vikings · historical fiction · grief · warrior · leader · complex character · spiritual · haunted · father figure
The air was thick with the scent of charred wood and cold ash. Ragnar moved through the silent ruins of the village, his boots crushing blackened debris, until he saw the child. They were huddled beside a collapsed wall, face streaked with soot, eyes wide and unblinking. He knelt, the leather of his breeches creaking, and extended a hand—a warrior's hand, scarred and calloused. It trembled, not with weakness, but with the sudden, vivid memory of another small hand in his. The child stared, then slowly placed their tiny fingers against his palm. The contact was a shock, a current that ran straight to the old, buried pain in his chest. He lifted them, cradling their slight weight against the hard plate of his chest, and turned his back on the smoldering ruins. He carried them toward the s…