ASTRID’S POV

The sound of drums and laughter filled the air as our small procession crested the hill overlooking Ragnar’s stronghold. After weeks of travel, imprisonment, and battle, the sight of home made my heart soar with relief and joy. Below us, the familiar wooden buildings and stone walls looked exactly as they had when we left for the royal court all those months ago.

But something was different now. Colorful banners flew from every rooftop, and I could see people moving about in the courtyard, their voices carrying up to us on the evening breeze. There was an energy in the air, a sense of celebration that seemed to pulse with life.

“They’re having a festival,” I said, pointing toward the stronghold where torches blazed and music drifted upward.

Ragnar smiled, the first genuine smile I had seen from him since our rescue. “They’re celebrating our return. Word must have reached them that we were coming home.”

The journey back from the High King’s court had been long and difficult, but it had also been healing in ways I hadn’t expected. Each mile we traveled away from Harald’s realm, each day that passed without pursuit or danger, had helped both of us begin to recover from the trauma of our separation.

Ragnar had barely left my side since pulling me from that terrible cell. He rode beside me during the day, his eyes constantly scanning for threats, and slept next to me at night, his arms wrapped protectively around me. I could see the guilt in his eyes whenever he looked at me, the self-blame for leaving me in Harald’s power, but I was slowly helping him understand that none of what happened was his fault.

My father rode on my other side, his weathered face showing the strain of our ordeal but also deep satisfaction at having his daughter safely back.

The reunion with him had been almost as emotional as the one with Ragnar. I had thought I might never see him again, never have the chance to tell him how much I loved him despite all the pain our separation had caused.

As we approached the gates of the stronghold, people began pouring out to greet us. Warriors I recognized from my time here, servants who had grown to accept me as their lady, women from the village who had become my friends during my work in the healing hut. Their faces were bright with joy and relief, and I could hear them calling out welcomes and blessings.

“Lady Astrid! You’re home!”

“The Wolf has returned!”

“Praise the gods, they’re both safe!”

The gates swung open, and we rode into the courtyard to find it transformed. Long tables had been set up in the open space, groaning under the weight of food and drink. Musicians played lively tunes while people danced and sang. Children ran between the tables, their laughter adding to the joyful chaos.

It was exactly what my heart needed after the darkness of the past weeks. This was home, this was family, this was the life Ragnar and I had built together.

We dismounted near the great hall, and immediately we were surrounded by well-wishers. Bjorn the Red embraced Ragnar like a brother, his scarred face wet with tears of relief. The women of the household gathered around me, touching my hands and face as if to make sure I was real.

The feast that followed was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The great hall was packed with people, all of them eager to hear the story of our adventure and celebrate our safe return. Ragnar told them about the ambush, the betrayal, the desperate journey to the High King’s court. I spoke about my imprisonment and rescue, though I kept the worst details to myself.

Through it all, I felt a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the mead or the fire in the hearth. This was what belonging felt like. This was what it meant to be part of a community that cared about you, that celebrated your joys and mourned your sorrows.

The women insisted I join them in their traditional dances. I protested at first, still feeling weak from my ordeal, but their enthusiasm was infectious. Soon I found myself in the center of a circle, spinning and laughing as they clapped and sang ancient songs of celebration.

The music was intoxicating, the rhythm pounding through my body like a heartbeat. I spun faster and faster, my dress flaring out around me, my hair streaming behind me. For the first time in months, I felt truly free, truly alive, truly happy.

I was laughing at something one of the women had said when the dizziness hit me. The room began to spin independently of my dancing, and I felt the familiar weakness that had plagued me during my imprisonment. The faces around me blurred together, and I heard my own voice as if from a great distance, calling out in confusion.

Then the world went dark, and I was falling.

When I woke up, I was lying on a soft bed in familiar surroundings. My own chamber, with its stone walls and wooden beams, the small window that looked out over the courtyard. Sunlight was streaming through the opening, telling me it was morning, though I had no memory of how I had gotten here.

Ragnar was sitting beside the bed, his face creased with worry but his eyes bright with something that looked like joy. Behind him stood my father, and both men were grinning at me with expressions I couldn’t quite interpret.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice still groggy from sleep. “Why are you both looking at me like that?”

Ragnar took my hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my palm. “How do you feel? Any pain?”

“I’m fine,” I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure that was true. “Just tired. And confused. What’s going on?”

My father stepped forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief and delight. “My dear daughter, you gave us quite a scare when you collapsed. But the healer has examined you, and she’s given us the most wonderful news.”

I looked between them, trying to understand what they were telling me. “What news?”

Ragnar’s grin widened until I thought his face might split in half. “You’re carrying the Wolf’s child. You’re going to be a mother!”

The words hit me like a physical blow. A child? I was pregnant? The strange weakness, the dizziness, the pains in my abdomen that had plagued me during my imprisonment – it all suddenly made sense.

Before I could fully process what this meant, my father was embracing me tightly, his strong arms wrapped around me as tears of joy streamed down his weathered cheeks.

“A grandchild,” he whispered. “After everything we’ve been through, the gods have given us this blessing.”

That’s when I heard it – the sound of drums filling the air, growing louder and more insistent. The door to our chamber burst open, and people poured in, their faces bright with excitement and celebration.

“The Wolf’s heir is on its way!” they sang, their voices raised in joyful chorus. “Ragnar’s junior is on his way!”

The room filled with music and laughter, with people dancing and embracing and calling out blessings for the child I carried. The whole stronghold seemed to be celebrating, their joy infectious and overwhelming.

I turned to Ragnar, seeing the wonder and gratitude in his ice-blue eyes. This man who had seemed so fierce and untouchable when I first met him was now looking at me like I had given him the greatest gift in the world.

He laughed, a sound of pure happiness, and kissed me with a tenderness that made my heart overflow. When we broke apart, he pressed his forehead against mine.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Thank you for everything. For being strong, for surviving, for giving me hope when I thought all was lost. And now this…”

Tears spilled from my eyes, but they were tears of joy, not sorrow. I hugged him back with all the strength I had, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude and the promise of the future we would build together.

Our child. Ragnar’s heir. A new life born from the love that had grown between a captured healer and a Viking king, a love that had survived betrayal and separation and the attempts of enemies to destroy it.

As I held my husband close, listening to the celebration around us and feeling the first stirrings of new life within me, I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, we would face them together. Our story was far from over – it was just beginning.

THE END.