance of patience as well. Her stubbornness and hardened heart would make it mighty hard for their lesson to break through.

It was late when Ingrid walked into the Hall with the intent of getting some ale before venturing off to bed. It was there she found both Ivar and Ragnar sitting upon the thrones.

"We were just talking about you," Ragnar greeted her with an interested smile.

"Oh, were you?" Ingrid was intrigued so she approached them. "Do tell."

"My son wants you to come to England with us," Ragnar replied, not giving his son a chance to answer or alter his words.

Ingrid clasped her hands behind her back and paced in front of them. "Why?"

"My mother tells me you a Weaver. Your talents could be useful to us," Ivar explained, leaving out why he in particular wanted her to join them.

"Your mother told me she wishes to use me for my talents, that I am under her charge." Ingrid looked at them like she was a scared little girl. "You dare to ask me to disobey her?"

Ivar leaned forward and smirked, "Do you dare to do such a thing?"

Ingrid's face changed in a way to give them both a mere inkling of what she was capable of. "Oh, absolutely."

End Episode 1