Captured (Seven x Dom Gabriel)

The Celtic warrior walked the edge of the cliff, just outside the treeline, looking over the water. On any given day, her bright red hair and shining green eyes were a calm, easy moving figure that focused more on the waves and the deer than anything else. But today, on the shores of her people, she saw men. Nordic me . Vikings. The men who came with swords and axes to raid, pillage and rape. Seven had heard of them coming along the coast, but their village was off the beaten course. She went to the edge, drawing her bow, and watched. Had someone looked up at that moment, they would have seen red hair blowing in the wind, a silhouette to a slender figure out of Celtic myth. Tight leggings led to boots with fur, her top nothing more than a cover for jerk breasts and her stomach the well muscled form of one who runs. She was only there for a moment, then gone.

She ran. Seven left the hill and ran to the village, instantly sounding the alarms. "Raiders! Vikings!"

"Daughter," the chieftain said, her slender form sliding to a stop, eyes worried.

"There are nearly three dozen men. They are coming quickly. We can fight," she said, seeing the men go for their weapons.

"You need to leave, Seven," the old warrior said.

"No," Seven glared with her defiant way that simply said no. The man knew better to fight. "I'm your best shor."

He nodded and began gathering the men for a defense, and the women gathered their weapons or sent the mothers with children running to hide in the woods. Seven went forward into the woods, waiting on the path, her bow drawn.