"Close your eyes."

Young Kari tried not to smile too eagerly at the thought of her first kiss. She had been dreaming of it ever since she had learned the meaning of it.

True love. A beautiful thing. A love so powerful that it can stir sturdy ships to the wrong direction. A love that can make you stray from the path you originally set yourself on.

Kari furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when nothing came. Her eyes flickered open and what joy she felt was replaced by anger and disappointment.

Gareth, the boy who was suppose to kiss her was laughing. He was surrounded by the rest of his friends, all of them. All of them were laughing at her.

"I told you I could do it." Gareth bragged to the rest of the boys. "I told you I could get her to believe that I wanted to kiss her."

"Who would want to kiss a bastard girl?" Another jeered, cackling.

Kari could only frown, biting her lip to prevent the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"Maybe I can have a kiss now. She's pretty enough for that. Maybe a little bit more than a kiss." Gareth offered, stepping towards her with a drive in his step.

Kari curled her lip before forming a fist and, with all her might, punched the boy so hard his nose started spurting out blood.

He cried out in shock before looking at her with what could only be explained by horror.

"If you're going to stick your cock somewhere, stick it in one of your horses, you little shit." Kari sneered before baring her teeth to the other boys.

They all ran away, screaming. "Devil! She's the devil! It's the barbarian in her blood!"

When they had all gone and left, Kari kicked at the ground.

What a fool. It is not as if he would have truly liked her, he never would. None of them would.

The worst part was that it was not even her fault.

If her mother had been a good Christian, this would never have happened. If she had not attempted to leave the home she had known then she would never have been pregnant.

Kari would never have had to suffer this. She would never have to feel like an outcast wherever she went, she would never have to fear the taunting and laughter of other children, she would never have to pretend not to hear the made up stories about her and her mother.

After all, she was not a monster. She was just a daughter of a man who left. A man who was not even a Christian. A man not of this land.

Wiping the tears that slipped from her eyes, she sniffed before stomping her way towards home, fully composed. The cold shaking her being.

A farming village with a few families, some animals, some crops. A small town full of small minded people.

Arriving at the home where her and her mother resided in, Kari called out. "Mother! I am home!"

Hearing nothing but silence, she shrugged moving towards the small kitchen. It was not out of the ordinary that her mother was usually busy with one thing or the other.

After being left behind, used and discarded by the men in her life, her mother had not been the same.

Kari's own father was one of those men. Not that she ever met the man. She did not even know of his name. Only knew that he was a viking.

"Mother!" She called out once again, but just like before, no reply came.

Beginning to worry, Kari stepped in the direction of the small bedroom that her and her mother shared.

The pungent smell hit her nose first but it was the trail of blood that stopped her in her steps.

Holding her breath, she pushed the door open and immediately fell to her knees at the sight before her.

It was her mother. But at the same time, it wasn't. The woman before Kari could not be her mother. Her mother was alive.

But as she spotted the familiar gold hair and the wide green eyes, unseeing. The life absent from them. The blood almost dried out, though there was a stream flowing from the open cut at her neck.

That was when Kari knew. Her mother was dead.

The scream was lodged in her throat, as if she could not quite release it. Her eyes moved anywhere else, anywhere other than for the scene of death before her.

Her sight fell upon the knife still in her mother's hand and the note beside it.

Careful not to touch the blood, she picked up the small piece of parchment, only for a piece of metal to hit the floor.

It was a small thing. A pendant in the shape of a stag's horns and a sword at the same time. Kari inspected it with a grim look before opening the note.

Kari,

My sweet, pure little girl. You brought me more joy than I could ever have hoped for. I begged your father to take me with him to his lands and he refused. I thought that if I had you, he would take me with him but he did not. You deserve answers. I only give you his name for hope that you will not spend your life looking for him. Ragnar Lothbrok is his name.

I thought he was my only choice to be away from here. I was wrong.

Be happy, my pure. Do not be like me.

As those lingering words echoed in her mind, as her father's name reflected back at her she clutched the pendant tighter and tighter in her fist, savoring the sharp edges digging into her palm.

All the while making promises to herself that she would never be like her mother.

She would be strong. She would be brave. She would not wait for someone who will never come.

Little did she know, he was already coming.

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