[ Book 1 of my "The Last Kingdom" Fanfiction series]
Khaana was a rare find and a wild prized gifted to Earl Ragnar as a slave from a wealthy ruler who once considered her a prized pet.
The Danes have never laid eyes upon a Black African, and figure...
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It had been many months since Uhtred joined the fold with the Danes. He had meshed in well and Khaana now felt it was safe to leave him among them without her protection. He had spent the morning playing with Thyra and was now being sent to work.
Uhtred lead Khaana the Mare back out of her stall, he had just finished brushing her long mane and tail with Brida. Uhtred spotted Ragnarsson as he heard him call for a sword. After seeing his behavior around Khaana the dane was far less scary. "Hey, Ragnar Ragnarsson!" Uhtred called out.
Ragnarsson rolled his eyes a bit in annoyance, the boy had almost taken to being his shadow. He wasn't used to it, and to make it worse he was a saxon. Ragnarsson strode over to Khaana and the boy, he gave her neck a gentle patt. "Hey, Uhtred of...wherever." He called back dryly. Khaana's eyes shinned with amusement causing Ragnarsson to narrow his eyes at her before climbing onto her back.
Uhtred could feel Khaana's amusement, he liked getting on Ragnar the younger's nerves. "Teach me how to use a sword." Uhtred said. Ragnarsson smirked and looked down at the boy "we do not teach slaves how to fight." He mused as if it were a silly notion. Ragnarsson clicked his heels into Khaana's sides to get her moving.
"That tongue of yours will be yoir death boy." Ragnarsson warned as he and Khaana cantered away.
Khaana sat with Ragnarsson in the forest, freely in her natural form. She combed her claw like nails through his hair gently drawing it back to make it ready to tie. He closed his eyes, he'd never dare to tell her how much he enjoyed this. "We've hunted the last Bloodline we could find of the King who took the skies from you An-nana." Said Ragnarsson.
"Who? Where?" She asked her words rushed. She wanted as many of that bloodline slain. No, she not birthed to be a creature of vengence or malice but nor was she holy. Her freedom was torn from her the moment her wings were, in her eyea they all deserved to die and Ragnarsson was only too happy to help.
"The king of Wessex - his brother. We dont have much information as of yet. But father plans on making Wessex his own." Ragnarsson explained. Khaana tied up Ragnarsson's hair, she hesotated for a moment and in the next moment...
Ragnarsson's eyes shot open as he felt her lips press through his hair to his scalp. It made him shiver "what was that for?" He asked, his eyes fluttered as he watched Khaana walk past him and further into the forest.
"Where are you going? Wait- what was that for!" Ragnarsson called, he could almost feel her smirking. Khaana took off in a sprint, dashing through the trees, Ragnarsson made chase. "Catch mee and I may tell you." She called.
The forest was filled with smooth laughter and playful jeering as the two played a game of cat and mouse. "Khaana!" Ragnarsson called for her. She had lost him, though she wasn't far. No, not very far at all. In fact, she was perched in a tree. Khaana peered down at him with a satisfied smirk.
