AN: The mystery woman is based on Etain from Centurion, and I'm aware that the time periods don't match up as there is a few centuries between the events. But I like to think the Scottish were quite brutal and were well-matched against Vikings in their own way. Plus I love Etain and when I started watching Vikings, I couldn't help but pair her up with our favourite psychotic shipbuilder.

So far this is a one-shot, but I am contemplating whether or not to continue and make this a Multi-Chapter story. I suppose it depends on what you guys all think, so reviews would be appreciated! - Alex.

Copyright: I don't own Vikings or Centurion sadly enough.

Salted waves crashed against the armoured bodies that emerged from the water and gradually began to trudge up onto the shore. The skies were painted a furious red as the sun broke over with the call of a new day. The Vikings viewed this as a sign that Odin expected blood to be shed on this ground and they were more than willing to please the Allfather. Ragnar Lothbrok led his men onto the eerily calm coast of this new land they had sailed to, it resembled much of Athelstan's England...though on this raid Ragnar had not only sent his ship East, but also North.

It was on the night of their return from the last raid, where the men and women were met with cheers and humble festivities that Rollo and Erik had mocked how feeble these English men were. Everyone had laughed heartily and agreed that there was no true challenge in fighting the meek soldiers of England. On the continuous ramblings of how weak the English were for allowing themselves to be robbed without much defence, the priest let slip of a neighbouring land where the Clans were filled with warriors near as fierce and brutal as the Vikings.

This had partially silenced the merriment and caught everyone's attention as they looked to the slave as Ragnar pressed Athelstan for more knowledge on these beasts who may rival the likes of themselves. The priest had trembled under the harsh gazes upon him, though went on to describe the land called Scotland and how centuries ago the conquering Romans had fought with the tribes up North and had failed to overrule them, leading them to built Hadrian's Wall to keep the Scots at bay. Athelstan explained that for the longest time the Clans were made of Heathens though now most of the country had fallen to the Christian gospel, yet further up North there were still those who rejected the word of God and chose to worship their own deities. It was they who continued their bloody ancestry away from civilization.

After hearing such stories Ragnar was enraptured with the idea of confronting these Heathens as Athelstan called them. To face them in battle and see if they were as mighty as the legends which preceded them. The crew were also anticipating a glorious fight where their victory was one the Gods could be proud of, one which would give them rightful passage to Valhalla when it was their time to leave this world.

As their footsteps left marks on the soft sand trailing behind them, the group of hulking men and women walked on to find the closest village.

It was not a long into the journey before the Floki began to jump up and down on the spot while clapping his hands frantically in uncontained joy. Stretching out his long arm, he pointed to the smoke streaming through the trees. When looking closer Leif could make out the small village past the forest and out in the open clearing, situated in the dip of the mountains and woodlands surrounding. Ragnar looked to the men and women with a boastful smile.

"Tomorrow at first light we will slaughter these people and take their riches as our own, tomorrow we shall bask in glory!" Ragnar said, receiving a chorus of cheers in reply.

Blood spilled onto the ground as another lifeless body hit nature's damp floor as war cries echoed in the background. The Vikings had descended on the village like a merciless quake which shook the earth beneath them. They soon came to realise that what the priest has spoken of these Heathens had been true. The Clan's people were decked in their own native body paints and furs, the men and women did not even flinch in recoil to the unexpected intrusion. They merely grabbed their own crude weapons in instinct and ran to meet the Vikings head on.

The savage battle had played out for hours as the Scots were a foe that rivalled the Norsemen in a way no others had before them. Even the raids that took place in the Balkans were an easier win to these barbarians who refused to back down. Floki's axe smashed into another man's skull, splintering pieces of the skull as he laughed maniacally while looking round to see his brother warriors gaining the upper hand as arrows pierced bodies and swords slashed flesh. It was the perfect setting of pure carnage that had the shipbuilder dancing with delight. While doing his little jig, Floki's black rimmed eyes caught the figure of a brooding woman who viciously hacked away at Kauko's dead body. Her eyes were as dark as a night without stars and her face had blue markings painted on that contrasted against her pale skin. Floki crept up behind the woman while she was distracted with maiming her newest victim, turning his axe around within his grip Floki then clubbed her in the back of the head with the blunt side, knocking her out.

Night blanketed the skies as the Vikings regained their strength in what was left of the tiny village. They'd already looted what silvers and treasures were left to be had and were now preparing to march onwards to their ship and begin the voyage back home. As Ragnar looked over at the withered and tired faces he thought back to the tedious battle. It was a victory the Gods would drink to, as Rollo, Erik, Arne and the others had fought with their very best. Unfortunately some had fallen, though looking at the enemy it was a grandeur death his friends had faced and now they would be feasting with Thor and Loki in Valhalla. Ragnar's eyes searched out his most trusted companion Floki and at first could not see the madman anywhere in sight, it was on closer inspection that he noticed the usually loud and flamboyant man was tucked into a corner hidden away. Ragnar walked over to the shipbuilder and found Floki shielding a some item.

"Floki, my friend...what is it you hold so tightly, our brothers will not deprive you of your winnings." Ragnar stated as he crouched down to Floki's level. The man in question had a look of mischief on his face and began to chuckle deeply, starting as a low rumble within his chest until he was laughing hysterically and gaining everyone's attention.

"Ragnar it is more than treasure I hold, I hold her so tightly incase she slit my throat and run for she is a wild one." Floki said easily, the amusement never leaving his rough features as his hand stretched out to stroke the mess of black locks wrapped up in his arms. The group moved in closer to see exactly what Floki had chosen to hold so dear. It was Rollo who came to the realisation first and began to unsheathe his sword only to have the madman hiss out threateningly.

Ragnar held up a hand to halt his brother's advancements and looked between Floki , Rollo and the rest of his men. There was an uncertainty in his piercing blue eyes before he slowly stood back up.

"Why do you wish to keep the heathen woman? I fear this lot will be no use as slaves...they resist by nature, you can find a more suited maiden once we return home." Ragnar reasoned optimistically, but his face soon fell as Floki shook his head in reply.

"I want this one." Was all he said, leaving the others greatly confused as it was the first time any of them had witnessed Floki become so passionate over something that wasn't his ship or his trees. Erik came fourth and stared at the younger man for a moment as though he was trying to read him.

"Why her, Floki?" Erik asked, after observing Floki's tight grip on the unconscious woman the older man realized the shipbuilder would not give her up with ease much to his dismay. This foreign woman would cause trouble not only on the voyage, but once they reached home Erik was sure she would not make things simple. A moment's pause passed between them before Floki looked up at his comrades with a most menacing gaze.

"Because she is as sane, as I am!" He grinned, continuing to stroke the midnight curls upon her head.