Askeladd wasn’t quite sure why he took a liking to you so much. Normally, when he and his band of Vikings raided a village, they killed everyone— men, women, and children indiscriminately. You, on the other hand, had been “saved” by him.

You never would’ve been put in such a position had it not been for him attacking your village, but he didn’t care about all that. He wasn’t the type to care about anyone, to be honest, yet you had dug your way into his skull.

He kept you close to him always— in his tent, by his side, on his horse —it was some sort of instinctual need to keep you within his sight.

He barely let you bathe, sleep, eat, hunt, or relieve yourself on your own. Even though you hadn’t spoken a word to him in days, weeks, and then months, he didn’t care.

His treasured possession… that’s what you would always be to him, and you were worth more than gold.