#(side eyes towards Leif)

[hana-bobo-finch]

live Nelle reaction

[fantasydreamland]

New Friend

leif eriksson x fem reader

Summary: You quickly become good friends with a man you have just met. His crew is set out for battle and in need of your healing skills. As you accompany them on the journey you grow even closer to your new friend.

Notes: 18+ only!!! Mostly fluff, some smut, some spoilers kinda, mini chapters

word count: 3607

masterlist

Chapter 1

“Who is that?” Leif asks Freydis, staring toward the ships docking.

“I do not know. It looks like a returning merchant ship.” Freydis responds. “Why?”

Leif shrugs in response and walks off stealing glances in your direction. He watches you from the other side of the dock and when your bright (e/c) eyes connect with his he doesn’t look away. It surprises him when you hold the eye contact and give him a bashful smile. He smiles back before you turn away continuing on with unloading the boat.

Later that night there is a feast in the main hall. The room bustles with loud conversation and laughter as everyone enjoys their food and drink. Leif occasionally glances around the room in search of you.

“Who are you looking for?” Freydis asks.

“What?” Leif says caught off guard. “No one.” He shrugs and looks down as he eats his food.

The night goes on and the tables become less crowded as the ale puts to sleep those who over indulged. Leif finally notices you on the opposite side of the hall. He frowns when he sees you sitting alone looking tired and sad.

“Excuse me.” Leif says to the table before getting up.

He casually wanders his way over to you. Your eyes meet his as he cautiously approaches the table and sits across from you. You look at him with a confused smile and questioning eyes.

“Hi.” He finally says. “I’m Leif. Eriksson.”

“Hi.” You smile. “(y/n).”

He gently shakes your hand, your soft fingers brushing against his calloused ones.

“You looked so lonely over here.” He says almost as a question. “I felt I needed to come and check on you.”

“Well, thank you sir.” You smile even warmer at him.

Your smile made his heart swell. He nearly missed what you said next because he was so hypnotized by it.

“My supper companions… have found company for the night.” You say jokingly rolling your eyes.

“Are you merchants?” He asks.

“Better healer than a tradesman I’m afraid. But I travel with the merchants usually. It’s a good way to see some of the world, and they are always in need of a healer.” You instantly begin to open up to him, not really understanding why.

“So you are from Kattegat then?”

“Yes, I was born here. My mother died of illness not long ago… I never knew my father. It will always be home but I want to go out and live my life, you know? We only have so much of it…”

You take a sip of your drink to hide your blush when you realize you’re over sharing to this total stranger.

“I am sorry to hear about your mother.” He places a hand on yours.

You simply nod in response as you choke back the incoming tears.

“So, where are you from?” You ask him, desperately wanting to change the topic.

“Greenland.” He simply says.

“What brings you to Kattegat?”

“I am just passing through.” He lightly shrugs.

“Oh? And how long are you staying?”

“We leave in two days.”

You try to hide your slight disappointment but Leif notices the change in your face.

“We… are in need of a healer.” He suggests. “If you would be willing to come.”

“Where are we going?” You phrase the question as if you’ve already decided.

“That is um… complicated. It would be best if you did not know.” He hesitates.

“Ok…” You furrow your brows at him. “Is it far?”

“No. Not far at all. We are traveling by foot but we also have some horses. Myself and a small crew. It should only take us a few days to get there.”

“Ok… and why are we going to this mysterious place that I shall not know of?” You ask, your expression unreadable.

“There is a battle to be had…” He says lowly.

“Ok…” You say once again. “…and what is this battle?”

“It um- would be best if you did not know that either.” He knew how it all sounded so he did not expect your next words.

“Well… in that case I better go and sleep off this ale. If there is to be a battle, I have much to prepare before we depart.” You say as you stand from the table.

“I- uh- ok. Ok great.” Leif says in surprise. “I can walk you to your house?”

You nod with a smile and take his arm before leaving the hall. Leif makes light conversation with you as you walk the short path to your small house. Your arm fits around his so comfortably but the feeling makes your cheeks burn. You let go once you arrive at your door.

“Goodnight then, Greenlander.” You smile. “I shall see you in the morning?”

“Yes. Yes, see you in the morning.” He smiles back. “Goodnight, (y/n).”

—

Chapter 2

You meet with Leif the next morning and he introduces you to the small crew.

“This is Harald Siguredsson… And my sister, Freydis Eriksdotter.”

You get acquainted with everyone as they welcome you warmly. You discuss medicines and other things you may need for the travels. Leif keeps his eyes firmly on you as you talk with the others but you pretend not to notice.

“I shall see all of you tomorrow then.” You say to the group once you’re finished, eyes lingering on Leif.

They say their goodbyes but Leif catches up to you as you turn away.

“Do you need help with preparing anything?”

You smile warmly at him and nod. “I could certainly use some help, yes.”

You walk back to your house and Leif follows you inside. He looks around your small but cozy space. The small kitchen has a large table in the corner covered in different herbs and flowers and multiple mortars scattered about it. There was curtains hanging in the doorway to a small bedroom. Through the crack he caught a glimpse of your bed and a tub in the corner. You begin to organize the messy table as you make your preparations.

“What can I do?” Leif walks over to you.

You smile up at him. Each time you smiled at him it made his heart skip a beat. You hand him a mortar and pestle along with some plants.

“I need you to grind these up for me. As fine as you can please, the leafs will start to form a paste.”

He simply nods and begins crushing the herbs before him. As you both work with busy hands you ask more about him and his life and he tells you of Greenland and of his family. He then asks you about yours and you tell him how you grew up on a small farm at the edges of Kattegat with your mother. She taught you all about plants and healing mixtures. After she died you moved to a smaller place and began the occasional travel with the merchants, making coin with your healing skills. You enjoyed the escape but you always returned home.

It felt oddly comfortable to open up to Leif. The conversation seemed to flow between you like you had known each other for years.

“When did she die?” Leif asks.

Your hands pause and you frown looking down.

“6 months ago.” You choke out as you hold back tears.

“I am sorry…” He places his hand over yours.

Tears still in your eyes, you give him a soft smile and squeeze his hand in response before resuming your preparations. After that you mostly work in comfortable silence, occasionally giving Leif a new plant to grind and him asking questions about what they do. Then there were the silent glances and smiles that made your heart beat a little faster.

Once everything was finally prepared the sun had begun to set. You say goodnight to each other as Leif gets ready to head back to the inn.

“Thank you so much for your help today.” You say as he stands in the open doorway. “You have helped me more than you know.”

“Anytime.” He simply smiles and heads out the door. “See you tomorrow!” He calls behind him.

“See you.” You say under your breath.

—

Chapter 3

The next morning you wake and gather up your things for the trip. You walk down to the inn that the majority of the crew were staying at. You see Freydis outside and she waves you over with a smile.

“Good morning!” She smiles as she grabs your bags from you and hands them to another man loading the cart.

“Thank you.” You smile. “And good morning.”

You see the whole crew on the move preparing for the trip. Until someone was sick or wounded there was not much else for you to do.

“Can I do anything to help?” You ask Freydis.

“Hmm, uh, yes actually! Can you go and wake Leif?” She asks. “He is still sleeping and we are leaving soon.”

“Uh, yes sure.” You nod.

“Thank you, he is in room 3.” She gestures her head to the inn. “Down the hall, last door on the left. Please be quick about it we are almost ready.”

You nod again and quickly make your way into the inn and find room 3 down the hall. You fully expected Leif to be asleep in his bed so you open the door knocking lightly. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see him standing there shirtless. Your eyes quickly trace over the tattoos on his muscular back before he turns around and notices you. You catch a glimpse of his bare hips as he pulls his pants up. Your eyes dart back up to his questioning ones. You have to focus to stop your eyes from wandering back down to where his hands were lacing up his pants, also bringing attention to his toned abs.

“I- uh. Sorry. We- uh. Um. We- uh.” The heat rises in your cheeks as you stand there feeling like a stuttering idiot.

You clear your throat and finally get the words out. “We are leaving…”

“Ok, I am ready. I was just getting dressed.” He says nonchalantly as he pulls his shirt over his head, clearly not noticing how flustered you are.

You follow him out of the building and join the rest of the group as you head off for the journey.

—

Chapter 4

You walk all day with the group, sharing stories and laughs along the way. Considering you did not know where you were going or what battle awaited them you felt safe with your companions.

Once the sun begins to set you find a spot to camp for the night. You eat supper around the campfire chatting away to Freydis sitting beside you. Occasionally you would catch Leif watching you from across the fire.

The temperature drops as the night gets later. Everyone begins to say their goodnights and retreat to their tents. Soon you and Leif are left alone sitting across each other. Your eyes meet in glances causing a soft smile from Leif. You stare back into the fire to hide your blushing. Shivering a little, you pull your cloak tighter around yourself.

“You look cold.” Leif breaks the silence.

“How observant of you.” You playfully tease. “That would be because I am.”

“Why don’t you come over here? We can keep each other warm.” He smiles.

You meet his eyes for a moment before crawling around the fire and cuddling up beside him as he wraps his arm around you. The heat radiating from his body warms you instantly. You both sit in comfortable silence looking into the fire. After a moment he rests his head on top of yours making your heart swell. As soon as you rest your eyes you began to drift off to sleep. Leif could feel your body beginning to go limp and held you tighter.

“Hey…” He whispers to you as you wake again. “Why don’t you go and get some sleep? I’ll help you to your tent.”

“I am fine.” You say shaking off your sleepiness. You did not want to go back to your cold tent alone you just wanted to remain in his warm arms.

“Do you not want to sleep?” He pulls back to raise his eyebrow at you.

“I just want to remain here with you.” You sheepishly admit.

Leif can’t help the wide grin that comes to his face.

“Well, we cannot sleep out here in the cold.” He begins to move to stand.

“Leif-“ You grab his arm, making him sit back down.

His confused eyes meet yours but then soften when he understands the unspoken words behind your eyes while you stare deeply into his.

He leans towards you, eyes briefly glancing to your lips. He moves at a pace that causes the anticipation to ache in your chest. Finally, his lips brush against yours in a soft tender kiss. You could feel the sparks the second your lips touched like fireworks had just gone off inside you both. He pulls away softly and smiles to you before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“We should get some sleep. We could continue to keep each other warm?” He says standing up and holding his hand out to you.

You nod and take his hand as he pulls you up to stand. He continues to hold onto your hand as he leads you to his tent, which was slightly larger than yours.

Once inside you shed your cloak and top layers, placing them in the corner. Leif does the same until you are both left in your thin shirts and bottoms. You crawl under the furs and cuddle up to him for warmth. He pulls you in close, wrapping both his strong arms tightly around you. Your heart races as his embrace feels so unfamiliar yet so comfortable. You close your eyes to sleep. He kisses the top of your head causing a smile to form on your lips. His steady heartbeat thumping against your ear causes you to quickly drift off into a peaceful sleep, more peaceful than either of you have had in a long time.

The next morning you throw the rest of your clothing back on and crawl out of Leif’s tent after your bladder had woken you up. You jump when your eyes are met by a single Viking already starting up the morning fire. Harald gives you a knowing smirk and raises his brow at you, glancing between you and Leif’s tent. You give him an embarrassed smile before you hurry away into the woods.

—

Chapter 5

You and Leif had not had a moment to speak alone as you traveled with the group for most of the day. You did not think you were acting any different but the others could sense something had shifted. When you finally stop to make camp you suggest that you and Leif should try to find some fish at the nearby river.

“How did you sleep?” Leif asks as you walk together.

“Very well.” You smile at him. “And you?”

“Very well.” He smiles back.

“I believe I can take some credit for your peaceful sleep.” You wink.

“I suppose I could do the same.” He smirks.

“I have never met anyone quite like you Greenlander.” You smile adoringly.

“I have never met anyone quite like you, (y/n). I think I-“ He pauses.

“What?” You turn to him as you both stop walking.

“I think I am in love with you.” He admits.

“Leif-“

Before you can respond he boldly grabs your face and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You freeze for a moment of surprise before relaxing against him and throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss continues and his tongue slips in to gently caress yours. He is gentle and passionate and all you can think is how you love this man too.

“Leif…” You whisper when your lips part.

Your eyes meet and he looks at you with pure adoration.

“We have fish to catch…” You say and he nods removing his hands from your face.

“And…” You move your hand to brush his cheek with your thumb. “I think I am in love with you too.”

He grins widely and places another quick kiss to your lips. You hold his hand as you make your way to the river to catch some fish for supper.

—

Chapter 6

As soon as the sun began to rise so did the crew. You rush around with them as they pack up camp. They needed to continue traveling as soon as possible, they planned to reach the battle today.

They soon stop again to make one last camp in preparation for the battle. You had a tent set up with a large work table and you begin to prepare everything you may need following the fight.

Leif steps into your tent to say goodbye. He quickly cups your cheeks and gives a firm kiss to your lips. You pull him close as you kiss him back.

“Please do not die.” You whisper as your thumb strokes the hand on your face.

“I will do my best.” He places a final kiss to your forehead and walks out of the tent. He could not bear spending long to say goodbye to you knowing it could be the last time.

-

You had been pacing for hours now waiting for everyone to return from the battle. Waiting for Leif to return. The more time that passes the more you worry. There was a very real chance he may never return. A very real chance he had been killed. The thoughts swirl around in your mind and cause your chest to tighten.

Finally, you hear the commotion outside of people returning. You run out and desperately search around for Leif. You spot the rest of your crew and your heart sinks. You begin to walk over to Freydis but before she spots you a hand grabs your shoulder. You spin around to see Leif standing behind you shirtless, covered in blood and dirt, with wild messy hair. His face expressionless.

“Oh Leif!” You throw your arms around him not caring about the blood now staining your clothes. “I was so worried I had lost you for good… Are you hurt?” You pull back and examine him frantically for any noticeable wounds.

“I am fine. Can we go inside?” He says flatly.

You raise a brow at his tone but then nod and follow him into the tent. Once the curtains are shut you turn to Leif.

“Are you alright?” You barely get the words out before his lips are on yours, pulling you into a ferocious kiss that takes your breath away.

“No.” He mumbles against your lips. “There were moments… I thought I would never… see you again.” He says between kisses.

He cups your face and kisses you hungrily like a starved animal. The air is filled with a mountain of different emotions as you kiss him back with a burning passion. His tongue demands entrance and you happily oblige. The metallic taste of the blood on his lips makes you pull him closer to you, the fear of nearly losing him today too much to bear.

Suddenly he lifts you up and throws you down onto the table causing a bunch of things to clatter to the ground. You pay no attention to the fallen items as he starts kissing and nipping at your neck. You feel his hardness pushing against your core and it lights a fire within you. Your hands wander all over each other as your lips connect again. You run your fingers over his bloody chest and strong biceps as he moves to grab your breasts through your shirt.

As things become more heated you begin to tear at each other’s clothes. He shoves your skirts up to your hips and grinds harder against you, making you gasp into his mouth. He begins pulling the laces of your top as you frantically fumble with the strings of his pants. Your body felt electric from how desperately you needed him right now. Your mind was completely blurred by the feeling him.

Before you could get any further Freydis bursts into the tent startling you both.

“Oh… I- uh- I am sorry…” She stutters in surprise. “But we uh- need our healer out here.”

“Yes, of course of course. Apologies...” You quickly scramble to your feet and straighten yourself out.

Freydis gives you a nod and a knowing smirk to Leif before leaving the tent. You turn to Leif who’s now holding a damp rag. He gently wipes off the bit of blood from your face and neck. It was a sweet gesture although you knew you would be covered in blood again in a moment once you helped the wounded. His eyes meet yours and he smiles down at you before kissing your forehead.

“Go on.” He gestures his head to outside.

“I am so glad you are alive and safe.” You grab his hands and kiss his lips once more.

He did not need to respond for you to know exactly how he felt. You smile and gaze lovingly at each other before you move to gather your supplies, including those now on the floor, and exit the tent. You tried not to let the overwhelming thoughts of him cloud your mind while you worked. You could not help but count the minutes until you could have privacy with him tonight.

[shinjisdone]

To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 4)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors. Though it is more difficult than anyone can could ever imagine…

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet and crawl your way into Thorfinn’s heart (based on season 1; both platonic and romantic)]

Part 1 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 14 and how he is at that age

Part 2 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 16/17 + headcanons of growing closer (slightly following s1 story)

Part 3 is here - blooming friendship with Thorfinn (slightly following s1 story)

Part 5.1 is here - sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 5.2 is here - other seet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 6 is here - Becoming Canute's guard while Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

Part 7 is here - Canute grieving over Ragnar and Thorkell catching up; Thorfinn leaves you alone for revenge

Part 8 is here - Thorfinn wins against Thorkell; Questioning your bond with Thorfinn

Part 9 is here - Meeting Leif and Thorfinn dueling Askeladd; Losing while Askeladd told him the truth of his constant losses

Part 10 is here - Thorfinn and you bound by heart; Promises of Vinland broken and abandoned

[Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Only mentioned and used as examples. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: Attempted murder (at you), protective Thorfinn (slightly injured, you'll be okay though), and small headcanons of the aftermath (Thorfinn imagining what would happen if you did die).]

Anyone, Everyone I will Crush Them All...

Thorfinn felt even better in the morning. You were being so considerate to him after last night, at least in a way to not make it obvious to the other bandmates.

But Askeladd wasnt like the others...man got a brain inside that skull.

You stuck by Thorfinn, often glimpsed at him to check on his well-being, talked when something was directed at the both of you.

And if that change wasn't obvious enough, then sharing the same camp, food and pain certainly was. It was interesting to watch this flower bloom.

Anything that touched ones heart can be a drive and a weakness at the same time.

It was only a matter of time. The prince was within arm's reach, just behind the smoke of the wildfire and Thorkell's army.

Thorfinn is truly perfect. Stubborn and foolish, he follows every command as long as he can duel Askeladd in return. Without any hesitation, he buckles up on his horse, lets himself be soaked in water and storm blindly into the enemie's territory all alone. What a perfect tool.

And what a sweet, sweet and perfect opportunity this is.

Askeladd stands on a higher point at the outskirts to 'get a better look at things', he claims. The man stands behind you, tall with his hands on his hips as he watches Thorfinn, with the latter glaring at him in return.

Good.

One hand slides down to the hilt of his sword before raising it. Tilting it to the side, he aimed for your neck.

Thorfinn's eyes widened while you stayed ignorant of what's to come.

The horse brayed in pain as the blonde almost snapped the rein back, pulling towards him and steering it back. Watching Thorfinn's face twist into one of rage, you turned around to see Askeladd's blade coming down for your neck.

With a scream, you stumble as you are yanked back and Askeladd withdrew his sword before the young man could harm him. Thorfinn lets go of your collar as he stands between you and the man.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?!"

More questions are thrown but Askeladd stays unnervingly calm. He clicks his tongue and waves his finger down to the massacre below. Thorfinn should better hurry up.

Seething with his nosetrills flared up and teeth gritted, he snapped his eyes between him and the battle, back to back. Unintelligable grunts leave him and he grabbed your arm (or a fistful of your collar) and hoisted you up with him on his horse - desperately quickly, rough and without explanation.

Your weapon almost slipped out of your hand, feeling too distraught to really focus and the many battle cries around you didn't help.

In fact, you were no help at all. Thorfinn trampled down men that stood in his way and dragged you off it with him as he stood defensively in front of the prince and his soldiers. One hand tilted his dagger upward so he wouldn't scrape you as he once again yanked you behind him.

He is not going to leave you alone with...that senile, old bastard!

What the hell even was that?!

Trying to kill your own bandmate - no, you weren't part of these brutes, you were just following orders for your own benefit but never did you do anything that deserves to have your head chopped off! What was that supposed to be?! How is this of any help?!

He may have hauled you right into the battlefield, in the eye of the storm, in the smoke where out of all people, Thorkell is waiting...but you are safer here.

You are safer with him.

Thank goodness that for whatever reason Thorkell the Tall did not want to fight. His reasonings made no sense nor did you want to understand a monster like him as long as you did not need to battle him...you couldnt deny your relieve despite the stressful ordeal.

The prince seemed unharmed but Thorfinn couldn't care less. He was half-heartedly listening to the retainer and Askeladd (while biting bis tongue on what the hell he did right before the battle) as he kept on glancing to you - until the glances turned to straight up holding onto your shoulders as you were the one harmed. It may have happened due to Askeladd's trick or during the battle or maybe even Thorfinn himself inadvertently hurt you. It's hard to tell after the storm passed but your injury remained.

Thorfinn WILL say something. He would have no qualms about interrupting Askeladd's deal of protecting the prince right then and there or he might say something after that first. Maybe the both of you are on the boat at the back - like you usually are - but instead of talking or joking, you're clinging to your side. It isn't fatal but the fact that it happened through such circumstances is what's getting to the blonde.

"ASKELADD!!!" A ear-piercing scream made the prince and his soldiers jump while said person barely turned around. You're sitting, laying, enduring the pain at the back of the boat as Thorfinn was hunched by your side with his hands balled into fists, teeth gritting. The older man hasn't seen him so angry in years.

"What was the point of that?!" Thorfinn would yell out while Askeladd wouldn't even reply. A mere shoulder shrug or, if he feels like it, an excuse of 'You saw that wrong' or 'My hand slipped' would be all he'd get.

This would anger him more.

No, it's just not 'anger'. The pounding fear he felt when you were just about to be beheaded rooted itself in his heart and irrational fury was born from it. The blonde is confused and scared. Nothing that the leader did made any sense and...he was endangering you. The only thing clear in his mind is that this bastard tried to kill you!

Askeladd tried to kill you! The murderer of his father tried to kill you!

There was no turning back now. Even as empty-headed as the other men are, they notice the harsh shift in the boy's behavior and attempt to calm him down - some are at least, the other (still very oblivious) ones keep asking what the hell the kid's so getting worked up for. You're still alive and it isn't fatal. Give the wound a few days rest and it'll turn into a nice scar.

It's even more troublesome when the band doesn't even know why he's so upset. Due to the smoke and their high trust in Askeladd's leadership, none would think he would ever attempt to kill one of his bandmates (hee hee, if only they knew).

'C'mon, lad, don't be like that', 'You're making a ruckus, we just got the prince', they'd say and if any of them dared to approach with open palms, Thorfinn would be quick to draw out his dagger and throw it at the closest one.

"Don't you dare go near them!"

The men grow uneasy but decide to let you two be. Askeladd hides his little smirk while the prince is wondering what he got into and if it was really worth it.

Thorfinn is too distraught, too furious and too emotional to notice his care for you but his actions made it crystal-clear to everyone. None of the danish soldiers thought that vikings would care so much for each other, especially such young ones.

Not like he can afford to ponder about that now. You're hurt and he needs to patch you up somehow - which he does, poorly so as it is evident from his own scarred body. He isn't quite good at taking care of himself, let alone someone else (he realizes he needs to learn it).

Would let none and I mean, none go near you to tend to you. Thorfinn is just decent at taking care of wounds, only enough to not die from them. Even if it were someone as honest as Björn or a danish doctor on board with the prince, he wouldn't let them. Not after that stunt from Askeladd. Thorfinn's distrust blossomed anew.

No. He will take care of you himself.

During the trip the blonde is hostile if he has to interact with anyone. His entire attention is on you even after he patched up, even if you told him you're fine.

Thorfinn can try as he may but if he were to deny his overprotectiveness of you, no one would believe him. Though, he is being too irrational at the moment that no one wants to talk to him anyway, including you.

If you are distraught yourself, the both of you are quiet but close with Thorfinn keeping his eye on you. He'd do the same if you were angry yourself.

If there is just a hint of sadness or even a tear leaking from your eye (but not falling. You swiftly wipe it off, you can't afford to cry here among vikings. Either it's only going to make you feel worse or you will lose all respect and reputation of the band), Thorfinn would absolutely be pissed. He isn't even thinking of shushing you for crying but instead his anger at Askeladd would only grow. It can't be described.

The son of Thors can't think straight. Everything was going fine until for some reason Askeladd, that bastard, that murderer, was...thinking of beheading you. Why? Why? What was the point of that?

It makes no sense. What's the point in killing someone like you? And the man just looked at him, leered at him with that damned smirk, toying with him, toying with you and now is just sitting there, having captured the prince and...!

He keeps on getting away with this.

First his father...now you.

No. No, he won't.

Thorfinn doesn't realize it. He won't ever admit it to himself because he isn't aware of it, but he doesn't want you to die. Thorfinn didn't want you to die.

Just the thought of it...which he would repress whenever he could, is just...awful. Imagining your body dismembered on the battlefield like the thousands of men he killed is an awful thought to have. That's all he knows.

The young man is hostile through and through. All of this happened in the span of a few hours and he is just expected to be over it?! To turn a blind eye because 'it didn't happen the way he thought' and that your injury isn't 'that bad. You probably were just careless'.

Oh, no. Fuck that.

The mercaneries were able to shake of Thorkell's army long enough to rest for a bit. Night came but that didn't mean they couldn't take their chances when it came to a monster like that. Let the prince rest and calm down and then keep on marching.

With you in tow Thorfinn made sure to stay far, far, far away from the other men, even preferring to sleep deep within a forest, as long as Askeladd can't spy on him with his ugly mug. He is too pissed off to really care about the other dangers lurking around.

Even if you started to feel better after the few hours, for the very first time, Thorfinn will insist on doing everything. He is going to get food, he is going to set up a fire, he is going to keep watch and you are going to rest.

Don't get it wrong though, he isn't saying it in a nice way. While he won't yell or grab you, he is going to sternly order you to stay right there and sleep. Don't even think of being of any help, the way that you are now, you won't be any, anyhow.

He's definitely going to literally look down at you and point his finger at you while saying this.

So, he does as he claimed. Food, warmth and protection are all brought and done by him as he sits close to you.

You're the only one wrapped up in a blanket as Thorfinn keeps watch and cleans his dagger.

You lay down, watching the fire crackle. Thorfinn is quiet.

If you are angry and aggravated yourself, it's best if you don't say anything or else you're going to sour Throfinn's mood more than it already is. In fact, it's better if the both of you stay quiet to digest the whole situation.

If you cry, again, do so silently. Thorfinn won't and can't make an attempt to comfort you. He doesn't know how to on one hand, but also refuses to try for he is too proud and angry to do anything.

However, that doesn't mean he won't notice or won't feel anything over your feelings right now. Having felt death almost brush you, no matter if it came from friend or foe must...feel awful. Your silent tears would let the anger inside him grow but also leave him with his heart falling to his stomach.

Nevertheless, you try to sleep. Laying on your good side, you fluttered your eyes closed, trying to ignore the cold. Though, you really couldn't complain right now. Your stomach is full, the fire was warm enough and you could rest without having to worry...

You glance back up to Thorfinn who was still cleaning his dagger. He seemed calmer than a few hours ago though you could tell that the anger was still bubbling inside of him...just not as strong.

"...Thank you, Thorfinn..." You mumble quietly and if he wasn't wrong, the blonde reckoned he heard a bit of an painful crack in your voice. He stops and looks at you.

Thinking back to the battlefield an slight cold shiver that ran down your back from the sensation of Askeladd's blade. Your face grimaced. Realization hit you that night.

"...You saved me..."

Thorfinn's eyes would widen as well.

It's true...he hadn't really thought what he was doing when charging back. Ignoring the mission.

The young man pouts slightly and doesn't know what to say, especially if you're looking at him with such big eyes. He'd look around as if he's searching for something even if he had no reason to. He simply doesnt want to look at you right now after you said that...

With a small wave of his hand, he brushes the comment, no, the statement off.

"Sleep while you still can. We'll be off before sunrise." He softly let out without sparing you a glance. You can add anything you like but Thorfinn would keep pestering you to rest so you better stop before you start annoying him.

Having no other choice you fall asleep. Thorfinn only looks back at you once he knows you're asleep and can't sense him staring at you. Something akin to a small frown on his face.

He lets a hand hover over your head, he doesn't know why. Once he cant find any proper reason, he lets it rest on the ground. Few men are noisy enough to even reach the deep woods but the blonde doesn't seem to hear them as he's staring at you.

Just as he promised, he kept watch until you all had to go.

The day went on unexpectantly alright.

You and Thorfinn would be at the end of the row, riding on horses the prince still had at his disposal. Only two were left, the other ones didn't survive Thorkell's men. So to test their remaining strength if they could pull the wagon of his highness, and with you two being the youngest and lightest ones of the mercenaries, you were deemed test subjects for the horses. (I just need you two to ride horses...)

You ride in silence, the band marching in front and behind you...but you can't help but glance at Throfinn again and again through the march. Ever since the battle, there has been something eating away at your mind and its bothering you.

Leaning closer to the blonde, you finally ask why he did all of these things. Why he'd go out of his way to do all of this for you...saving you, patching you up, protecting you, feeding you, looking out for you, sticking by you...it was all so much in such a short amount of time. You were helpless and Thorfinn acted like it was his duty to take care of you.

You just needed something. Anything as an answer.

He glanced back at you before quickly staring at the road. "What, did you want to die?" He would let out and nothing more.

You ask again, explaining yourself. It isn't like you don't believe he wouldn't do this for you or - or that you weren't willing to do this for him! It...happened so fast and perhaps you were scared but you've never seen Thorfinn this dedicated to anything else but his revenge before...

He frowns for a bit and stays quiet. He's contemplating on his own, on one hand pondering how to express his feelings and on the other, not really knowing what he feels in the first place.

"I don't want you to die." He kept on staring ahead as he let out in a whisper. Still, he said it like it was a fact.

Your eyes widen and you lean back to properly sit on your horse. Never did you think Thorfinn actively wanted you to die but you never thought you'd...hear him say that either.

Of course. You supposed things made sense now.

"...I don't want to die either." You admitted, feeling a bit low. Obviously, you didn't want to die.

You lean back to the blonde but not as much as before. Your eyes held sincerity even as you sounded a bit blue. "...And I don't want you to die either, Thorfinn".

Finally, he straight up turned to you. There was an unreadable expression on his face even as his brown eyes seemed wider than usual. For a moment something on his visage shifted and he swiftly turned his head away again.

With a low, quiet, seemingly inaudible chuckle, he scoffed; "You're strange".

You almost couldn't believe it as you leaned closer. Was there the slightest and smallest of smiles on Thorfinn's face?

A chuckle of your own escaped you. "You're strange!" Teasingly and with small laughter you let out.

Turning back to you, you were right. This was the first time you saw a genuine smile on his face even if it was faint.

And for him it was the second time he saw this glint in your eyes and warm grin on your face. The first time was when you talked about Vinland.

Aftermath thingies:

A few quick reminders before yall are gonna have to deal with the prince:

Ever since that night where he finally realized that he saved you, Thorfinn has been acting unusually soft with you.

He saved you out of his own will. Not because it will mean he'll get a favor or a duel with Askeladd, it simply meant that he didn't want you to die. There wasn't a single thought running through his head as he attacked the man who tried to harm you (at best. At worst he wanted you dead which is something Thorfinn wholeheartedly believes) even as he was being possessed by his rage. He wasn't thinking when he dragged you with him to the prince, to Thorkell nor did he plan anything through when attempting to patch you up.

He just followed his gut. What he felt.

He caved easily to the rage he felt towards Askeladd and any of the men that did not believe him or dared to mock you both for it. He gave into the belief that right now, injured like that, you were weak and an easy target so he'll take care of things for now. He let the fear muffle his senses when he saw the sword only this close to your neck.

Thorfinn doesn't know if he cares for you. And if he did, then he wouldn't be aware of it. He just doesn't want you to die.

A man as young as him is easily swayed by his emotions.

Was returning his dagger all it took for it to spiral it this way? First a few compromises that turned to favors and now selfless behavior for the other? Was it the slightest speck of respect for his late father, not for his physical prowess but his strength as a person, which he hadn't gotten in years? Was Thorfinn battling the loneliness so hard and desperately that all it took was a soft glint of your eyes and a warm smile when talking about hopes and dreams for him to seek you out?

The image of you dying on the battlefield, butchered and beaten... of the man called 'leader' betray you so cowardly...of you defeated and collected as a 'prize'...it all so angers and frightens him.

Thinking back to that battlefield and imagining how it would be like if you did die...

You would just be another body lying amongst the soldiers and waiting to be reclaimed by the earth as crows take the first bite of your damaged, rotting flesh...

Thorfinn would move on without you. He would be alone again with not a single, upstanding soul by his side. Kindness, jokes and companionship would be no more...

If you died, would his father visit him on his dreams again, telling him he lost his friend?

He cannot explain it but it feels wrong. So much so he feels a disgusting shiver run down his spine just thinking about it.

He gets blinded by his own feelings. And he doesn't even know it.

The lad is like a dog chasing after food, after all.

Theoretically he may confront Askeladd in the middle of a duel (if he gets one in the first place). Asking him what the hell he was thinking, he could have killed you. He would have! Throfinn is sure of it! (No matter what the others say).

In turn, the man just taunts him more, subtly, however. In a way that witnesses might not fully understand, aside from Björn maybe.

(In fact, Björn might be the only one aside from you and Thorfinn who knew what Askeladd was trying to do but he keeps quiet. However, that doesn't mean he approves of his actions. It actually makes him more suspicious on what Askeladd's true feelings about his mercenaries are...)

Back to the taunting, that would anger Thorfinn more than he already was and make him charge at Askeladd without thinking - which, of course, causes him to lose.

This bastard better not mock him! He knew what he saw even if he doesn't understand the intention!

Thorfinn doesnt truly understand that he is being used as a tool. He takes things on a surface level with the way he feels, smells, touches, tastes and sees. And he saw him trying to murder you.

Even so, one day he has to put his issue with that aside if it means having to be the prince's bodyguard while also wanting to get a chance for the next duel. That doesn't mean he will not ever forget waht Askealdd did however...

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Request: Yes or No

Don't kill me pls I love y'allllllllll if it helps i have three parts already writtennnnn! look at the pretty man

CW/TW: Violence, implied homophobia, Christianity, bashing Christianity (idk if that should be a warning), Vikings being Vikings, men being men

Apologies to any ppl from Greenland or people with a lot of knowledge on Norse culture and their gods, I will get some things wrong.

~~~

The sail to Kattegat had proven to be a difficult feat, though most trips across open ocean typically were. The ocean had shown mercy at first; when the waves would only brush against the side of the boat gently, beckoning curious eyes to gaze into its depths.

But upon sailing closer to Kattegat, a storm began brewing above. The sky turned a dark shade of gray as the waves began to grow, slamming against the boat harder and harder, threatening to capsize it with each powerful hit. The other boats traveling alongside them began to disappear until the drenched man could no longer see more than a foot ahead of him through the pouring rain. With the roaring waves and claps of thunder hounding his senses, (Y/N) could hardly hear the instructions his siblings shouted in an attempt to keep the boat from sinking into the darkness below. But in the end, Leif's experience allowed everyone to escape the storm without losing a single person.

Rising from the wooden seat, (Y/N) stared at the harbor settled between the mountains, a horn blaring through the air to signal their arrival. The town appeared large and heavily occupied. Far more occupied than he had expected. Kattegat was a seemingly well-known town but the man hadn't expected to see so many Vikings gathered in just one harbor. His half-sister seemed to share similar thoughts. She stared at the town, gaze lingering for a moment before she looked back toward her brothers with uncertainty but after meeting (Y/N)'s eyes, her lips pulled into a warm smile and her shoulders relaxed.

Freydis Eriksdotter. Only younger than him by a few weeks. With her long blonde hair and tender blue eyes, Freydis had been a shining light in his darkest moments. While she physically resembled her mother, her stubborn and fierce personality could be attributed to their stubborn and infamous father, Erik Thorvaldsson. She had proven to be the perfect combination of her parents; her idle hands that could weave thread and mend injuries also knew how to handle a sword. And with a father like theirs, it was imperative they knew how to defend themselves, from animals and people alike. 

"Stay close and out of trouble," A voice rumbled from behind him as the boat neared the docks.

Then there was his older half-brother, Leif Eriksson. With his broad structure, long brown hair, and bright blue eyes, Leif resembled their father in more ways than one. And yet, he tried to be everything their father wasn't; gentle, forgiving, and merciful. He and Freydis easily adapted to (Y/N)'s presence after his mother brought him to their home. They gleefully took him in, calling him their brother within days and growing to love him within weeks. Leif proved to be the older brother anyone could ever wish for.

"I'm not the one you should be telling that to." (Y/N) muttered, folding his arms over his chest and feeling the boat slow to a stop. The Vikings on the docks were quick to help secure the boat and one took a moment to examine the condition of it and its passengers. 

"How in Odin's name did you avoid the storm?" He questioned curiously as he rested his hands on his hips

Brushing off his question, Leif addressed the man. "Did any ships from the west make it in last night?" 

"No, just two ships before the storm." He answered and nodded toward the shore, drawing (Y/N)'s attention to it. Littered across the sand were bodies, flags, and pieces of wood. Few searched through the wreckages for valuables or familiar faces while others treaded into the waters to pull the corpses onto land. A saddening sight for anyone. Lives lost to the rage of the ocean. Leif studied the shore and exhaled softly, shaking his head lightly before turning to his crew. 

"Toke, Ulf, you stay here with the boats and resupply," Leif instructed the two men and then turned his sights onto siblings. "Freydis, (Y/N), check with the captains at the harbor. The rest of you will come with me to search the town." 

Freydis frowned but before she could protest, (Y/N) gently grasped her arm. "The time will come." He assured her gently. Freydis pursed her lips and nodded, gazing after their brother as he and the others disappeared into the crowded town. She heaved a sigh and turned back to look at their messy boat.

"You know, I do not need you watching over me," Freydis muttered and retrieved some more rope from the floor, squinting up at their sail to check for anything else that had possibly gotten loose in the strong winds.

"It's my job as your big brother." (Y/N) reminded teasingly, a grin appearing on his face when she scoffed softly and rolled her eyes. Freydis expertly tied the rope in her hands around the mast, glancing at the men as (Y/N) took the things Toke and Ulf had quickly retrieved. (Y/N) looked over their supplies, ensuring they had everything they needed. 

"Where are you from?" Someone called out, pulling the Greenlanders' attention away from their tasks and onto the man watching them from the dock.

He was tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His brunette hair had been tied back into a bun, allowing them to gaze at his bearded face and dark eyes. He regarded the crew with mere curiosity and a boyish smile that screamed trouble, exuding an aura of friendliness. But even with his kind eyes and relaxed posture, (Y/N) couldn't find it in himself to trust him. They were newcomers on strange land. Easy targets for vultures. 

Slipping his fingers around his sheathed dagger, (Y/N) allowed his eyes to sweep over the man once more, taking note of the axe holstered to his hip. When he turned his attention back onto the stranger's face he found the man already watching him. The brunette tilted his head to the side expectantly, presumably awaiting an answer from him but he received silence in return as (Y/N) turned his back to him and focused on taking count of their food supply, or rather lack of.

Chuckling softly under her breath, Freydis peered over her shoulder and answered, "Greenland."

"What kind of journey was it?" The man inquired, gaze lingering on the quiet man.

"Long. Five weeks. No stops." Freydis answered once more and watched the man closely as he finally tore his eyes away from her brother and stepped closer to asses the boat. Upon finishing with the mast, she finally faced him.

"Five weeks across open ocean in this?" He peered down at Freydis with twinkling eyes and a wolfish grin. "I'm impressed."

"Then you are easily impressed." 

"Not true. My standards are quite high." The man objected playfully, watching his sister with an all too familiar look. (Y/N) had been no stranger to that dance, especially when it came to Freydis and the other women of the crew. And seeing as his sister appeared rather taken with the handsome stranger, (Y/N) doubted she'd only flirt with him. 

"So are mine." Freydis pulled herself up onto one of the seats, wrapping her hand around one of the ropes attached to the mast to maintain her balance. She smirked at him, blatantly looking him over to feed into their little flirtatious game. "Are you from Kattegat?"

"No, from Ringerike. I'm Harald Sigurdsson." Harald spoke his name proudly, almost as if he were important. It made (Y/N)'s eyes roll. "Who are you?"

"My name is Freydis." The blonde answered before motioning toward (Y/N) with a nod. "And this is my brother."

"Ah." Harald leaned back, hand resting on the hilt of his axe as he looked back at (Y/N). "Then, I believe after such a long voyage, I would think a hot bath would sound good to your sister." Bold words slipped from his mouth and (Y/N) found himself raising his brows at him, hearing Ulf and Toke snickering quietly from their spots. Freydis looked at her brother with widened eyes but the corners of her lips twitched upward in amusement. Meeting her gaze, (Y/N) knew Leif would be far from pleased if he allowed her to leave the boat with a stranger, but he'd be unable to blame (Y/N) for it. Freydis had a habit of doing whatever she wanted, with and without permission. So, with the knowledge Freydis could easily defend herself if it came to it, (Y/N) hesitantly nodded.

"Well then," Freydis turned back to Harald and stepped onto the dock, turning her chin up at him and quirking a pale brow. "Where could I get one of these hot baths?"

"Come." Harald chuckled, shooting the man one last glance before he placed his hand on Freydis's lower back and led her down the dock until they disappeared from view.

"With that attitude, he's asking for someone to dig an axe in his back," Ulf said as he stood up, casting a glance over the boat.

Shaking his head, (Y/N) looked at him and offered a smile. "We've come for other reasons." He reminded, watching Toke finish securing everything.

With the boat taken care of, the two men followed (Y/N) down the dock and looked around as he led them into town. Sellers shoved varying items in his direction, shouting off prices and rambling about their products. Amongst the perfumes, clothes, and weapons being sold, there were slaves. Shackled and shivering. (Y/N) felt his throat tighten at the sight of them.

"There's Liv!" Ulf pointed out and (Y/N) tore his gaze away from the slaves, turning his back to them as his friends slipped from the crowd one by one. 

"No luck." Yrsa sighed. Before (Y/N) could speak, another horn sounded off, signaling the arrival of more ships and it only took a moment for Lief to slip out of the crowd and join the group, looking over everyone with newfound determination.

"The cross belongs to an English Viking." He revealed, eyes searching for Freydis's familiar face and frowning when he didn't spot her. Turning to his brother questioningly, his frown only deepened when (Y/N) avoided his eyes and sheepishly rubbed the side of his neck.

"She left with someone. A so-called Harald Sigurdsson."

Sighing heavily, Leif nodded. "I'll find her. We'll meet up at the docks."

When Leif disappeared back into the crowd, (Y/N) faced the crew and motioned for them to start heading back. On the short walk to the docks, it began to rain lightly but the wind picked up considerably. They just couldn't seem to stay dry for long. It didn't take long for Leif and Freydis to join the crew, eyes trained on the ships sailing into the harbor. Upon getting closer, (Y/N) spotted two of the men on one of the ships, crosses dangling from their necks. Considering the loud cheering from the docks, the two were loved, perhaps even worshipped. 

"It's him," Freydis confirmed, looking back at her brothers when the men stepped off the ships. She looked back at the sound of a familiar voice and her eyes narrowed upon seeing Harald greeting them, appearing to know the men on a personal level. 

"Isn't that-"

"Yes." Freydis breathed, jaw clenching. Grasping the handle of her knife, Freydis took a step forward, ready to get her revenge on the man who had fled from justice. But she didn't get far before (Y/N) took her arm and pulled her back. Too many eyes, too many Christians. They'd see her coming from a mile away if she brazenly rushed at them and he doubted they'd only pray for her if she were caught.

"Not here," Leif told her, keeping an eye on the men as they strode deeper into town. Grunting softly, the blonde sheathed her knife and stepped back, eyes bright with rage. "Toke, Yrsa. Go get our things."

The men stopped briefly to eat, giving Toke and Yrsa enough time to gather everyones' belongings and bring them back, handing them off just as the men got on horses and began leaving town. The crew followed them out of town, keeping a safe distance away and being mindful of the other Vikings with the men. Leif led everyone into the dense forest, stepping over fallen logs and foliage as they climbed up the side of the mountain. A tiresome trek but a necessary one. Freydis needed to bring justice down on the man who had hurt her and her brothers had vowed on helping her. So, (Y/N) ignored the way his muscles ached for rest and marched on.

The winds lashed furiously on the mountain but it was the least of (Y/N)'s worries as he took in the sight below. A whole camp filled with more Vikings than he could count. Tents perched in just about every corner, horses roaming around, carts filled with supplies. It looked like an army preparing for something, but what exactly? (Y/N) swallowed and looked at Leif, taking in the concentrated look on his face.

"We'll set up camp in the forest." Leif decided, turning to his equally perplexed and surprised friends. "We'll keep an eye on him until the time is right." Leif nodded to his sister and Freydis returned it, eyeing the camp one last time before she turned and began heading back down the mountain, the others following close behind and exchanging glances. (Y/N) strayed for a moment, looking over all the Vikings present. A need for so many warriors could only mean something big, something important.  Part of him didn't want to find out what it was.

Turning his attention away from the camp, he caught up with the others and headed down the mountain where they could rest until a solid plan was created. Yrsa and Ulf worked together to prop their furs on long sticks, Liv and Leif collected some sticks to create a small fire and Njal left to watch the camp. (Y/N) explored the forest, gazing up at the tall trees towering over them. While he was no stranger to a lush forest, he'd been used to seeing vast snow-covered plains for most of his life. He missed the openness of his home... He missed his parents and brothers. Sighing softly, he turned his sights onto the bright green brush and grass, searching for fallen branches and sticks to help feed the fire Liv and Leif had started. He'd have to take in the sights of nature another time. They had more important matters at hand. 

Returning to camp with a handful of sticks and crouching down by the fire, he set the pile down beside Liv and brushed his hands free of dirt. Liv gave him a thankful smile, picking up a few and tossing them into the fire, the crackle growing louder. (Y/N) lifted his head to look at the others, noting Skarde seemed awfully quiet and upset. Yrsa had settled down on a blanket made of furs whilst Ulf and Toke conversed and his sister sat by herself, looking out in the direction of the camp. She perked up at the sight of Njal, watching him return with a conflicted expression.

"He must be important. He hasn't come out of the main tent." Njal informed them, gaze cast onto the ground as glances were exchanged.

Running a hand over his face, Skarde shook his head and spoke shakily, fingers toying with the thread wrapped around his hand. "This changes things."

"This changes nothing," Freydis spoke, snapping her head toward him and narrowing her eyes when he scoffed.

"Really? What is your plan then? Go down there and simply take your revenge?" He questioned, raising a brow at her as she stood and faced him.

"If I have to, yes." Noticing the growing animosity, Leif stood up from his spot beside Liv, glancing between his sister and friend as they went back and forth, both Greenlanders growing more annoyed with each passing second.

Skarde slowly nodded in disbelief, rolling up the thread in his hands and tossing it to his feet. "I won't be a part of such a plan." He spat, pushing himself off the tree he'd been sitting against. 

"Then you break your oath to my father?" Leif furrowed his brows as he walked forward, placing himself between the two and staring up at him. (Y/N) rose up from his hunches and stepped around the brunette to stand beside his brother, briefly pulling Skarde's attention off his siblings and onto him. 

Clenching his jaw, Skarde spoke, "I didn't promise your father to be a part of foolishness."

"What do we know of this place?" Njal's deep voice interjected, his tone full of uncertainty. "Trees, cities, and giant armies? These Norse are not our people."

"They are Viking... Just like you." Freydis raised her brows, pointedly looking between Njal and Skarde as she spoke.

"No." Skarde asserted with a light shake of his head. "We are Greenlanders. As are you." He said, inhaling deeply before he continued. "Until this morning, no one among us had ever seen more than 40 people together in one place. Now, I look at more men than in Iceland and Greenland together. We must be able to admit that what we came here for is now hopeless." 

Silence fell over the crew and when nobody countered his argument, Freydis scoffed in disbelief and turned away from them, stalking off in the direction of the camp. (Y/N) didn't hesitate on following his sister through the foliage until they came across the tree line. Freydis stared out at the camp with crossed arms and a frown on her face. The crunching of leaves signaled Leif's presence, having followed his younger siblings as well.

"You shouldn't have stopped me at the harbor," Freydis muttered bitterly. "It would be done."

"And you would be dead," Leif stated bluntly, gazing out at the camp. 

"Then I'd be in Valhalla with the other Einherjar, feasting with Odin and the Gods. And Father would be proud."

"We are not here for Father, Freydis." (Y/N) spoke up, hand reaching out to gently touch the back of her arm. She looked down at his hand, her tense figure slowly relaxing at her brother's touch. "We came here for you. Besides, Father didn't think of-"

"What are you trying to tell me?" She asked defensively, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. "Do you believe it's hopeless? Because I will not stop until I get my revenge." 

"No, Freydis. We're asking you to trust us." Leif said, softening his gaze as he looked at his sister. Freydis swallowed and looked back at him, lips pressing together. She released a shaky sigh and nodded, loose curls bouncing against her speckled skin.

"I trust you."

"Good. Because I have a plan."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" (Y/N) questioned, eyeing the Vikings walking around with their weapons close to their sides and crosses hanging proudly from their necks. When night had fallen, Leif had pulled him away from the rest to take him to the camp. Leif wished to infiltrate the camp and figure out what exactly so many of their people had been gathered.

"If you'd like, you can return to camp," Leif glanced back at him, shoulder roughly bumping against another Viking walking by. (Y/N) stepped closer to his brother, listening to the soft prayers oozing from tents and groups of Vikings. Unease bubbled in his stomach. Too many Christians for his liking. Leif lifted his hand to his face, brushing back some hair before an older man suddenly reached out, snatching his wrist and staring at the tattoo Leif had on his wrist.

"What you doing over here?" He hissed quietly, voice thick with an English accent. He spared a look around before releasing Leif's wrist and glancing at (Y/N). "Come with me before one of these damn Christians catches sight of the both of ya." He sucked his teeth, shoving the brothers forward and away from the other Vikings. (Y/N) stumbled out onto an open area and looked back at the man, watching him warily glance back.

"If that Jesus bunch caught you two prowling around over there, you'd be lucky to get back." He shook his head, leading them toward a cart and pulling their hands up. He began stacking folded blankets and coats made of fur on their hands until the sound of drums began echoing through the air and everyone began heading in the direction of the sound.

"Stay close," Leif whispered to his brother, following the older man through the crowd. Men on horses led the way with their torches held in the air, only stopping once the crowd stood in front of those beating the drums. (Y/N) handed the blankets off to the older man, nodding to him and keeping close to Leif as they slipped through the crowd until they reached the front. A few Vikings stood on top of a hill overlooking the crowd. Harald Sigurdsson among them. He appeared to be quite important.

"Welcome, friends!" The man standing beside Harald began, voice echoing through the valley. Murmurs erupted through the crowd and a name seemed to be passed around: King Canute of Denmark.

"Over a hundred years ago, a great Viking army set off for England to avenge the death of Ragnor Lothrok. It achieved its goal. And after many great victories, our people were invited to settle into communities there. With time, we sent our loved ones to live and work there. The Danelaw became their home." King Canute spoke, allowing a brief moment of silence to pass as the information settled in. 

"A year ago, all that changed. And a slaughter began. A massacre. Unknown in the long history of our people. An attack. Not warrior to warrior, but waged on innocent women and children." The more he spoke, the rowdier the crowd got, murmurs growing louder. "Waged for only one reason; to cleanse England of our people. You have been summoned here for a purpose, to avenge the death of our people and to show the English that they cannot murder Vikings and expect us to do nothing!" The crowd erupted in cheers, swords being slammed against shields in support. (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably as shoulders bumped against his, adrenaline beginning to pump in the veins of those around him.

"Our ancestors would not. Ivar the Boneless and Bjorn Ironside would not. I will not. Will you?" The crowd roared their response. It was not in a Viking's blood to simply ignore an attack against themselves, against loved ones. But many of the Vikings present weren't there to avenge a loved one. A blind and unexpected attack was an easy way to bruise someone's ego. "You are here for your families! You are here for your honor! You are here because you are Vikings!" King Canute finished, hearing the overwhelming shouts and roars of agreement, metal swords slamming against shields. Leif and (Y/N) exchanged a look, arms brushing against each other and providing the brothers with some sense of comfort in a sea of furious men and women.

"We will fight the English." One man staggered forward, head turning to sneer at the others. "But not with Christians!" He bellowed, motioning toward them with his axe as others cheered in agreement. Despite the years, (Y/N) could feel his scar ache as he looked toward the gathered Christians, a certain disdain swirling in his chest. "Christians killed my family. They are my true enemy."

"And you are mine, Pagan." One of the Christian men responded, stepping forward from the rowdy crowd. "These men are nothing but idolaters. Worshippers of Satan!" 

With a war cry, the first man ran at the other, swinging his axe at him but his blow was blocked by the second man's shield. The two continued swinging at each other, urged on by both crowds alike. Swiftly going down the hill, Harald got in between them, blocking with his shield and swinging at the men in an attempt to push them away from each other. Releasing a cry when a sword cut him, Harald sneered at the men and spread out his arms to prevent them from attacking each other.

"Enough!" Harald snarled at them, heavy pants leaving him. He turned toward the first man, dropping his arms to his sides as he addressed him. "Jarl Gorm, you say you'll never fight with Christians but what am I? Did I not spend every summer of my youth with your family? Did you not love me like a son?" He questioned, whipping his head to look at the second man. "Jarl Nori, a pious Christian. I saw your sister the night of the massacre. What would she say about your refusal to fight with your brothers here? Would she not call you a coward?" Harald looked between the two before taking a step back and facing the crowd.

"That your God is Odin or Christ means nothing to me! Only your honor does! Only your courage does!" He shouted into the night. Heaving softly, he touched a hand to his sliced arm and lifted his blood-soaked fingers into the air. "This blood is not my blood. It is our blood, it is Viking blood! And it will always be!" His words garnered cries and shouts of agreement, flags swinging back and forth. The two men nodded to Harald and retreated to their previous spots in the crowd, content with keeping the peace for the time being.

"It is going to be a long night," Leif whispered as the cheers continued. (Y/N) could only sigh in return.

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

"Did you sleep at all?"

"You know very well I can't sleep around strangers." (Y/N) answered with a yawn, trying to push away the exhaustion clinging to his body. Leif frowned, using his fingers to comb his hair back into a bun but before he could lecture his brother, (Y/N) turned his back to him and looked out at the bustling Vikings.

"What now?"

"We find him and we keep an eye on him," Leif answered and walked forward, the sound of singing filling the camp as Vikings went about their day. Men and women collected supplies, heaving them onto carts and helping one another. (Y/N) searched for the man, eyes flickering from face to face, never allowing his gaze to linger to avoid attracting attention to them. Feeling fingers lightly tap his arm, he followed Leifs' gaze and spotted the man walking through the ground. However, before the two could follow, Leif's shoulder was roughly grabbed and his body turned to face a stranger.

"It's them, all right." The man nodded to his friends and sneered at the brothers. "Your father is Erik Thorvaldson, yes? Erik the Red?"

"And what is that to you?" Leif asked, eyeing the men around them. (Y/N) brought his hand to his dagger's handle, looking over his shoulder at the men behind them, their shields up to block them from leaving. 

"Our name is Becken. Your father killed our brother Sven." The man revealed, motioning between himself and the other Viking standing beside him.

"Our father's history has nothing to do with us." Leif retorted, reaching out to grab (Y/N)'s arm and gently push him forward, hoping to avoid a fight but one of the men cut in front of them, blocking them from getting too far and cockily grinning at them.

"Your father is a killer. Run away to escape justice. It has everything to do with you." The first man asserted bitterly. (Y/N)'s grip on the dagger tightened and he looked back at Leif, searching his face for permission to swing at the man in front of him. Leif grimaced and turned toward the man who had begun it, raising his brows.

"You're making a mistake." He warned.

Scoffing, the man in front of (Y/N) shook his head. "No, Eriksson. The mistake was yours." He declared, charging forward but before he could bring the sword down on the younger brother, (Y/N) grabbed his attacker's forearm and turned his body, slipping his dagger out while simultaneously elbowing the man directly in the nose. The man cried out in pain and stumbled backward, hand raising to touch his now bleeding nose. The pain, however, only fueled his rage and he charged again with an enraged cry. (Y/N) quickly dodged the following swing and slammed his foot into the back of his knee, sending the man toppling downward. He rolled over onto his back and attempted to get up but (Y/N) kicked his face, causing more blood to spill from his nose as his head slammed back into the grass. Retrieving the man's discarded axe from the ground, (Y/N) threw it at one of the men charging at his brother, successfully hitting him and causing the man to fall. 

"Brother!" Turning, (Y/N) caught the shield Leif tossed at him and blocked a swing from a sword, using the shield to shove the man onto the ground. He spun around and leaned back, narrowly getting cut by an axe swinging in his direction. Lifting his leg, (Y/N) kicked the man in the stomach and made him stumble backward, using his momentary loss of balance to charge forward and dig the dagger into his arm. Pulling it out and panting softly, (Y/N) stepped back and briefly pressed his back against Leif's.

The man that had attacked him first blindly charged, face soaked in red. (Y/N) raised the shield to block his punch and lowered it just as quickly, swinging the dagger at his face and cutting his cheek. Moving his hands down to the bottom of the shield, he swung it sideways and hit the side of the man's face, knocking him down again. When another one charged, he did similarly, aiming at his wrist and knocking the sword from their grasp. Releasing the shield and charging, (Y/N) tackled the man onto the grass and pinned his arms down with his knees, lifting his dagger above his head and bringing it down.

"Enough!" Leif called, and (Y/N) froze, blade frighteningly close to his attacker's eye. Panting heavily, (Y/N) peered over his shoulder and spotted his brother holding a sword to the first man's throat.

"Just like your father." The man cursed, spitting out some blood and saliva.

"You're wrong." Leif lifted the sword, using the side of it to knock him out. "If I were like my father, you'd all be dead." He breathed and turned toward (Y/N), tossing the sword aside and motioning for him to stand. (Y/N) looked down at the man writhing beneath him and huffed softly, standing up and trailing after Leif. 

"Taking another's life would've complicated things, (Y/N)," Leif scolded, looking back at him with a disappointed frown.

"They attacked first." (Y/N) argued with a huff. "They would've had it coming."

Sighing, Leif shook his head and looked forward. "You sound like Father." He muttered, leading his brother to a stream near the camp and crouching down by the water. (Y/N) joined him, letting the cool water wash his hands before he dipped his dagger in and cleaned it. Once satisfied, (Y/N) rose and wiped the blade against his pant leg, sheathing it and drying his hands on his pants. He caught sight of figures in his peripheral and gently kicked his brother's leg to catch his attention.

"Eriksson from Greenland. Not the sons of Viking warrior, Erik Thorvaldson, banished from Norway and Iceland for murder?" Harald tilted his head, regarding them with an amused smile. Leif stood up, shaking his hands off, and sharing a cautious glance with his brother.

"The same." He confirmed, eyes flickering to the men beside Harald. Most wore crosses.

"I suppose when you have a father like Erik the Red, you learn to fight like that." Harald chuckled, not catching the distaste that passed over Leif's features at his words.

"My name is Leif." He walked closer, tilting his head up to look at Harald.

"I'm Harald Sigurdsson. We met yesterday, though I didn't quite catch your brother's name." Harald said, tilting his head to look at (Y/N). His cocky and playful smirk made whatever respect (Y/N) had gained for him the night before wash away in an instant. His lip pulled back and he couldn't help but roll his eyes, a soft scoff escaping him. Harald merely chuckled at his distaste, eyes slowly raking over the Greenlander.

"I believe that's none of your business." (Y/N) responded, eyes trailing down from his face to the cross he wore. Harald's hand raised to toy with it, fingers wrapping around it and blocking it from view. (Y/N) lifted his gaze and met Harald's, holding eye contact for a moment before he looked away. Leif's brows furrowed slightly, glancing between his brother and Harald.

"His name is (Y/N)," Leif piped up after a moment of silence, climbing up the short hill to be at eye level with Harald. "We heard you last night. You're a good speaker. You moved many." 

"Did I move you?" Harald asked, eyes remaining on the younger brother. His lips quirked into a small grin when (Y/N) refused to meet his gaze, only begrudgingly getting closer when his brother motioned for him. Crossing his arms over his chest, (Y/N) looked back at the men and briefly looked into Harald's dark eyes. When neither brother responded, Harald finally tore his eyes away and looked at the rather perplexed Leif, hand dropping from his cross. "Freydis said you captained your boat all the way from Greenland. Could use good ship captains who can fight. I can promise great glory if you join us in England."

"Glory?" Leif repeated, curiously glancing back at (Y/N). "I thought you were going to England for revenge?"

"We are. But true Vikings always reach for glory. It's what defines us."

"Like I said, you're a good speaker. I'll think about it." Leif answered grimly, although his tone made his answer rather clear and obvious. Harald's jaw clenched but he nodded, watching the brothers brush past him. (Y/N) paused, reaching out to touch Harald's cross, studying the metal and designs carved into it. Harald reached up to pull his cross out of (Y/N)'s grip, pausing when their fingers brushed against each other. His eyes lowered to look down at their hands.

"I wish you luck with our sister. You'll need it." (Y/N) murmured, releasing the cross and joining Leif in heading back to camp. 

The rest of the day had gone by uneventfully as the army began moving toward Kattegat where Jarl Haakon allowed them to set up camp outside the walls of her city. She graciously opened the main hall for them, hosting a feast for the warriors ready to fight. (Y/N) and Leif wandered around the hall, keeping to the sides and mostly out of view as they waited for Freydis to slip inside and enact her revenge. A risky plan but they were aware of the dangers. Death is not the end, his mother would say to him whenever he grew afraid.

"There's Skarde." (Y/N) whispered upon spotting the man slipping into the hall. Just in time for another speech from King Canute.

"Friends!" He called from the table settled at the end of the hall, rising to his feet as the Vikings fell silent and turned toward the king. Leif walked forward, heading toward the other side of the hall as quietly as possible. (Y/N) remained on the other side, glancing at Leif as he kept to the wall but made sure to remain within their view, or rather Harald's view. It proved easier than expected seeing as Harald's eyes found him almost instantaneously.

"This is a historic occasion. Our thanks to Jarl Haakon for opening her city to our righteous cause. It is an honor to be here in Kattegat, in the great hall of Ragnar Lothbrok and his sons. To eat from the same table as Lagertha and all the heroes who came before. We are humbled and inspired by their legacy. But now is our time to make history. To show the cowards in England, that Vikings, despite our differences, are still one people. One heart. One soul." He concluded his speech and (Y/N) slipped out toward the middle of the room with Leif joining him midway as the Vikings dispersed. Finally meeting Harald's eyes, (Y/N) tilted his head at him and lifted a hand to his dagger, watching Harald's eyes narrow as they flickered to his hand. His eyes left the Greenlander for a moment.

"That's close enough, Greenlanders." One of the Christians who never seemed far from Harald spoke, stepping toward them and gripping Leif by the collar. Harald rose from his spot at the table and approached them as more men surrounded them. With his attention on the brothers, he didn't spot the cloaked figure descending upon the table with a knife in hand.

"Whatever you are planning, do not act on it. I'll kill you if I must." 

"We're not the ones you should be worried about." And then, a frightened scream broke the tension.

[glitterrosesnzz]

everyone hush. oc mini fic time.

-

“You’re totally allergic.” 

Lux stiffened, his fingers twitching slightly from their position of casually holding his scythe over his shoulder. Slowly, he turned around to face Leif, who had stopped in the middle of the path to cross their arms and stare at him smugly. Lux quickly looked away. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He muttered, starting to move again- only to stop as Leif grabbed hold of the back of his scythe, stopping him in his tracks. Lux tried to growl at him, eyes briefly glowing in warning, but Leif was unphased. 

“C’mon, you know exactly what I’m talking about!!” They said, “You sure did look panicked when that kind young lady tried to give you a bouquet.” 

Lux sighed. 

“I just didn’t think she should’ve wasted her money buying it, is all. There was no need for her to- to… where did you get that?” 

Leif smirked, holding a bouquet in their arms as they watched Lux take a step back away from them. 

“Well, since you so impolitely refused it, I figured someone ought to take the poor young lady’s flowers. I put them in my magic pocket for safe keeping.” They took a step forward to match Lux’s step back- continuing to slowly walk towards him until Lux was almost backed up against the partially broken down remains of an old wall. “C’mon- just admit you’re allergic and I’ll put the bouquet away.” 

“I’m- I’m not.” Lux’s hands twitched, and he stubbornly moved them down to rest at his sides, his scythe brushing against the ground. 

“Oh really?” Leif said, leaning a little closer to look over Lux’s shoulder as he leaned back- “Cause I for one think your little shadow over here is telling a very different story.” 

Umbra wasted no time in emerging from the wall, and Lux somehow managed to get even more stiff. 

“C-cahh… c’mon, st-stahh…stop teasing hH-” Umbra’s breath hitched audibly, head tilting back… only for nothing to happen. After a brief moment, he reached over and attempted to punch Lux in the arm, his hand only passing through him. “For fuck’s sake- just let yourself- and me- sneeze already!” 

Lux shook his head in the negative, covering his nose with his hand as Umbra’s breath hitched again. Lief looked between the two of them curiously. 

“So you can only sneeze if he does?” They asked, tilting their head slightly while watching Umbra rub at his nose. “I thought that, even as his shadow, you were slightly more separate than that.” 

“It g-goes both- heH… both ways.” Umbra sniffled, “He’ll- he’ll sneeze if I- ihH-... I do, mine just- mine just- hIH-hH…tehH-... tend to get… st-stuck.” 

Leif hummed in contemplation. Then, after a few more seconds of watching Umbra hitch desperately, seemingly getting nowhere closer to release, with Lux covering his nose and looking away, they stepped forwards, pulling a single flower out of the bouquet. With no pre-amble, they reached out. 

As expected, the flower could not actually make contact with Umbra, instead lightly passing through him. Still though, placing the flower in a position near his nose seemed to have some sort of effect, as his hitching pitched up slightly. 

“Hh-hiIHH-” 

“Hh-heH-” 

Lux let out an audible hitch- his scythe dropping to the ground as he used both his hands to cover his mouth and nose, a flustered blush spreading across his face to his ears. A similar blush appeared on Umbra soon after- and his hands hesitated between hovering in front of his face and moving to cover his ears. Teary eyed, Umbra somehow managed to glare at Lux through hitching breaths. 

“St-hH- stop- stop being emba-hiH-hH-... em-embarrassed- hEH- …about it- hH… you’re- you’re making me blu-hiHH-hAH-” He was cut off from saying more, as Leif gave the flower the slightest bit of a twirl- it somehow seemingly mimicking what it would be like if the flower was actually in his nose. “HiiIh-hH-!” 

“HahH-N’xtsh!!” Lux was the one who broke first, doubling over in a barely stifled sneeze. Umbra was quick to follow. 

“Hh-hH’EiSCHiu!!” He didn’t bother with stifling at all, seemingly only just barely remembering to cover his mouth with his hands- not that Leif figures it would’ve mattered, him being a shadow and all. Leif removed the flower almost immediately, both it and the accompanying bouquet vanishing back into their magic pocket, figuring their job was done as both Umbra and Lux’s breath hitched again. 

“HhhH-N’XTchu!!” 

“H’aHSHiu!! Fuck!” Umbra sniffled, rubbing at his nose as his breath continued to hitch. “L-hH- Lux, we-we’re gonna-hH…be at this all day if you- it you- hIH-h’EiTsHiu!!” 

Lux shook his head, somewhat desperately- and seemingly forced his hands away from his mouth. 

“HihH-” 

“HehH-” 

“Hh-ISHtchu!! Hah-hH’ESCHu!! H’eSTCHiu!!!” 

“Hah-H’ESHhi!! Hh-h’ISHiu!! Hh’ISHtchiu!! Fucking finally!” Umbra wiped at his nose, readjusting his position as Lux bent down to pick up his scythe, wiping his nose more discreetly as he did so. “Was that so fucking hard?” 

Lux did not respond, avoiding eye contact with the both of them as he pulled his hood over his head. Umbra’s hands went up to cover his now bright red ears. 

“Jeez.” He muttered, turning to Leif. “I’m the dude’s shadow, and even I don’t get why he’s so embarrassed about being allergic to roses.”

[brights-place]

Hello: DI see you normally do trolls but I wanted to request leif with a reader that getshanahaki if that was alright

Is there any chance we geta happy ending?

if not then sorry, TY!! :3

Lief X Hanahaki! Reader

Pairings: Leif X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Some angsty shit, mentions of Murder, Cursing A/N: Dude I have never WROTE hanahaki disease some Im scaredddddddd but I hope its good enough for you sorry theres alot of plot holes I made this like in the middle of the night teeheee Hanahaki disease... a disease that was horrid where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs. You were a fellow daemos and were hand in hand when killing in the battle field together the two of you were apart of the same group as Leif when you both were Assassins. The group all worked alongside each other as assassins to stay alive and Leif considered them to be his family. Yet you considered him more. You both were sitting taking base as you stared at Leif admiring his appearance as he was cleaning his bloodied sickles as you couldn't help but chuckle when you hear all your other fellow assassin flexing how many kills each one of them had but Leif had the most kills being 52 as you came second with 49 as a groan past your lips as leif wrapped an arm around your shoulder snickering with his usual smug smirk "Awww is (Name) mad? don't worry pretty I'll make sure to go easy on you" You playfully smacked his shoulder "Nahh! imma win next time!" "I'd like to see you try" "Watch me" you both leaned in smirking as you couldn't help but feel a famillar warm feeling in your chest as you smiled at him warmly before you noticed Violet an fellow daemos assassin chuck a stick at the two of you "Okay lovebirds cut it out!" "Awww come on violet you know we both aren't like that we've been best friends since abandoned" Leif said rolling his eyes walking towards Violet and Moss who were snickering as you couldn't help but feel your heart break rethinking all those words leif said moments before. You soon let out a cough as the others raised a brow as you raised a hand dismissing them as you walked away to grab water from the nearby river as your coughing didn't come to a halt as you continued to cough harshly as you dropped onto all fours onto the river coughing more yours eyes shutting tightly tears brimming through your e/c eyes as you soon gagged and heard something slightly drop to the water. You opened your eyes your hands were wet along with some parts of your armor due to the river but something light was floating onto the water your eyes stayed onto the petal that was floating away before you raised your hand touching your lips to see the familiar metallic red as you were confused you coughed again as you felt something in your mouth as your sharp claws reached up digging into your mouth taking out a petal that you leaned into. The petal was one that belonged to one of the rarest flowers in daemos yet was one of the most toxic flowers and the flower that leif loved the most due to saying its threatning and cool but you knew he adored it for its beauty. The petals of the Lily of the Valley have a brilliant white hue, each one shaped like a thin, delicate scroll it felt incredibly soft to the touch with the faint scent of fresh cut grass the scent calming and peaceful,bringing forth inner tranquility and soothing away worry but for you right now? It made you panic you didn't eat the flower you didn't even see one at all for this past week so this made you feel fear... Your eyes widened seeing the petal "What the fuck...?" you uttered before hearing a voice call out your name "(name)! (NAME) Where you at? we gotta head to bed its Moss that's gonna be on lookout tonight-" Leif froze staring at you as you quickly slurped up some water "yeah Yeah I'll be there just- Im just thirsty" Leif raised a brow before shrugging "kay come back to campsite when your done" you couldn't help but sigh when he left before inspecting the petal before standing up and wiping your hands and felt the petal fall from your hands as you turned around and left the river as the petals were flowing down the river with one petal having droplets of blood on it.

When you went back to camp you headed over to a makeshift tent where you and Leif slept as you laid down down with leif laying down nodding at you As you laid down beside him after taking off some of your armor and letting out a sigh yet couldn't help but cough once more a petal falling out again as your eyes widened as you place the petal under your pillow.

A sigh mustered out your lips as you close your eyes a cool breeze wafted in the tent carrying the smell of fresh grass. You got sleepy as the moonlight and cool wind caressed your skin. You curled up beside Leif and within a moment, you drifted into a deep sleep.

your heart and lungs have felt constricted and weighed down by a constant presence. Though the sensation started subtly, it has grown stronger, resembling a suffocating grip as if your very breath is being choked out and replaced by the encroaching growth. The feeling is reminiscent of being imprisoned within a cage of thorns, each petal and leaf contributing to a suffocating weight that makes every breath a struggle. Despite the direness of your mission, your body betrayed you at the worst possible time you and leif were about to strike your kill, Prince Asch yet a brief glance at Lief was enough to trigger a cough and yet you started to frantically choked up a flurry of petals breaking your cover. The guards' shouts echoed through the castle halls, and you and Lief frantically sought refuge behind some wine crates panting as leif glared "What the hell was that!" You panicked feeling horrible that you had revealed your positions, and your fit of coughing had alerted the guards to your presence even more. His eyes widening for a quick second as he clicked his tongue and placed a hand on your shoulder "Here let me-" "Healing magic doesn't work... I tried" You muttered at him looking up to the white haired male who paused "Then what's going on?" You panicked as you spoke "I- I don't know whats going on but I asked violet... and I need to confess something but I cant say it cause im scared and-" Leif smacked the back of your head "then just say it to the person! your coughing up flowers! what type of illness is it anyways?" You couldn't help but let out a shaky breath looking up to him. "Hanahaki Disease is a disease where someone begins coughing up flower petals because they have unrequited feelings for someone... The flowers can grow in the stomach, lungs, or heart, though it is traditionally in the lungs. Hanahaki Disease is a painful, slow disease that often develops over months, if not years, and begins with coughing up a few petals, and grows in intensity and pain until the victim is coughing up entire flowers-" You found yourself overtaken by a coughing fit, the sound echoing in the silent corridor. As you glanced down, you saw several bloodied Lily of the Valley petals in your hands, staining them with their deep crimson hue.

Lief's panicked voice cut through your thoughts. "How could I not have noticed this before?" he asked, worry etched on his face. "Was it all those times you coughed and had to leave, unable to continue with our missions?"

You could only nod in response, each cough now confirming your illness. "Despite how deadly Hanahaki Disease is… it can be instantly cured if it turns out the other person likes the dying person back I don't want to tell them I can't" "Your going to die just tell the person don't be a fucking idiot!" Leif shouted The gravity of your situation hung heavy in the air as Leif's words stung with harsh reality. "You know how deadly Hanahaki Disease is" he continued, "but there is hope right? like you said It can be cured instantly if the object of your affection reciprocates your love..." Your heart sank at the thought of confessing and potentially losing your feelings for them but as the coughs wracked your body again you knew you couldn't keep it a secret for long.

You turned to Leif the burden of your secret that you once held weighing heavily on your shoulders. "I don't want to die" you whispered, your voice tinged with vulnerability "not from the flowers, and not from the stupid knight. If I'm going to die, I want it to be on my terms."

As tears brimmed in your eyes, a sense of weakness washed over you. You felt trapped in a double-edged sword situation where each outcome could lead to your demise. The thought of being beheaded by the prince or succumbing to the disease seemed unbearable. Weak That's how you felt in this situation yet you paused and spoke looking to leif with fearful eyes as your fists bawled holding your weapon tightly "I like- love you leif... and I don't want you to find out when I die that I have liked you for our time spent together"

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[wizisbored]

wip wednesday sentences for 23/10/24

dorm 4 @aparticularbandit, @leif-is-finally-awake, @tamsinswriting @oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin, @sourb0i, @loyal-house-of-lupin

She fastens her seatbelt as Delia gets in the car, and then makes the pointed decision to turn towards the window and pull her headphones up over her ears.

“Lydia? Lydia? Ly-di-ah?”

She shoves one headphone away from her ear. “What?”

“How was your first week?”

“Fine.”

“You and your roommates getting along well?”

“Yep.”

“Classes going okay?”

“Mmhm.”

“Feeling ready for our session today?”

“Absolutely not.”

Delia’s cheery expression drops a little, but not enough to feel like anything genuine. “Oh no, why’s that?”

Lydia glances across the car at her life coach, and is overcome with the need to fuck with her. With a deep dramatic sigh, she laments, “I feel like the universe is trying to tell me something, and I’m scared of what it could be.”

As predicted, Delia latches onto the bait immediately. “What’s making you feel that way?”

“I’m seeing omens of death.”

“...Oh.”

“Yep. Black cats, crows, three knocks on the dormitory door with nobody there… Of course, everything happens for a reason, so that must mean something.”“Well, yes, but it might not mean exactly what you think it does. Black cats are very sweet animals, Lydia."

bj/nimona @whimsicalmeerkat, @stonemaskedtaliesin

So they all file over to the sofas, and Lydia finds herself sat beside her dad, Delia on another chair. The visitors are all together on the sofa that used to have tentacles. Ballister pushes his niece’s feet off the cushion in a way that seems almost reflexive.

“So, how are you finding the new house?” Charles asks, because of course he does. “Settling in well?”

Again, it’s Ambrōsius that answers. “Yes, it’s great. A nice change.”

nimona centaur au @twyrewolf, @eriquin, @kallisto-k, @violet-prism-creatively

“Less of that attitude please, Nimona. Now come along.”

The matron leads the way out of the washroom, Nimona unwinding the earbud wire from around the cassette player hooked to her belt as she follows. She’s got them halfway to her ears before she’s interrupted with a “Nimona, this is your last warning before I have to confiscate that too.” She rolls her eyes.

“What, the player or the earbuds? ‘Cause if you only take the earbuds you’re gonna have a whole new problem.”

“Nimona.”

She huffs, putting the earbuds away. They trudge through the halls of the institute’s dormitory building, to a small room adjacent to the matron’s office. It’s a kind of meeting room, used for visiting parents, and as such Nimona has never stepped foot in it once.

The matron stops, hand on the doorknob, and turns back to look the foal in the eye.

“Nimona… please try.”

be right back @quietly-sleeping, @auburnlaughter, @asha10100101010, @1attheedge

He smiles, but it looks forced. “It’s not a particularly cheery story, kid.”

“I’ll cope.”

Ballister sighs. “Alright. It was a mess. It was a big mess, for a long time. There was a legal case, of course, for the regicide, and I was being followed by reporters every time I went outside the inn I was staying in. Everyone had a different take on it all - the Queen, the Director. You. And… I was grieving.”

He sets his spoon down, sinking his fingers into the thick fur at the back of Nimona’s neck. She raises her head out of the soup pan to turn her good eye towards him.

“Lots of big, complicated feelings there,” he says, not looking entirely comfortable admitting it. “You’ve already been subjected to some of that."

blood red @zyrafowe-sny, @somefishycat, @lizhly @hurricanebreeze, @enigma-the-mysterious, @tiercell

The pink blanket is on her back again, and she’s staring at him expectantly. He goes to her side.

“If you can give yourself a saddle blanket, why did we have to steal a real saddle? Could you not have just given yourself that too?”

“I dunno, why couldn’t you just regrow your arm?”

“Because human beings don’t work like that.”

“Yeah, and this isn’t how I work.”

Ballister pauses. “...You don’t know how your anatomy functions any more than I know mine, do you?”

The horse doesn’t respond, turning her head just slightly away from him. He sighs, scanning his eyes across her body. She’s filthy.

“Can I move the blanket?”

“Sure.”

He carefully tugs it forward, draping it over her neck to expose where the saddle will sit. He doesn’t have a brush on him, whoever the kid robbed back in Blankfort evidently didn’t carry one, so he just does his best to dust off her coat with his hand. The dirt seems to just keep coming, endlessly. But eventually he feels he’s done all he can, and he takes the blanket from her neck. One corner in his hand and another between his teeth he shakes it out, and then tosses it over her back and straightens it out.

He’s put it off all he can, but now there’s the issue of the saddle. He managed to figure out tossing the heavy pile of leather onto his old horse one-armed, but this one is a fair bit taller.

[introverted-imagineer]

The Emperors Solution (Part 21)

Warnings: Language, religious, and gendered themes (In keeping with historical beliefs and practices from the 10th century in which the show is set).

The Emperor had grown up in a world of privilege; the best education money and status could buy, a constant influx of goods that could fill every castle across the empire. A life where the word ‘no’ did not exist. His world on a golden platter that he didn’t have to share with anyone else; Entitled? Yes. Naive? Most probably. Trusting? Possibly. Inattentive? Absolutely not. 

The Emperor stood at the stern of his ship, his chin held high as he seemingly gazed upon his empire. The loyal friend, the sleepy infant, and the bewildered mother sat at the ship's bow. The Emperor’s bride stood starboard side, her eyes like daggers as she gazed at the trio. It had not escaped the Emperor, the way that his bride’s attention went straight to the Viking warrior when she emerged in her sacred garments rather than her husband-to-be. 

Instead of the joyous union the Emperor had hoped for, sailing into the ports of his empire with his bride’s hand in his, he stood there silently plotting. 

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It had seemed like an age since I had seen a city. The noises of people talking, the sounds of blacksmiths banging their hammers against sizzling hot metal, the smells of spices, herbs, and fresh fish as the ports busied with fishermen disposing of their catches. This would have all seemed wonderful, but the only thing my mind could focus on was the sleeping bundle in my arms. The way her tiny body cradled against mine, her head nuzzled upon my breast, my heart beating fast. Was it relief? Nerves? Panic? The questions spinning in my head. Was I holding her correctly? Was she warm enough? Did she seem healthy? So many aspects of motherhood that seemed so natural, but now I questioned if I was capable of caring for her every need. Mathilda sat closely, my head resting on her shoulder. Her arm pointing, words emitting from her mouth. I could feel the vibration of her words as I rested against her body, but I couldn’t hear a word. 

It had been only a fleeting minute that Harald had met the daughter he didn’t even know existed. Only moments before Mathilda eagerly led us to the ship they had travelled upon. As we descended down the hill to the boat, I glanced back to see Harald’s hand delicately nestled within Elena’s grasp, the pair whispering. As we boarded the Emperor’s ship, Harald, Leif and the rest of the group boarding Harald’s ship, I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. How could his attention be so quickly dismissed from his own daughter to the new empress? A feeling of betrayal as he didn’t even try and insist on chaperoning his own flesh and blood to the place where our new lives would be taking us? Did he not care? Was he angry that I had kept her existence a secret? Was he too infatuated with Elena? But I quickly reprimanded myself. Harald Sigurdsson does not owe me anything, I do not owe Harald Sigurdsson anything. 

I am free.

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‘Y/N’….’ Y/N…’ Like being awakened from a deep slumber, except I was already awake. My body jolted like I had been struck with a thunderbolt. The noises of the city pierced my ears, if it had not been for the sleeping bundle in my arms, I would have pressed my palms tightly against my ears to stop the noise. The sun shone so brightly, I would have shielded them if I could, as I looked up from that sweet innocent slumbering face to the thousands of people, the tall buildings and the vast colours that decorated the city of Constantinople. Mathilda stood, her hand outstretched. I looked around, the boat now populated by strange men boarding, tossing ropes across the boat. I gingerly stood up, letting Mathilda’s arm wrap around me as she guided us towards the wooden plank that led down to the dock. I took a deep breath, looking at my surroundings more closely. A feeling of overwhelming crisis taking over. How I had travelled so far, not of my own accord. If it weren’t for Twyla, I knew I would have been angry, destroyed, and possibly even violent. But even as much as I doubted my own ability to be a good mother, the overwhelming urge to protect her and not myself was stronger than those feelings of resentment. 

I slowly shuffled down the plank of wood, the Emperor stood at the bottom of the plank, one hand outstretched to me, his other dutifully holding up the hand of his new bride. I nervously gripped onto his hand, welcoming his steady grip as I clutched Twyla tightly, careful not to disturb or drop her. My senses overwhelmed, barely noticing the sizeable number of people gathered around the port, excitedly watching as the ships and their newcomers disembarked. ‘It’s beautiful, is it not?’ The Emperor’s deep voice emitted, his gaze fixated on me as my face emitted more emotion than I could explain. I looked at him, his face smiling as he clearly enjoyed the moment of a new person seeing his dazzling empire. It was only the feeling of his thumb gently brushing over my fingers that my old instincts kicked in. I gently dropped into a deep curtsey, aghast at my actions as I realised my hand was tightly gripped to that of an Emperor. ‘Forgive me Your Highness for my brazenness.’ The Emperor gently squeezed my hand. ‘For you my dear,  your enchantment on this occasion is understandable.’ As I rose from my curtsey, he lowered my hand, gently brushing his fingers against Twyla’s cheek. His face softened as he admired her. ‘Your daughter has and will continue to bring much joy to my Empire.’ 

‘Harald Sigurdsson’ Elena announced eloquently. I turned slightly to see Harald’s ship docked, looking unseemly behind the Emperors. The Emperor swiftly rounded me as he placed himself directly in front of the group. ‘Welcome to Constantinople’ his arms outstretched like a god, as the people behind him erupted into cheer. He turned around, addressing the crowd of people fixated upon his every move. ‘My people!’ He announced, bringing the cheers and clapping to a dutiful silence. ‘We welcome these newcomers to Constantinople. We celebrate and honour them, as they have returned one of Constantinople’s greatest treasures to its home.’ The crowds erupted into even louder cheers, some even brushing their weeping eyes. I gently pressed my hand against Twyla’s ear, attempting to deafen the overwhelming noise. 

A man waded through the crowd, his hair long and dark, his clothing modest but grand in material and embroidery. The Emperor laughed, his arms outstretched as he gruffly embraced the man, their hands slamming against each other's backs. The man’s eyes gazed at Mathilda with a large smile. The Emperor was quick, however, to turn his attention to Elena, the man dutifully bowing, kissing her knuckles gently as the Emperor looked on proudly. They chatted momentarily as we watched, too nervous to move. Another man swiftly joined, a much larger-looking man in a gold and red uniform. His protruding height made the Emperor look slightly smaller as he craned his neck, whispering something to the Emperor as his eye flickered to the rest of us. The Emperor turned, addressing Harald, Leif, and the rest. ‘Please, follow me’. The group tenderly waited for Elena and the Emperor to lead the way, Harald leading the group, his eyes only casting a look at myself, Mathilda and Twyla momentarily before he trekked after the pair. I stood by Mathilda, confused as she stood, not moving to follow. My confusion however grew as the man who had so gleefully embraced the Emperor hastily walked toward Mathilda, wrapping his arms around her waist, picking her up and spinning in a circle of embrace causing her to joyfully laugh. As he set her on the ground, he passionately kissed her, Mathilda smiling into the kiss as she tightly locked her arms around his neck. 

When they parted, he looked confusingly at Mathilda. ‘Where is?’ He began to ask before Mathilda quickly drew his attention. ‘Y/N, this is my betrothed, Consus’ she introduced stagnantly. ‘Conus, this is ‘Y/N, my dear friend, and Twyla’s mother’ she introduced. ‘Your betrothed?’ I asked confusingly, my eyes darting between the pair. She wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘Consus found Twyla and me after many days and nights after you and Kurya were taken, and brought us to safety in Constantinople’ she said, beaming up at him utterly lovestruck. He nodded ‘Hello Y/N, I know much about you’ he said with a tentative smile. ‘You…you bought my daughter and Mathilda here?’ I asked, shocked by the act of kindness that didn’t seem to phase him. ‘I was travelling here anyway, meeting Mathilda and your beautiful daughter was simply a happy coincidence.’ He explained, brushing the act off as if it were nothing. I walked forward, reluctantly parting from my daughter for the first time since our reunion. Mathilda, equally as confusingly, cradling Twyla to herself. I jumped, wrapping my arms around Consus’s neck as his arms caught my body surprised. ‘Thank you…thank you so much’ I cried into his shoulder. He placed me back down on the dock, as I unlaced one arm, wrapping Mathilda into the embrace. ‘Thank you both so much’ I repeated as I wept uncontrollably. 

It wasn’t until my crying had stopped I released the pair from my tight grip. But the pair didn’t seem to mind, they simply smiled at one another, engulfed in a spell-binding love for one another. I lifted the sleeve of my grotty garments, wiping the tears from my face. As I cleared my eyes, the obvious questions only then started to gather in my mind. ‘Wait…the Emperor?’ I asked pointing to him confusingly. ‘Oh.. my goodness, I’m so sorry’ I muttered, plunging myself into another instinctive curtsey. But Consus was quick to stop me. ‘Please Y/N, there is no need. Emperor Romanos and I are distant cousins, but I am not of noble birth.’ I looked at Mathilda, confused. ‘If Consus is not with me, he is with the Emperor, like two children playing together all the time’ she laughed, making Consus chuckle and nod in agreement. ‘I am simply, like you, a guest of my cousin’ he explained. His kindness was overwhelming, his natural conscience of goodwill was unbelievable. It seemed too good to be true…but my understanding of good had been destroyed over the last few years. I smiled slightly, the genuine kindness too much to truly believe; but it was certainly welcome. ‘Please, follow me to the palace.’ 

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‘You look like a new man’ the Emperor beamed, a friendly ice-breaker as Harald entered the throne room. ‘I smell it too’ Harald beamed, uncertain of the Emperor’s sense of humour, but relieved when the Emperor laughed. The Emperor strode to his podium, taking his seat on his throne, looking down as Harald stood in the centre of the room. 

‘My bride tells me that you, Harald Sigurdsson, are the reason that her venture here was successful. Would you say this to be true?’ He enquired curiously, slanting his head slightly as he watched Harald shift slightly uncomfortably. ‘I cannot truthfully say I knew what I was delivering, I can truthfully say that I am glad we have made it here…most of us anyway.’ The Emperor was not satisfied by this answer, however, unable to shake the feeling that Harald Sigurdsson’s rapport with his bride was as genuine as it seemed. He decided to delve deeper. 

‘My bride is particularly beautiful, is she not?’ He asked, causing Harald to breathe deeply as he stood solemnly before him. ‘Only the best for such a ruler and empire of your calibre’ he responded confidently. Another answer that failed to satisfy the Emperor’s suspicions. ‘She praises you highly Harald Sigurdsson’ he further commented, a slightly sinister tone beneath his friendly manner. ‘The Empress is too kind, she will make you a very happy man I am sure.’ Saliva hitched in his throat as he finished his sentence. Internally berating himself for his oblique statement. The Emperor simply smiled, but the comment ran silently amok in his mind. ‘So Harald Sigurdsson, tell me, what is it that will make you a happy man?’ He questioned, regaining his composure. ‘Most of my happiness lies back in my homeland of Denmark.’ Harald looked at the Emperor, wary of the sudden interest sparked. The Emperor gestured for him to continue. ‘I am the great-great-grandson of Harald Finehair, the first ruler of all of Norway; I intend to build an army and return to Norway to take what is rightfully mine by birth.’ Harald felt awkward, proclaiming rule in another man’s kingdom somehow felt informal. 

Little did he know, this was the most satisfactory answer he had given the Emperor. But something still pressed on his mind. ‘You said ‘most of your happiness’ what more could you want?’ He questioned, finally leaning forward as he placed his hand inquisitively under his chin. ‘My children are meant to be rulers of Norway, and I intend to fulfil that obligation too’. 

This caused the Emperor to rise from his seat.

‘And do you have children Harald Sigurdsson?’ He questioned persistently, an emote of excitement in his voice. Harald nodded slightly. ‘I have a child, back with a woman from my homeland; I do not know however if she or the child are even alive.’ Harald said sorrowfully. ‘And a child with another.’ The Emperor walked down the steps of his podium, walking so he stood right in front of him. ‘Who is this other?’ He questioned. ‘The mother of my daughter is y/n.’ The Emperor tilted his head, putting his finger up in the air and he wiggled it in thought. 

‘You are the father of Twyla?’ He stated a slight smile on his face. 

‘Twyla’ Harald repeated solemnly. 

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It felt like time had stopped. Like everything was too good, something bad was bound to happen. My daughter, my friend, and I were together again, alive. I felt like a little girl again, the way Mathilda sat behind the tub, her fingers gently massaging oils into my hair before scooping the warm water from the bath and pouring it over myself. I sat with my knees curled under my chin, desperately fighting my eyelids, too scared to take my eyes off Twyla for a second as she slept soundly in the basket on the floor. 

‘Tell me about her’ I whispered to Mathilda. I could hear the deepness of her breath, the sudden tenseness. The sponge came into contact as she rubbed circles on my back. ‘She’s a very quiet wee thing…barely fusses if there is someone she knows or a stranger…’ I rested my cheek on my knees, slightly turning to look in her direction. ‘But she only settles or sleeps in the arms of those she’s comfortable with’ she reasoned. Whether that statement was true or not, believing it was easier than accepting it as a friendly lie. I just wanted to feel connected to her. ‘She’s not a big baby, she doesn’t eat as much as she did with you…we have tried a few wet nurses, but she only takes to their breast if she’s starving, but even then she is quick.’ I smiled to myself slightly, feeling selfish at the thought, the way she was still so very small. A wave of guilt sizzled in my stomach at the thought of her starving herself for the milk of her own mother. ‘She smiles sometimes, she likes birds’ she chuckled. ‘Birds?’ I questioned, peeling my eyes away from Twyla, turning myself in the tub to look at Mathilda. ‘She sort of does a smile, and begins to wiggle when she hears birds chirping. Maybe it’s something she remembers from when she was with all of us, Kurya too’ she theorised. I looked back to Twyla, curious that an infant could have the emotional intelligence to recognise and respond to something as simple as a bird. 

*Phwwwwwhht Phwwwwwhht Phwwwwwhht* I whistled, like an experiment, sounding slightly rusty in the dryness of my throat. 

A tiny coo sounded from the wicker basket. Mathilda and I chucked at the adorableness. 

‘Thank you, truly.’ I whispered, knowing that words alone would never be able to express the depth of gratitude. 

The door opened slightly, and a woman ushered herself in with a small pile of folded fabrics. She walked over, placing the fabrics next to the bath, swiftly grasping my tattered, likely mouldy garments and inspecting their worth. Her lips locked tightly together, poking her fingers through the holes and tears, before swiftly waltzing over to the stone fireplace and thrusting them into the flames. She slowly wandered over to Twyla’s basket, crouching down as she smiled, admiring the little girl. Mathilda coughed slightly, sensing my tenseness and wary as I gripped tightly to the side of the tub. ‘Y/N, this is Inaya, one of the wet nurses I was telling you about.’ I felt ashamed, almost angry at the thought of someone else other than me feeding my daughter. Anger at not being there, petty at the thought of women like Inaya having that precious bonding time with my daughter instead of me. But, then again, if it weren’t for women like Inaya, Twyla might not be here. I begrudgingly loosened my grip, wrapping my arms back around my legs. ‘Thank you’ I croaked solemnly. She nodded gently, reaching into the basket and rearranging the blanket on top of her. 

‘The Emperor invites you to join him in dining with him tonight. The invite is extended to you and your daughter, it will be a small private gathering.’ She spoke, walking back to the pile of fabrics, unfolding a long, full-sleeved white linen dress, embroidered with tasteful small colourful floral embellishments. I looked to Inaya, beginning to protest. ‘Thi…this gown is much too grand…I can’t…’ ‘This dress was chosen for you by the Emperor himself, you must wear this.’ She lectured, holding a long linen sheet as she hastily ushered me out of the warm tub. 

‘Let us properly dress and groom you for the occasion’ she said, wrapping the cloth around my shoulders, and ushering me to the fireplace to dry. 

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Harald had attended many feasts, whether he was a guest, or they were thrown in his honour, he would usually feel at ease. However, whether it be the lack of food since Novgorod, or that feasts in Constantinople were just much grander than his homeland, the delicious display of food almost made him feel sick. The table, which had been referred to as ‘modest’ was filled with delicacies. Fruits, loaves of bread, grains, fish, meats, steam still wavering from the plates, emitting wonderful smells and heat that danced across his senses. Leif tentatively walked toward the table, stealing a grape or two. ‘I don’t understand, why does the Emperor want both of us?’ Leif questioned quietly. But Harald did not answer him, instead cautiously waiting for the Emperor to deliver that news himself before Harald could think too much about it. 

The double doors to the grand dining hall flew open, a small group of straight-faced guards marching after the pair in front. The Emperor and Empress, dressed in even grander garments than their meeting that morning. Harald couldn’t peel his eyes away, how for the last month or so he had been acquainted with Elena, the humble and loyal daughter, the fearless combatant and quick thinker in the face of danger. But now, within hours, she was no longer that person. Harald couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed, yet somewhat relieved that he could pursue his loyalties to another he yearned for. But, the thoughts of the two women still caused an internal battle inside his head, no matter how much he knew that he desired one more than the other, it was still a loss either way. 

Behind the group of guards, another entered the room, her head lowered to the ground as she carefully watched her steps. Her dress was too big as it lightly slung over her frame. Her ‘Y/H/C hair was adorned with a silky white headband tied into a neat long bow at the back of her head. A piece of fabric tied to her frame, cradling a small child tightly to her. It took Leif and Harald a moment to recognise the person as the person they already knew so well. 

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I didn’t need to look up. I could feel the stares from across the room, but vainly I couldn’t judge them, I was also perplexed by my reflection in the looking glass. The smell of flowery soap was almost sickening compared to the salty, sweaty odour I had become so used to. 

When I finally peeled my eyes from the infant gently nestled against my chest, I was struck by the amount of food covering the table in the centre of the room. Even since our rescue this morning, I had not thought for one moment about the empty pit in my stomach. So many colours, so many textures, so many flavours and smells that had become so foreign, even though they were once the same things I served daily in my youth in the castle. A lot of food for a ‘small private gathering’ I thought…

‘My friends’ the Emperor announced, standing at the forefront of the room with Elena dutifully by his side. Her pale eyes piercing as I tried to look anywhere but her intense gaze that lay upon me. ‘Tonight, we are here, I hope for a very joyous occasion’ he announced, a smile beaming across his cheeks. Everyone in the room now watching the Emperor with an aura of confusion. ‘Harald Sigurdsson has confided in me, his ambition to return to Norway to take his rightful place as King, and he will do so with my full support.’ The only person to look away from the Emperor was the Empress herself, her gaze shifting to Harald, an expression of dejection in her eyes. ‘And every King must secure his succession’ he announced, taking a step forward as he gestured toward me at the back of the room. ‘Come, please, y/n’ he spoke. 

My stare was blank like my feet were nailed to the floor. Not even the gentle grasping of Twyla’s fingers at my hair was enough to shift me from this moment of derealisation. ‘The Emperor has commanded you’ Elena hissed, taking a step forward. It was only the gentle whisper of my name that prompted my feet to move slowly forward. ‘Y/N’ Leif Eriksson had whispered. I stumbled forward, clutching at the skirt of my dress to not trip over the fabric, while closely clutching the makeshift baby sling closer to me as if I was stepping right into the lion’s den. The Emperor was patient until I stood before him. ‘What kind of life would you both like for your daughter?’ I looked at the Emperor curiously, unsure of his question. Both? ‘You and your husband?’ He questioned. I could feel my insides clenching, and my heart beating faster. The Christian iconography had not escaped me. The adornment of religious relics were scattered all over Constantinople. The large crucifix hanging from his neck. I could feel my arm tighten around Twyla, the way my mother had held me closely as a child when people berated me for my unorthodox parentage. Maybe I could lie? Say my husband was dead? The thoughts running through my head. 

‘We are not married.’ Harald’s voice emitted, stepping toward me, standing stiffly by my side. I looked at him, my eyeballs bulging out of my head as I looked at him in a state of panic. The Emperor stared at us both, attempting to look surprised, but there was something about his gaze that emitted the truth. This information was no surprise to him. The Emperor stood there and continued his performance. ‘Harald Sigurdsson, I was made to believe that many Vikings had accepted Christ as their lord and saviour?’ He questioned. Harald reached into his tunic, pulling out his crucifix as a display of his faith. ‘But, you have sired this child out of wedlock’ he stated. I looked at Leif warily, Leif was also uncomfortable as his sister had also supposedly carried Harald’s child. Harald only replied with a curt nod. ‘How do you expect your people to accept this child as a future noblewoman…possibly even Queen of Norway if she is not of sacred birth?’ 

I wanted to scream. How dare these men assume my daughter’s future for her. How dare they assume that royalty was a safe life for her. How dare they assume that this was my desire for her too. How. Dare. He.

‘I don’t want her to be a Queen…I want her to be happy’ I said, confidently speaking for the first time. The Emperor’s act dropped slightly, the surprise on his face genuine. ‘You do not want this life for her? Education? Protection? Loyalty? Family? He questioned, gesturing to his palace around him, clearly retailing in his own life. ‘It is not that your highness, I want her to have those things, I just don’t necessarily believe that instructing and grooming my daughter for a life of nobility is the only way for her to have those things.’ The room fell even more tense, one might even hear the sound of a pin drop. The Emperor walked forward like time had slowed down. I could feel his every step vibrate across the ground, the sound of his shoe beating against the floor. The callouses of his fingers as he slipped them under my chin, and forced me to look at him. ‘Aren’t mothers supposed to want the best for their children?’ He questioned solemnly. I could feel my heart ripping apart. Every insecurity, every internal crisis I had felt about being a mother. Was this, was my personal feelings a recipe for destruction, was I endangering my daughter? 

He stepped back, and his poised composure returned as he fell back into his performance. ‘Here is my offer. Harald, I cannot help you build a Christian army, a Christian empire if you do not practice such convictions in your own life. A King must have a legitimate heir, he must have a legitimate marriage sanctioned by the Church. I have the desire to help you build this but with the eyes of my people, my council, and my bride, you must understand that not even I hold the power to make such a miracle happen without the guidance and principles of our lord at its core.’ Harald shifted uncomfortably, his fists crunching into himself as he put them protectively behind his back. But Harald simply matched the Emperor’s performance. ‘May I have the opportunity to discuss this with y/n privately?’ He questioned in a way that submitted to the ego of the Emperor, making him feel strong in his position. The Emperor peeled a smile across his face. ‘Of course’ he said, gesturing to a small wooden door across the room. 

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‘What have you done?’ I hissed quietly, clutching Twyla closely. Harald paced around the small room, his knuckles white as he clutched his fingers within his grip. ‘He promised…he promised he would help me’ he muttered angrily to himself. ‘I don’t give a damn about what he promised you, my baby will not be forced to be Queen of some nation that she’s never fucking been.’ ‘She is MY child too y/n’ he hissed, thumping his hand against his chest. ‘Only in the formal sense’ I hissed back passively. ‘Well you can hardly blame me for that…all that time we travelled across the seas, across countries, and you NEVER said a word about our daughter’s existence.’ 

‘Why did you leave?’

I finally asked. Never having had the courage to ask that question. He stopped his pacing, placing his hand gingerly against the wall, his eyes darting to the floor, his composure dropping entirely from the fierce Viking he normally was. ‘Why? Why did you leave that night? You left me in London’ my voice cracked slightly, the gasping of my breath desperate to hide my pain, the anger and betrayal, but mostly the sense of loss I had long felt since that night. 

‘I had stolen so much from you Saxon…I reasoned with myself that if I left you where you had started…where I thought belonged, that life would be better to you than I had so cruelly been’ he whispered, his voice cracking and he spoke, his hand coming up and gripping his mouth to silence the sound. 

A version of Harald that was so rare. A side of him he wouldn’t even let Leif see. And yet, he stood there, his eyes averted in shame, the truth finally spilling. ‘Had I known you were with child…I would have done things differently.’ He turned around, his back turned, hiding the shame he felt spilling his emotions. He let out a sigh, a gentle whistle emitting from his lips. 

*phwoooooh*

Her legs began to gently kick, and a small coo at the sound. Harald turned his head slightly, the sound of his baby like a lightning strike to his body. Exactly how I had felt. As much as I wanted to sit here and argue, to curse him for leaving, to execrate him and the Vikings for all they had done to me. But an annoying part of me cared for him. For being Twyla’s father. I closed my eyes, my thoughts running wildly. Outside this small room, the Emperor waited. Inside this room, the fate of my family was still somewhat within my control. An opportunity that could change all our lives for the better, rather than continue to exist in this confusing state of limbo that had gone on long before we set foot in Constantinople. 

‘Here is what we are going to do.’ Harald turned around, his eyes puffy, slightly red. ‘Twyla will not be Queen of Norway. She will not be a noblewoman. Our job, as her parents, will be this and only this.’ I stated, raising my finger and pointing it at Harald’s chest. ‘We will build a life for her for which she can be safe, happy, and will have choices.’ Harald finally looked at Twyla, their eyes meeting as she stared at him curiously. ‘You will get the Emperor to help you build your army, but while we are here, you will do some things for me.’ His eyes didn’t shift from Twyla, their eyes firmly locked on one another, but he nodded his head. ‘You will find us somewhere to live, somewhere that is not in this castle, somewhere normal where we can live in peace without the Emperor and the Empress controlling our every move. You will find a tutor, for when Twyla comes of age so she will have the opportunity to learn and have an education. But most importantly, you will let me live a normal life with her, not one dictated by your ambition to be King, but a normal, stable life where she can be happy. Those are my conditions.’ Harald finally looked at me, his face aghast. ‘You mean?’ He questioned. ‘Yes. I will agree to the marriage, but only so that the Emperor will help us, he doesn’t need to know the specifics.’ I raised my arm, holding my hand out. A gesture to seal the deal. I was sceptical if Harald Sigurdsson would be willing to not only lie to the Emperor but to relinquish so much control. But Harald looked at Twyla, his eyes softening, his breath easing. His arm locked against mine, with a firm shake. 

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The trio emerged from the room, the Emperor watching carefully, his solution would either fail or succeed. Harald approached the Emperor, a dutiful bow as he did. ‘Your offer is most kind, and with your blessing and support, we would like to accept your generous offer to wed us.’ 

The Emperor smiled, a joyful laugh emitting as his plans fell into place. With Harald Sigurdsson married, with a wife and child, his own marriage would not be threatened by the Empresses’ obvious care for the Viking. A solution so clever, the Emperor so vainly joyful with his brilliance. 

‘Well let us not waste such a glorious moment, let us call upon the clergy and have the beautiful couple wed tonight!’ He announced, his council already walking out of the room to gather the necessary people to unify Harald and y/n. 

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The room began to bustle as the Emperor didn’t waste a moment. I scanned the room, only one pair of eyes fixated on me as she stood with the Emperor. I couldn’t tell who was paler. Elena, or me. 

[berglietz]

“ Hey! Caspar, right? ”‎‎ ‎ Leif approaches the other nobleman.‎‎ ‎‎‎ “ I told you I'd remember you. I'm glad I did. ”

Memory for names to faces, especially as outfits and settings change, can at times be tricky, even trickier for fleeting moments for how people can pass through one another's lives, but the night they met, the experience that forged their dynamic, is one Leif had sworn to sear into his mind.

‎‎“ It's not the same as before, exactly, but I want to be the one to give you a token this time. ”‎‎ ‎‎ With that, Leif removes one of the teardrop crystals from his brooch and holds it out as an offering to the Black Eagle.‎‎ ‎‎ “ You had given me something, and so I wish to return it. But I do not wish for our allyship to end with a favor returned. I'd like to be your ally after this too. ”

"Yep, that's me!" Caspar chirps, eyes brightening with recognition as he properly turns toward the one calling his name. "And you're Leif. I wouldn't forget a guy who gave me so much to think about." What had started as a simple candy-gathering competition had turned into a real conundrum by the time he'd been assigned to Leif as a game partner. Truthfully, he still isn't sure if he's satisfied with his own choices at the time. In order to protect his pride, he'd closed the door on one final alliance for the game—and yet Leif stands here despite the betrayal. On the positive side, it's nice to remember that there's always room to open new doors together. "You said that today's enemies can become tomorrow's allies, right? It was nice hearing it put so simply like that." He takes the crystal in his left palm, squeezing it to feel the cool facets press against his skin. With his right, he plucks a bell from his own brooch. It jingles playfully as he offers it in turn with a smile. "I don't want us to be stuck in a favor-returning loop forever, so you can just consider this one a gift from a friend if you'd like."

[beneathtreemomo]

My One Piece OC, Lagtha "Kit" Rori!

His name is Lagtha "Kit" Rori, and he can see and interact with the dead. I haven't completely decided on if he's 24 or 26 pre-timeskip, but I'm leaning towards 26.

He's also a Prince of a kingdom in North Blue called Valstasia.

Valstasia is a well-known kingdom in the North, praised for their furs and leathers (often created from creatures hard to find elsewhere, or particularly rowdy and difficult to take down). But mostly, the country is known as a country of magic-- is even given the moniker "the Country of Fae". Fairytales, runes, curses, spells, demons-- the country was known for its dedication to studying and embracing all of this. Very few countries actually believed in those same things, but it was a quirk many found charming. Some of the more annoying ones mocked Valstasia for it. But the kingdom was still considered highly across the world.

When Rori is about nine or ten, he almost dies. Drowning, getting reared by a horse, taking a dangerous fall-- something. (Haven't figured out what I want it to be yet) The stress of the event was enough to awaken his Haki, but it also changed it.

At first, everyone assumes it's shock-- the little one nearly DIED after all, and it was traumatic enough it turned parts of Rori's hair white; that's scary for anybody. But then, within a few days, they realize it's something else. Especially when Rori shows that he's somehow managed to awaken Observation Haki.

It becomes a well-known secret in Valstasia that the youngest prince has a "strange haki".

Upon some research, his family decides that it must be an offset of Observation Haki that came from Rori nearly dying that now allowed him to see the dead. The closer to the castle you lived, the more likely you were to know the details of Rori's ability, though no one aside from the family knew just what it was Rori could see.

His father, Haesgard, wasn't sure what to make of Rori's strange haki at first. Thought little of it in the grand scheme of things because it would make Rori too odd for it to be an issue, and he was more concerned by his step-brother's steadily rising popularity.

Haesgard poisons Kit's uncle, knowing he would never win against the Devil Fruit user in a fair fight. Leif dies when Rori is around 14.

He then catches Rori talking to Leif one day and it's like the implications of Rori's observation haki being odd really hits him. He starts making plans to use that ability for himself, though Rori is smart enough not to fall for it.

Then, when Rori is 21, things start going wrong.

Because Rori is now old enough to take the crown.

Haesgard plots something that his mother and brother overhear, or at least rightfully assume is about to happen, and they decide to get Rori out of the country as quickly as possible.

Lavi dies helping Rori escape from the country, finding him as a ghost anywhere from a few hours to a few days later.

Rori travels, Lavi and Leif by his side, all across the North Blue. He uses the name Kit, covers his face with makeup because everyone in North Blue is aware of the fact the Lagtha Royal Family all have constellation-like freckles/beauty marks under their right eyes.

A few years later, Valstasia falls to Haesgard's lust for power. Haesgard's hubris caused a violent monster attack-- there are theories there were demons involved, and that is why so few people managed to flee the destruction-- that wiped out most of the country before it was even aware of there being an issue. Kit's mother and younger sister perish.

Almost no one leaves the country alive. The survivors that do scatter to the winds.

Across the world, however, a quiet rumor began circulating. One of hope for a kingdom steadily being forgotten to the world.

The youngest prince's body had never been found.

There are rumors, across the Grand Line. Survivors of a kingdom fallen from grace whisper of a young man with a constellation under his right eye.

His Highness Lagtha Rori still lives.

And he will reclaim the throne.

(Kit meeting Law as well as some outfit variants are beneath the cut)

Kit and Law meet on an island a few years later, only a few years after Law, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi have started the Heart Pirates. They've gather a few crew members by now and are making a name for themselves.

Law is passing time until he is allowed back onto the Tang (the rest of the crew was being taken down by a cold and Shachi and Penguin forbade him from coming back until he was no longer at risk of catching said virus) by going hunting for a cursed mirror. Kit is his Very Annoying Roommate at the tavern that also happens to be going after the mirror.

Things happen and Kit joins the crew with Law carrying the knowledge that Kit can interact with ghosts, but not the knowledge that Kit is a prince, nor that Cora is following Law as a ghost.

By the time Sabaody comes around, Kit is very firmly one of Law's closest friends-- so close they are in a qpr, and Law now knows that Cora is still by his side. The prince thing, however... that might still need some addressing.

[aquilamage]

It’s been so long since I’ve been in a writing mood...have this (spoilers for the inciting incident part of chapter 5):

Neo startled awake, just catching himself from falling out of his chair. Clutching the arms, he breathed as he waited for his heart to slow down (and hopefully for the sleep-disorientation to lessen). Usually if he fell asleep sitting up it was from getting distracted on his research, but he wasn’t at his desk or covered in papers, so why-

He glanced to the side, where his bed was just within reach. Ah, right.

The Wasps had invaded, and even as they broke into the throne room all Neo could do was watch from the corner. Kabbu and his friends arriving had seemed like a godssend (the same as in the Outskirts)… until the Wasp King had summoned a blast of fire that took out all three of them at once. He had barely paid attention to what was happening after that, numb as he watched them struggle to remain upright.

Leif had fainted clean away the moment the Queen finished speaking, the other two shaky even as they sprung to catch him. When the guards escorted them to another chamber to treat their injuries, he’d felt compelled to follow, even useless as he was to do anything but watch.

So when the issue of where to put them arose (the infirmary being overfull and town not declared safe to go back to yet) he’d jumped to offer his room. The three of them just managed to pile in his bed, and he’d set himself up to watch, and worry.

They were still asleep now, peaceful to all outward appearances. Vi had curled up almost entirely on top of Leif, Kabbu on the other side with an arm over them. It sent a pang through his stomach to watch, seeing the physical evidence of how much they’d been through (and a spark of ill-founded jealousy that he immediately shoved away).

Then, with no ceremony or warning, Kabbu opened his eyes. Neo flinched, but it seemed Kabbu hadn’t noticed, instead doing a frantic little check over his companions before settling back down with a shaky sigh. A moment later, though, his head was up again. “Where…?”

Then, their eyes met. “Neo? Are you alright?”

“...Me?”

But apparently that wasn’t the right response, because Kabbu promptly disentangled himself, rolled out of bed, and stumbled over towards him.

“No, I’m okay!” He tried to guide Kabbu to at least sit in the chair, but then he just clung tightly to his arms. “But you should still be resting.”

“I’ll be fine.” His voice was distant as he looked Neo up and down.

It was the same appraising gaze Kabbu’d set on his friends, but having it directed at himself gave Neo shivers. He might have instinctively shied away, were he not being held onto. The whole thing couldn’t have taken longer than a few moments, but it seemed to last forever.

Until, with a shaky breath, voice raspy, Kabbu spoke. “I was so worried. When we got into town, and they said they’d gotten to the castle, and you weren’t with everyone who got evacuated…” One hand let go of Neo’s arm to lightly trace up, stopping to rest on the side of his face. In a bare whisper, he said, “I don’t think I could bear to lose you.” And then Kabbu tugged him down to kiss him.

The first was soft, so quick it was over by the time he registered it happening. But then Kabbu looked at him, still holding on, and whispered “I- Was that alright?” He practically tripped over his own mouth saying “yes” and Kabbu stretched up for another, one that Neo melted into.

When they parted, Kabbu let his arms, which he’d looped over Neo’s shoulders, drift to his waist.

Neo just sighed contentedly, chin rested on top of Kabbu’s head (mindful of his horn). For a little while, he just let himself drift: warm, safe, held.

When he finally opened his eyes, he stiffened.

Leif had his head propped up on top of his folded arms, watching. When their eyes met, his flat expression slowly morphed into a smirk, and he gave him a thumbs-up without lifting his hand from the bed.

Now his mind was blank for a completely different reason. He stared, face heating up.

“Neo?” Kabbu pulled back to look up at him. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, no! I mean, yes! I mean- uh…” He rested his hands on his chest, sight fixed just to the side of Kabbu’s head. “Sorry, I-” For a second he glanced back at the bed (Kabbu twisting to follow), but Leif was lying again, looking for all the world as if he’d always been asleep. Neo was pretty sure he hadn’t imagined it, but he also had not gotten much sleep (for the past few days, he realized, guiltily). “...I don’t know.”

“Well, why don’t you sit down,” he said, guiding him back to the chair. “Do you need anything else? Blankets? A pillow? Water? Food? I don’t know where the dining area is but I’m sure I could find-”

“Ah, no. Kabbu? ...Kabbu?” Neo reached out and grabbed his hand to keep him still. “Breakfast is probably a good idea, soon. But we should wait for your friends to wake up.”

“Mm, yes...yes.” His voice was distant as he stared at their hands.

Warmth bloomed in him, escaping in the form of a little smile. To simply have this moment as it was, no hesitations, no qualifiers...it was even better than he could have imagined.

Loathe as he was to ever let go, Kabbu was swaying on his feet. “I have another chair.” He pointed by way of explanation. “You can drag it over here.”

Of course Kabbu did not actually drag it. He lifted it off the ground and carried it all the way in one go. It wasn’t nearly as heavy or big as the armchair Neo was currently in, but it was still solid, sturdy wood, and watching made Neo’s heart flutter.

When he sat, Kabbu instantly reached for his hand again. As he held it, he traced his thumb lightly over Neo’s palm. “So...how has your research been going?”

“Well, most of it had been focused on the Sapling artifacts…” He wilted, remembering the previous day’s events. “But! I did have a little time to work on a personal project.”

And so Kabbu sat with half-lidded eyes and a little smile, listening to him talk.

Eventually, though, the spell was broken as Leif mumbled something and then groaned as he sat up. Or rather, attempted to, until he encountered Vi’s weight.

“Nngh. Come back with a warrant,” she grumbled.

But he only rolled her off. Noticing the two of them, he gave the laziest wave.

“How are you feeling?” Kabbu asked.

“Mm, ‘he’ is still fine...We don’t really have it in us to care at the moment.”

“Ah, I appreciate that, although I meant more in terms of healing.

“Oh.” Leif said, vaguely. “We’ve been better. But we’ve also felt worse. ...Hungry.”

Kabbu exhaled a laugh. “We can get something once Vi wakes up.”

He nodded, slowly, then turned to regard her. After a moment he gave a singular additional nod, and reached out toward her.

“Wait, Leif-”

But by that point he’d already put both hands flat on the back of her neck.

She shrieked and flailed. (If Kabbu’s frantically attempted dissuading hadn’t been clue enough, the way Leif instantly jumped away from her before he could get smacked made it obvious this had happened before.) “Hey! What was that for?”

“We want breakfast.”

With a huff and a roll of the eyes, she pulled a corner of blanket over herself.

Leif turned to them for help, but Kabbu just shook his head.

“You’re hopeless,” he said. He opened his mouth to add something else, stopped, and then his gaze focused on them. “Mmm.” A smile appeared. “Are we to assume congratulations are in order?” When they both stared at him, he gestured to where they were still holding hands.

Kabbu jumped, but didn’t let go. “Ah, well…” And now he was flushing. “I suppose, yes,” he said in a small voice.

“Nice.”

Vi sat up, squinting at them. “What are you talking about?”

“They’re dating.”

The bluntness of that statement hit Neo like a boulder. Flushing, he buried his face in Kabbu’s shoulder.

“Finally. Now he can stop being all weird every time we come here.”

A short, airy laugh and then, “Nah. If anything now he’s going to be mushier. All the time.”

“Ugh.”

Tensing even more, Kabbu yelled. “Hey!”

Leif sighed, although there was an amused note to it. “We didn’t say it was a bad thing.” Kabbu must have made some expression in response, because after a moment he added, “Alright; we’ll drop it, but we want food.”

Vi mumbled something under her breath, but as Neo was cautiously lifting his head, he saw her hop off the bed.

Shortly after, they were all set to go. Neo let everyone else file out first so he could lock the door behind them. When he turned, he was surprised to see Kabbu waiting there next to him.

“They ah, they weren’t too much for you?” Whispering, he glanced at Vi and Leif who were already halfway down the hall. “That’s how they usually are, but I can ask them not to if you’re-” he waved a hand.

“No, I’m fine. It was just...a lot all at once.”

“And you’re sure,” he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re okay with...us?”

“Yes,” he said, much louder than he intended. Covering his mouth, he whispered, “Yes.”

“Good.” Then he leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

An undignified squeak escaped him, but Kabbu just kissed him again, which made it hard to care.

“Oi! We’re not waiting up for you!” Vi called, leaning around the corner.

With a tiny sigh, Kabbu stepped back and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

He took it. “Yes.”

[mantisgodsaus]

Fun Scars With Wereweevil Vi

A short list of the major scars that Vi has acquired throughout her life, in order of acquisition.

1 - Turning bite on arm. Received sneaking off the path at a Golden Festival. The scar tissue will occasionally shimmer more bluish if in the right light, as if the hemolymph beneath it were bright blue, rather than the yellow-green of a bee.

2 - Spiral scars on arm. Caused by severe distortion of arms during delayed transformations. Renewed every full moon.

3 - Claw marks on lip. Caused by a bug clawing open her lip while attempting to force her mouth open. The scarring exposes the flesh around the base of her tusk on this side. If you look carefully, you can see how it roots into her head.

4 - Slash marks on neck. Inflicted by a scimitar during an attempt at holding one of Astotheles' messengers hostage, after negotiations broke down. Experimental tech breaking into her shell embedded crystal debris in the wound. The curse prevents this from resulting in more than a gnarlier scar, but these will occasionally react to presence to strong magic. Being in close proximity to Leif's stronger attacks can give her a stiff neck.

5 - Claw marks on head (continuation of claw marks on lip). Caused by a bug digging their claws into the old scars on her lip and dragging towards her eye. Increased durability limited the impact of this. Increased durability is also the only reason she still has that eye.

6 - Scar in side. Inflicted via centipede sting in bee form. Relic of The Beast fight.

[niemernuet]

Short untitled one-shot about Sander and Henrik that came to me after Henrik's memorable show in Sölden with the protesters and his subsequent excuse that he was just angry that they were ruining Sander's race. Bit different maybe, heed the warning.

rating: M pairing: none for main, Timon/Clément if you squint characters: Alexander Steen Olsen, Henrik Kristoffersen, Timon Haugan, Sebastian Foss Solevaag, Leif Kristian Haugan, Clément Noel, Atle Lie McGrath, Lucas Braathen, OC warnings: non-con, assault

“It’s not usually like this.”

Timon spoke quietly, as if he dared not be louder than the hushed voices filling the spacious hall with a soft murmur.

Sander picked at his face mask, and gave him a quizzical look.

“You know,” Timon said, and waved his hand through the air, “the…mood. Normally, World Cup races are great fun, it’s just with Atle and Lucas both injured…” He left the sentence unfinished, and instead ended it with a shrug.

Even though a paper mask was hiding most of his face, the grin on Sander’s face was clearly recognizable.

“Oh, I’m not bored at all. Not with Seb and…hey, Seb, who’s that writer again?”

Sebastian sat on the other side of the coffee table in a comfortable lounge chair. “Håkan Nesser,” he said, not unfriendly and yet without looking up from his book.

“Håkan Nesser,” Sander said to Timon before turning to Seb again. “And is it still good?”

Sebastian chuckled. “Oh, you have no idea! The detective just found out that the dead journalist had a wife who went missing on a hike a few years earlier. That totally came out of nowhere and changes everything!”

“No way!” Sander exclaimed, and looked at Timon. “That changes the whole story!” He watched earnestly as Timon snorted into his mask.

“Yeah,” Seb said, too immersed in his book to see much of his surroundings. “This man can produce nothing but bangers.”

“Evidently,” Sander answered, while Timon shoved a hand under his mask, and bit down on it. With another grin, Sander turned towards the large window front opening towards the main street, and while Timon kept fighting for composure he watched as the masses of people washed through the small village like endless waves. Right next to the entrance to the hotel, Leif was standing by a pot of dead box wood with the well-known dopey smile that indicated that he was face-timing his children. In little more than two hours there would be the opening ceremony where the best racers would get to draw their starting number and while neither Timon nor Sander had to participate, they did have to be present for a few interviews and photo shootings with sponsors beforehand. It was the second to last station of the world cup before the finals in Switzerland, which again, neither Timon nor Sander were invited to.

A sharp gust of cold air blew into their corner when the door from the reception hall of the hotel flew open, and another Norwegian athlete rushed inside.

“Are we having the interviews here?” Henrik barked at Timon, and glared across the room.

“They’re still prepping the last things,” Timon said, rolling his eyes at Sander. “Can’t be long now.”

“It fucking better,” Henrik snarled. “I don’t have all day.”

“It’s almost evening,” Sander muttered behind his mask, making Timon snort again. He caught himself quickly though.

“Hey, Henrik, have you already met Alexander? It’s his second time in the World Cup.”

Henrik paused for a few moments, his gaze resting on Sander at the same time irritated and utterly bored. Sander gave it back in strides, and when Henrik finally walked away, his middle finger shot up.

Timon chuckled. “He’s in a wonderful mood today.”

-----

The atmosphere in Kranjska Gora was unlike any other place in the entire World Cup. Sure, there would be another race, the big final where the crystal globes were handed out but as only the best of the best were invited there, the races in Slovenia were the end of the season for the big masses, and they treated it with the appropriate gravity.

The strict rules of the pandemic ended at the threshold to the bar, and neither Timon nor Sander, much like a substantial part of the other athletes, questioned the legality of the place. The bodies were packed tightly together, and the thumping bass seemed to move them in the rhythm of the strobing light. Timon pulled Sander through the crowd, and ordered the first round at the bar. Sebastian and Leif, of course, had opted for an early bedtime with Håkan Nesser and a videocall with the family respectively.

"Next time will be better," Timon yelled over the noise as he toasted with Sander. He nodded, still a bit annoyed with himself and the way he had lost control of his skis in the heavy snow. He took a big swig so he would not have to say anything. Slowly, they made their way through the crowd while Timon introduced Sander with every step they made. He knew all of them, some from races in the European Cup, and some from television. The Swiss delegation seemed to have arrived in its entirety; no wonder after their double victory today. Odermatt and the short one who had not been on the podium danced together, pretty much the only Swiss to do so, and Sander had to step out of their way when Timon pulled him past. They ended up close to a wall at the other end of the bar, near a group of French athletes. It only took Sander a short while to realise that Timon had stationed them there deliberately.

"I knew I'd find you in here," Clément yelled as he raised his glass towards them. Sander did not even know the bar carried wine. It certainly did not look the kind.

"We have reasons to drink today, so…" Timon answered, and pointed to his left. "That's Sander. He's new."

"I watched your race today," Clément said. "Well, I watched your split times in the app, at least. I thought it was glitching because it showed so much green. At least until…you know…" He grinned, and Sander was forced to answer with a thin smile.

"He'll beat you in no time," Timon threw in, and Clément laughed.

He eyed Timon over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his red. "Have you thought about what I said?

Timon rolled his eyes but the fond smile betrayed him. "I told you I'm in…"

"…negotiations," Clément finished for him. "I know you are very in demand. But have you considered that you will find nobody better than Dynastar?"

Timon laughed, and Sander could barely hear his answer over the noise. Quietly he sipped his beer while the gap between him and the other two grew wider. Timon nodded when he offered to fetch the next round while Clément mustered him with that faint, slightly condescending smile that only the French could, conveying perfectly how glad he was to get rid of him. Without another look back, Sander squeezed through the crowd, jostled across the floor by the mass of bodies until he reached the counter on the other end. The two barkeepers could barely keep up with orders raining down on them from every direction, and Sander resigned to a long wait. He watched them hurry up and down the length of the bar, raising his hand whenever one came close, and it took him a while to realise the pair of eyes resting on him. The guy was not bad to look at, under the dim, strobing light anyway, a bit older than Sander, rugged but not unkempt, and with a curious gleam in his eyes.

He leant closer, and Sander's heart sped up when his breath landed on his ear. "First time?"

Sander pressed his lips together, and shook his head, hoping that the blush on his cheeks was not visible. "No," he lied. "I've been to bars before."

The other guy laughed. "I mean in Kranjska Gora."

Sander's cheeks felt like one of the red lightbulbs flickering above but the other guy simply patted him on the shoulder before he leant over the counter, and held out his hand.

"Here, on me," the guy smiled, and offered him one of the shot glasses.

"I'm supposed to fetch three beers for my friends," Sander said weakly, and looked after the barkeeper who was already halfway down the room again. His shoulder still throbbed from the short touch.

"Three?" the other asked. "That's one too many. Are you sure they want them?"

Sander still hesitated, his gaze dashing towards the back of the bar. As if on cue a gap opened in the bodies moving on the dance floor, revealing Timon and Clément deep in conversation, their heads almost touching. Sander snorted, and looked back to the guy. He grabbed the little glass, clinked it against the other, and threw it back. It burnt all the way down into his stomach, and it took a few seconds until he had full control over his face again.

"Not bad," the guy laughed. "Almost as fast as you are on skis." He drank his shot without blinking, and turned back to the bar. It was as if he had a telepathic connection to the barkeepers the way he could get their attention with ease.

"I really shouldn’t…" Sander began. The guy turned around, and his friendly yet sharp gaze made Sander's stomach flutter as hard as the shot before. He slid closer, until their thighs were touching, and his hand was resting on Sander's hip. Jolts of electricity surged through Sander's body.

He realised that they were the same height. "Sorry," the guy smiled, "couldn't hear you over the music. You were saying?"

Sander swallowed hard. "I've got another race tomorrow."

"So you already want to leave me?"

"No, I just…"

"Great!" the guy laughed, turned back to the bar, and before Sander knew, he had another tiny glass in his hand.

"I watched your race today. You'll do just fine." He eyed Sander expectantly until he drank his shot.

"I'm not so sure," Sander coughed through the burning sensation in his throat. "But if it helps me reach the finish line."

The guy laughed, and swapped the empty glass in Sander's hand with a full one. "If you can trust the locals then this will help against every bad thing you can only imagine."

Sander laughed. The shots had crept up into his head almost immediately, and he could feel their effect in the blurred edges of his view.

"Which team are you with?"

The guy winked at him, clinked his glass against Sander's and emptied it. His hand was scorching on Sander's hip, and he could feel every finger through his jeans.

"Don't think I could be a racer, okay…" the guy said with raised eyebrows, and waited for Sander to empty his shot again.

"No, it's not that!" Sander laughed. "Because if you were I'd know you."

The guy kept smiling at him, the silence between them lasting longer and longer.

"Swiss?" Sander guessed, and the guy burst out laughing. "French? Italian?"

He received another glass.

"Austrian?"

"Now you're just insulting!"

"No!" Sander yelled, and laughed again. The guy observed him with an amused grin as he fumbled with the shot glass. He did not know how much time passed, or how little, except that he kept laughing and guessing both his name and nationality while drinking until suddenly the world threatened to turn upside down.

"Maybe we should get some fresh air?" the other said, and guided Sander through the crowd. The air outside was crisp, and white frost already laying on the black pavement. Sander took a few deep breaths as they ambled along, and it took him a few houses to realise that…

"My hotel's in the other direction."

"Nah, it'll be shorter around here," the guy said, and waved to the left. "Trust me, I know this place." He grinned at Sander. "Not like there's a lot to know."

They passed another hotel, swankier than the one of the Norwegian team, and finally turned left into an alley. The shine of the street lamps ended shortly behind the sidewalk, and while the next one was visible in the distance where the alley crossed into another street again, there was a sizable patch of darkness between them. Sander's feet felt clumsy and unwieldy on the cracked pavement as he stumbled along, leaning into the touch of the other guy to his right for support. His hand was still resting around Sander's hips, and he only had to budge a little to push him against the wall of the building.

"You can really pack those shots away", he smiled. Out in the cold, clean air, his breath sent no more tingles down Sander's spine. He tried to turn away from the wave of sour alcohol breath but was too late. His kiss was heavy, his tongue a shapeless lump in Sander's mouth.

"I should go back," he gasped when the other retreated, hating how breathless and small his voice sounded in the dark. All of the excitement of his buzz had vanished, and only the alcohol remained like lead in his limbs.

"What? Now? When it's just getting good?" the guy mumbled against Sander's skin as his mouth wandered down his neck. His stubble scratched like sandpaper.

"No! Let g…" The hand clamped over Sander's mouth like a vice, pressing the back of his head hard against the rough surface of the wall.

"No?" the guy snarled, grabbed Sander's hand, and slammed it hard against the wall. A wave of pain and fear broke over Sander at the realisation how little he could do against the strength of this stranger.

"No? After all this you want to pull out?"

"Hey!"

The cone of a cellphone's flashlight landed on them, and the guy startled. It was enough for Sander to push him away, and stumble two steps out of his reach. He coughed, sucking the cold air deep into his lungs.

"Get the fuck away from him!"

The cone of light became bigger and blinded Sander.

"This doesn't concern you," the stranger from the bar growled. "Move on!"

"The fuck it does!" the other man barked, and Sander's stomach seemed to fall out under his feet as he realised who it was. Before the other guy could react, Henrik shoved him hard.

"I said: Get the fuck away from him! Do you even know how old he is?"

The other guy laughed roughly, and with rising dread Sander watched as he squared up against Henrik. "He's of age, don't worry."

"Congratulations, that elevates you from disgusting creep to just creep," Henrik snapped, and shoved him again. "Now get lost."

The light from the phone wobbled as Henrik got shoved in return. "You don't want to try me," the man snarled.

Sander took a step forward, trying to move in before the other could lunge at Henrik but Henrik was faster. The punch was swift and came without any warning, the crunching noise under the slap of skin meeting skin so disgusting that Sander felt like throwing up instantly. The other guy stumbled, his knees buckling under his weight. No sound came from him except a loud gasp as he staggered against the wall.

Henrik on the other hand was much louder. "Fuck!" he yelled, and furiously shook his hand. "Fucking hell, that hurts like shit!" Still swearing he raised the phone in his other hand, and shone the light into the face of the stranger. Blood was gushing from his nose, and the look in his eyes was pure bewilderment.

"You don't want to try me!" Henrik spat, grabbed Sander's hand, and pulled him towards the street.

He did not dare to pull out of his grasp as they walked under the street lamps of the main street, approaching the centre of the town with all the hotels and bars. Henrik eventually stopped on his own, let go of Sander, and for a while he clenched and unclenched his bruised hand while his gaze darted up and down the road. Eventually, he took a deep breath, looked up towards the lamp, and stared at his phone for a moment before he switched off the flashlight. Only then did he remember who was standing next to him.

"You fucking idiot!" he said to Sander with cold anger in his voice, and the same irritation in his eyes as yesterday. "You lot really does get dumber with every year."

Sander pressed his lips together. Somewhere in the back of his head, buried under the alcohol and the adrenaline and the feeling of utter humiliation, was a small, sensible voice that tried to explain all the ways he was in the wrong, and supposed to thank Henrik, and go to bed without further discussion.

"I had it under control," he grumbled, and walked away.

"As if!" Henrik laughed joylessly, and grabbed him by the shoulder. "What would have happened had I not gone for a short jogging round before bed? What would have happened had I not recognised the patch on your jacket from the stairs to the hotel?" He slapped his palm against the logo of Ski Norge, and Sander impatiently rolled his shoulder back.

"I had it under control!" he yelled in Henrik's face, his cheeks burning, and tears stinging in the corners of his eyes.

Henrik blinked in amazement. Then, he took a step forward, and sniffed the air around Sander.

"You fucking idiot pound back Slivovitz twelve hours before a race?" He grabbed his arm again, and shook him hard. "I'm serious, is there something wrong with you? Do you start in the special category when you're not crashing out in the World Cup?"

"Leave me alone!" Sander yelled, hating how close his voice sounded to tears. He turned around again, and this time Henrik did not stop him when he dashed away but followed closely on his foot. For a while he did not say anything, until:

"Here! Take these!"

Sander looked down at the open palm of Henrik.

"If any coach is still up and smells you like this, you will walk back to Oslo and never start in another FIS race in your life."

Sander frowned. Reluctantly, he grabbed the two mints from Henrik, and shoved them between his teeth.

"Walk upright," Henrik continued, as if Sander had not been doing it the entire time. "Don't talk to anyone, and brush your teeth once you're in your…"

"Hey, Sander!"

They stopped, and turned around.

Timon wheezed when he came to a stop beside them. "Sorry, we didn't know where you were. We thought you'd left with that other guy…" Timon kept panting while Clément also caught up to them.

"Not that I'm not happy for you but I was kinda looking forward to that beer," he said, much less out of breath than Timon.

"Sorry," Sander muttered, painfully aware of his breath coming out of his mouth in white clouds. "I just needed fresh air."

Clément shrugged. "Eh, I'm just joking. I hate beer, and the wine here is virtually undrinkable." With a smile, he turned to Henrik. "Hi."

Henrik looked at him and Timon with a surly look. Without another word, he turned on his heel, and jogged away.

"Okay…," Clément muttered, and rolled his eyes. "He definitely is in a mood, huh?"

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," Timon groaned, and linked arms with Sander. "Please don't tell Atle or Lucas about this part of the evening."

"What? Why?" Sander asked, turning his head hastily towards the ground. Slowly they walked along the rows of hotels and restaurants. Their hotel was coming closer now, the neon lights shining only a few metres away.

"Atle was sure he'd try to corner you somehow. He said I would have to protect you. I didn't believe him but he was right. I hope he didn't impart his wisdom on you for too long."

"Next time pretend to get a call," Clément threw in.

Sander stared at his feet moving one step after the other on the frozen street. He shrugged.

"It wasn't that bad," he said.

Epilogue:

Even though the place was a massive block of glass and air, Norway’s skiing team brought the capacity of the lobby at its limit. Everyone dutifully wore the new polo with next season’s design, as instructed by the marketing team. Soon they would disperse to the various studios for the photo shootings but for the time being they were forced to wait. Most of them were clustered around the big couch that was fully occupied by Kristin and Lucas and their outstretched legs with the clunky splints around the knees. Sander kept fidgeting with the collar of his shirt even as he approached the corner at the far end of the lobby, the only place that allowed a glimpse around the neighbouring building and the harbour behind it. Henrik did not stop scrolling through his phone while Sander fought with himself, and only looked up when he cleared his throat.

“I…” Sander began before his voice gave out. He had often thought about this moment. Not about the one back in spring, that one was locked deep away in his heart, but he had something to make up for after all. And so, here he was. “I wanted to thank you.”

Henrik raised his eyebrows over his high forehead that his wispy bangs could not hide.

“For…Slovenia,” Sander added, his voice barely faltering, his mind not going back to that night and the feeling of sharp pain in his hand, the helplessness...

Henrik mustered him for a moment, a slight frown on his face. Then, he nodded, and went right back to his phone.

Sander took a deep breath, the another. He hesitated. “So…you and Hirscher?”

Henrik chuckled. “No,” he said.

“I mean…”

“It’s me and Van Deer,” Henrik interrupted him. “Difference.”

“Sure.”

An exasperated groan escaped Henrik’s lips as he looked up from his phone again. “Did McGrath send you? That little gossipy bitch! Why doesn’t he pester Haugan?”

“He didn’t,” Sander hurried to say. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

Henrik paused. “Oh.”

They wallowed in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds.

“You know, if you’re interested…” Henrik eventually began, and trailed off with a shrug.

Sander shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m good. For now.”

“Okay. Your loss.”

Sander pressed his lips to a thin smile. He looked over his shoulder, then back to Henrik. “Okay. See you around.”

“See you,” Henrik muttered to his phone.

Lucas, Atle and Timon were not even pretending not to have watched Sander’s exchange with Henrik with unashamed curiosity. He did not say anything when he joined them by the couch.

Lucas began first. He turned around as far as his stretched leg allowed. “Timon, could you please come here and bend down so I can hit you?”

Timon snorted, and took a step back from the couch. One second later, he doubled over with a hiss, and clutched his upper arm where Atle had boxed him.

“That’s for leaving Sander with Henrik in Kranjska Gora,” Lucas said.

“I told you I’m sorry. It was just five minutes.”

“A lot can happen in five minutes,” Atle said, his voice dripping with reproach. He turned to Sander. “We should have never left you alone. It’ll be better next season, I promise.”

Sander laughed. It came easy, now that he had done his duty. Now that he never had to think back to that night again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Henrik and I are cool.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and grinned at them.  Atle blinked at him with wide eyes for a moment, before:

“Ow fuck!,” Timon yowled.

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 6

Request: Yes or No

~~~

"Where were you?"

"Exploring." (Y/N) answered, picking up the barrel and handing it off to his brother. Leif stared at him with an arched brow, taking the barrel into his arms and setting it down on their ship. Liv stood near them, gazing down into the water absentmindedly. She had made a quick recovery, only needing a couple of bandages and some rest before she could pick up a sword again. Her skin had regained its tan complexion and her eyes regained their light. Seeing her up and walking had been a tremendous relief to the brothers. With everything they needed onboard, (Y/N) carefully stepped down onto the ship, feeling it rock slightly at his added weight.

London's harbor had filled to the brim with boats as half of King Canute's fleet readied for departure back to their homelands across Scandinavia. But the Greenlanders would need to stop by Kattegat for Freydis and the others. Then, it'd hopefully be smooth sailing back home to their families.

"Exploring? The castle? All night?" With each word, Leif's brows rose higher and higher. (Y/N) looked away from his brother and out toward the horizon with pursed lips. He felt like a child again. It'd been ages since Leif last scolded him. "It isn't like you to lie to me."

"What do you want me to say, Leif?"

"The truth. If you were with..." Leif trailed off, eyes flickering over to Harald and back to his brother. The prince stood in front of King Canute as they exchanged words. Once, Harald would've appeared carefree and pleased to be in the king's presence. But now he looked miffed and bitter, the taste of betrayal still on his tongue. Harald wore his typical black leather and dark tunic attire with two-skinned coyotes stitched to his long black cloak and tied together by a small bronze chain that kept the cloak from slipping off his shoulders. He no longer looked like any other Viking waltzing up and down the dock. He looked like a prince. He was a prince. (Y/N) needed to remember that. Even when the bear tooth hung snugly around Harald's neck.

"Just tell me."

"It's not like that." (Y/N) murmured, tearing his eyes away from Harald and distracting himself by adjusting one of the ropes keeping the sail tied to the mast.

"Are you certain?" And people said his brother was a man of little words.

"Safe journey, Greenlanders!" King Canute suddenly called out to them, drawing their attention away from each other and onto him. The two brothers forced awkward smiles for him, offering nods of acknowledgment before looking at each other again. Harald's brows furrowed slightly at the sight, gaze lingering on them.

"What are you two whispering about?" Liv asked, using the side of the boat to push herself up. Leif- almost instinctively- wrapped an arm around her waist to ensure her balance, causing a flustered smile to appear on Liv's face. 

"Don't tell me you-"

"Nothing, Liv. Just the weather." Leif answered, hand rising to delicately stroke the back of her head and giving his brother a squinted-eyed look. (Y/N) grinned back at him. Liv slowly nodded at his answer and sat back down as Harald stepped onboard and bid his goodbye to Canute. Leif took his spot behind the steering oar and (Y/N) sat beside him, watching Vikings finish getting their belongings packed away. Harald made his way down the ship, fingers twitching and brushing against (Y/N)'s arm when he brushed past and he sat behind him. (Y/N) took in a deep breath and looked out at the ocean again.

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The closer Kattegat's harbor grew, the faster his heart pounded against his chest. His fingers drummed anxiously against the side of the ship, watching people swarm to the docks to greet their family and friends. He waited impatiently as the boat docked, staring down the dock until the boat had been secured. Climbing out, he paused and waited, hearing Liv's soft sigh of exhaustion as Leif helped her off the boat. Then, He heard it. He heard her.

"Leif! (Y/N)!" Freydis raced through the crowd, her long blonde braid whipping back with the wind as she brushed past people. Her pace quickened upon spotting her brothers and she barreled into the arms of (Y/N), feet leaving the ground when he wrapped his arms around her tightly and spun her around. Laughter escaped her freely. "You're alive!"

"And you are too." (Y/N) laughed as well, feeling his heart swell tenfolds. Gently setting Freydis back down on her feet, she smiled and kissed his cheek before eagerly wrapping her arms around Leif and Liv, thrilled giggles falling from her lips.

"What is this?" Liv asked when they pulled apart, looking over Freydis' attire. It was then he noticed what exactly she wore. Freydis had ditched her typical dark tunics and coats for brown leather, a light blue tunic underneath, and shoulder plates. Her black boots were covered in a mixture of damp sand and when he looked closer, so were the back of her pants, almost as if she had fallen while on the beach. (Y/N) blinked. Her clothes looked strikingly similar to what the defenders of Kattegat wore, he realized. Had Jarl Haakon offered Freydis a place amongst her shieldmaidens?

"I have much to tell you." Freydis breathed and leaned back, turning her head side to side in search of the others. When she couldn't find them along the Vikings unloading and heading down the dock, she looked back at them, her wide smile beginning to crumble. "Skarde? Njal?"

"And Ulf," Liv whispered, inhaling sharply and turning her gaze downcast. 

"Then..." Freydis pressed her trembling lips together, her blue eyes overflowing with tears. "Toke and Yrsa are not alone in Valhalla." She revealed softly, voice nearly cracking.

(Y/N) felt as if someone had punched him right in the chest, knocking all the air out of his lungs and squeezing his heart. His friends... The ones who had stepped up and promised to help them on their journey for justice... dead. Every single one of them. Liv stared at her wide-eyed, eyes flickering between Freydis's in hopes of finding a cruel joke. Her lip began quivering and she shook her head, sobs escaping her and shoulders shaking. (Y/N) squeezed his eyes shut. He'd grown so tired of crying, so tired of mourning that the tears had dried after the deaths of Njal and Skarde. He only stepped forward and wrapped an arm around his sister, dropping his head onto her shoulder as Leif and Liv stepped in as well, arms wrapping around each other and Freydis. The group of Greenlanders had watered down to just four. Four survivors. Four people who'd have to relay the news to different families back home. They'd have to hold sobbing mothers and spouses and explain to the children why their fathers wouldn't be returning.

"It's just us now." Liv sniffled, leaning back and gazing up at Freydis, hand gently rubbing her back. 

"Come," Freydis sighed, wiping her tears away and slipping her arm around Liv's shoulders. She looked up at her brothers and smiled sadly at them, nodding back toward the town. "You must be tired from your journey."

"I want to go home, Leif." (Y/N) mumbled, watching the girls head down the dock. 

"I know, (Y/N). I know." Leif tried offering him a reassuring smile through his exhaustion. "But we must rest." He reminded, motioning after the girls and beginning to follow them. (Y/N) sighed and trailed after his brother, eyes drifting away from Leif's back and meeting Harald's pitying ones. (Y/N) broke eye contact first and quickened his pace, even as Harald stared holes into the back of his head. 

Freydis took them to the market, the smell of freshly baked bread and cooking meat wafting through the air. (Y/N)'s mouth watered at the thought of a warm meal, collapsing at an empty table and smiling sweetly at his sister when she swiftly retrieved bowls of food for them to eat. Setting them down in front of her friends and getting some water for them, Freydis plopped down across from them and began recounting how she had spent the last couple of months. "Jarl Haakon sent us to Uppsala."

"To Uppsala?" Liv gasped in awe, breaking apart a fresh piece of bread and popping the smaller slice into her mouth. "Is it like the stories we heard growing up?"

Smiling widely, Freydis rested her arms on the table, her gaze turning distant. "It's even better... Temples as high as the sky with golden rooftops, and hundreds of the faithful." Her smile fell slightly. "But it is threatened by Christians."

"So this is your new mission?" Leif asked softly, rolling his wooden spoon between his fingers. (Y/N) drank the broth of his soup, having finished eating so fast his mother would've wacked him with a rag and scolded him. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, his brows furrowed as Freydis nodded, her fingers toying with the ends of her shirt.

"What I have seen has changed me. I cannot leave Kattegat now, and I hope you will stay too?" Freydis glanced between the three of them hopefully. (Y/N) felt his stomach drop, fingers squeezing around the bowl in his hands. Leif swallowed and turned to look at his younger brother, placing his hand on his shoulder and affectionately rubbing it. 

"Perhaps we could stay a little longer. Make sure Freydis settles in well and then we can depart for Greenland?" Leif proposed, gaze softening. Between his siblings pleading looks, (Y/N) could only begrudgingly nod, putting aside his longing for home. "Besides..." Leif's eyes flickered to someone past him. "I don't think Harald would let you leave so quickly." 

"Harald?" Freydis repeated with furrowed brows and (Y/N) peered over his shoulder at the prince. Harald had ditched his cloak and changed into lighter clothes better suited to Kattegat's chilly yet ever-changing weather. Inhaling deeply, (Y/N) let the bowl drop lightly on the table and stood up, hearing his sister whisper questions to a chuckling Leif. 

"I see your sister is a warrior now," Harald noted, a smile spreading on his face. "I will congratulate her later. For now, I wish to know why you've been ignoring me."

"Yrsa and Toke were killed, Harald. By a Christian Jarl named Kåre. Friend of yours?"

"No, he's not." Harald's smile turned into a frown. "He's a zealot and many of us consider him deranged."

"But you know him."

"I know of him. (Y/N), please, I do not wish to argue with you today." Harald sighed and shut his eyes, nose crinkling slightly. "Why don't we take a walk-"

"Harald, I want you to forget about what happened. I do not want you trailing after me like a child at every turn. You're the Prince of Norway, I am a hunter from Greenland. I am... far below your station. Find someone else to bother and keep your bed warm, but I do not need to risk my safety for a man, much less a Christian." (Y/N)'s words came out much nastier than intended. It became apparent by the way Harald nearly flinched at his words, a hurt look passing over his features. (Y/N) turned his back to him and returned to the table, avoiding the questioning gazes as he took some bread. Harald stared at him, and then he scoffed and turned away, stalking back into the depths of the town.

When night fell, Jarl Haakon opened the Great Hall doors to the fleet of Vikings for a feast congratulating them on their victory and safe return. (Y/N) had found himself sitting beside a pretty redhead, although he couldn't recall if her name was Ingrid or Isgerd. She wore a long flowy green dress with white designs stitched on the cuffs and collarbone. Her wavy hair had been tied back by multiple braids with a couple of strands falling over her face that she occasionally brushed away when speaking. Talking with her was easy, for the most part. His attention would automatically drift away from her when he would feel someone staring at him, even if he knew it was Harald watching him from across the room. Liv and Leif sat together at the table beside (Y/N)'s, warily glancing at each other and whispering about the two. Leif had kept the day's attire on but Liv had changed into a long red dress and finally released her hair from its typical updo. Sitting a ways away from her brothers, Freydis chatted animatedly with a handsome young man, appearing rather interested in him as she laughed and leaned toward him curiously.

Drums began to be hit and (Y/N) turned his eyes away from Harald and onto the woman walking down between the tables, the small chimes on her red outfit clinging together with each step she took. Lifting her hands, she hollered. "Hail Prince Harald and Leif Eriksson, the heroes of London! West over water they fared to tear the English crown from the head of ��thelred!" Cheers filled the hall as Vikings lifted their cups in the air. "Or was it the head from the crown? By the man who brought London Bridge down! And this Prince of Greenland, across oceans he went, to face hundreds of men in the village of Kent!"

"Hundreds? More like thousands!" Leif called confidentially from his seat, laughing as the hall erupted in laughter and cheers.

Harald lifted his up high in the air, his bitterness and hurt gone for the moment. "Get your story right, Skalde!" He piped in playfully, a laugh rumbling in his chest.

"I think you better get up and tell it then," Skalde responded with a large smile, encouraging the hall to chant for Harald to rise. Even Leif chimed in, chanting Harald's name and slamming his fists against the table. (Y/N) felt a smile tug at his lips, fingers gently dragging along his cup as Harald gave in and stood up, stepping onto his seat and then onto the table. 

"The story I want to tell is not of me." He shouted over the chants, waiting for the hall to quiet down before continuing. "It is of a group of friends: The Greenlanders. Leif Eriksson, my friend. My brother. Captain through the storms of wind and mutiny. He settled rough waters and made the passage calm." 

"Brother." Leif raised his cup to Harald in thanks.

"And Liv-" Harald continued, grinning when Liv's head snapped in his direction with wide eyes. "-who left her blood in the river along with the bridge! This is her story." Harald stepped down from the table, gazing over the hall. Liv bowed her head bashfully at the cheers that followed, a flustered smile spreading across her face. 

"And (Y/N) Eriksson. A man who would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if it meant helping his brother and sister. I admire his strength and kindness... and I certainly wish to never face him on the battlefield." Harald kept his voice even, listening to laughter and cheers that spread at his words. (Y/N) rubbed his thumb over the rim of his cup and met Harald's fond gaze. He didn't wish to admit the way his heart seemingly picked up when he looked into his eyes. Harald's lips spread into a small smile. 

"This is his story too. As it is Ulf's, Skarde's, and Njal's. Greenlanders who came to pay a debt for one, but stayed to help save us all. They met Syn in Odin's Great Hall, and she welcomed them into Valhalla. They are the true heroes of London. They are who we celebrate tonight! For without the Greenlanders, London Bridge would still be standing, but we would not." Harald lifted his cup once more. "The Greenlanders!"

Rising from his seat and picking up his cup, Leif raised his cup as well. "Skol!" At his words, the drums picked up and people stood to mingle and chat, sharing laughter and exchanging tales. (Y/N) excused himself from the redhead's side and made his way through the hall, feeling Harald's eyes on him as he approached the fireplace. Predictably, Harald appeared at his side in seconds.

"Thank you for what you said, Harald. You didn't have to." (Y/N) muttered and looked at the prince. Harald hummed, lifting his hands and warming them with the heat of the fire. The fire cast a golden glow on him, making his dark eyes appear a shade or two lighter. 

"Your friends deserved to have their names known. They were heroes too." Harald said, lifting his gaze to look at him, his brows gently raising and gaze softening. "And I am deeply sorry for everything and everyone you've lost." 

(Y/N) regarded the prince with a sorrowful smile. While his heart remained heavy, he knew his friends were where they were meant to be. The Gods had willed it and (Y/N) could only be thankful for the time they had spent together, even if a few of those times had been filled with arguments and petty insults. But they had remained loyal to him and his siblings through thick and thin. Sighing softly, (Y/N) tilted his head and parted his lips to speak, only for the sound of steel hitting a shield to break his thought process and draw his attention toward the center of the hall. Stepping away from Harald, he spotted one of Jarl Haakon's shieldmaidens standing protectively in front of Leif with her sword pointed directly at Arne. 

"He's no hero!" Arne seethed with bottled-up fury and hate, staring directly at Leif. "He's a Christian lover and probably a Christian himself!" Arne spat, moving wildly against the two men restraining him. Leif made no move to defend himself. Instead, he stood behind the shieldmaiden silently... Guilty. (Y/N) frowned.

"Leave before I banish you." The shieldmaiden ordered, keeping her sword trained on the blonde man, even as the other men escorted him out of the hall. (Y/N) watched them shove Arne out of the hall, their bodies blocking him from entering. After cursing them a few more times, Arne disappeared into the night.

"Come to my lodgings, (Y/N). I'll have a hot bath prepared for you." Harald whispered into his ear, the touch of his hand fleeting against (Y/N) back before he disappeared into the crowd. (Y/N) stared after him, the buzz of the feast picking back up despite the brief interruption. The music grew louder, more encouraging for people to dance and mingle. But the festivities had been enough for the Greenlander. And with some hesitance, he found himself following in Harald's direction.

Even after his unnecessarily cold words, Harald had invited him back to his room. And (Y/N) foolishly accepted. (Y/N) winced at his own inconsistency. It wasn't like him to be so... impulsive. So reckless. Harald would surely think of him as easy. (Y/N) slowed down in front of the inn, staring at the open door. The cold outside nipped at his cheeks and ears but he barely felt it. Nothing could beat Greenland's winter. Grinding his teeth and cursing himself, he stepped inside and questioned the innkeeper who provided little directions to Harald's room. 

Why was he doing this?

Why was he standing there before his door?

Why did he knock instead of leaving?

Questions that repeated over and over in his head as the heavy footsteps grew near and the door opened, warmth flooding out from the room and coaxing him inside. (Y/N) didn't look at Harald when he walked in, instead, he eyed at the tub toward the back of the room with steam rising out of it. The door creaked when it closed behind him, sending a small jolt up his body at the sound. (Y/N) knew he could easily change his mind and Harald would let him leave. But he stayed.

"You have your own tub?" (Y/N) asked, feeling his skin burn. From shame? Embarrassment? Want? He couldn't tell. Those feelings had slowly grown muddled. Growing closer to the wooden tub, his fingers danced along the rim of the tub, the warm water rather enticing after a short trek through the chilly night.

"Jarl Haakon treats her friends well," Harald said, his voice suddenly closer. His arms moved around his waist, hand pulling and tugging on strings. When his clothes grew loose, (Y/N) gently pushed Harald's hands away and slipped the rest of the clothes off, stepping into the tub and lowering down into the water. He shivered and pulled his legs toward his chest, a soft chuckle escaping him as the heat hugged his tired muscles. Harald picked up his clothes, setting them on a chair, and gingerly taking the dagger to place it on top of the clothes. 

(Y/N) pulled his hand toward his chest, palm pressing against his scar. It ran from his left shoulder down to his right hip. His attacker hadn't dragged the tip of his sword down his body to cut him open, only to torture him with the pain. The scar had faded considerably over the years but the memories remained clear and vivid. His head lifted when he heard a chair scraping along the ground. Harald set the stool down and sat on it, leaning his arms on the rim of the tub with a rag in hand. 

"Tell me about Greenland," Harald said softly, dipping the rag into the water and gently rubbing it against (Y/N)'s cheek. "What's it like living there?"

"It's cold and dry. We get a lot of snow.. so much sometimes you can barely tell it's summer or spring. But I like the snow. I like the cold. But snow and cold mean the animals that live among us are sparse and hard to capture. It's... challenging." (Y/N) sighed, skimming his hand over the surface of the water. "To survive, you have to be less of a man, less of a human. You have to become a predator. Even if it's just to catch a cunning little hare or take down an ox. And to make things harder, your neighbors aren't your only competition. You've got polar bears roamin' about and once they catch a whiff of you... They'll follow you for hours on end and because they blend in, you'll never see them coming. It's... terrifying, how such a large creature can sneak up on you. But, Gods, they're beautiful."

"Beautiful yet terrifying... Reminds me of someone." Harald cooed, dragging the rag down along (Y/N)'s jawline. Droplets ran down his neck, mixing with sweat and grime from the weeks at sea. Hooking his finger under (Y/N)'s chin, he tilted the Greenlander's head toward him and gently scrubbed the other side of his face. (Y/N)'s lips curled up. 

"Is this always how you get your peen wet?" A laugh slipped past his lips when Harald's brows raised at his crudeness, his movements temporarily pausing. "You offer hot baths to anyone you find pretty?"

"They typically like me for my charm-"

"Charm?"

"Yes, my charm." Harald drawled and dropped his hand, the water rippling from the contact. "If it wasn't for my charm, why did you lay with me?"

"You were available. And desperate." (Y/N) shrugged lightly and slipped the rag from Harald's fingers, squeezing the water out of it and rubbing it against his shoulders. 

"You make me feel like that," Harald sighed, fingers brushing against the top of (Y/N)'s knee. "You make me feel many things."

Shifting in the water, (Y/N) moved toward the prince and propped his arms on either side of Harald's. His heart danced around in his chest, threatening to burst out at any given moment but he shoved down the jittery feeling in his veins instead, he bumped his nose against Harald's and gazed into his darkening eyes. (Y/N) leaned back and found Harald leaning after him, chasing his lips in hopes of stealing a kiss. "Careful, prince. You may fall in." 

"You are no bear.." Harald breathed, a smirk appearing on his face. "You are a fox."

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The shieldmaidens entered the makeshift arena in a single line for Freydis's test. She was last among them, having exchanged the blue tunic for their signature yellow. Leif, Liv, (Y/N), and Harald watched from the sidelines as the shieldmaidens turned to face Jarl Haakon and dropped to one knee, simultaneously speaking in Norse. Rising up again, the women spread out and Freydis handed her sword over. She needed to prove her strength against the group. She had to mark her place among them by defeating them in combat. Silence fell over them as Freydis stepped back into the center, scanning each face and bracing herself for the first attack.

The first woman charged, taking advantage of Freydis's back being turned to her. Expecting the attack, Freydis turned just in time to dodge the swing. The woman stumbled and Freydis took advantage of her momentary daze to kick her forward onto the ground before landing a solid punch to her jaw, thus marking the woman out of the fight. Jarl Haakon smiled proudly at her first win.

Two shieldmaidens charged neck, one swinging her sword and the other shoving forward her spear. Freydis dodged the swing of the sword and angled her body to avoid the spear. Thinking fast on her feet, she grabbed the spear and aimed the end of it toward the woman with the sword before slamming her body against the second woman and loosening her grip on the spear. Taking the spear from her, Freydis swung at both women, using quickness and good aim to knock both women down without seriously injuring them. 

Twirling the spear in her hand, she aimed at the next woman who charged and flung it forward but the woman raised her shield in time to block it. Scrambling to pick up the discarded sword and shield on the ground, Freydis faced her again, only for another woman to come up at her side and use her own shield to force Freydis onto the ground. She blocked the woman's hits while on her back before swinging her leg at the back of her ankles, effectively causing her opponent to fall onto her knees. She rolled out of the way to avoid Freydis's sword and the two women used the distance to get back on their feet. They charged at each other, grunting and huffing as metal hit metal until Freydis got her sword to the woman's neck, forcing her to surrender.

But she didn't have time to breathe before being charged at again. Her new opponent, the woman that had saved Leif from Arne's attack the previous night, didn't spare her, swinging her sword and blocking with her shield. They broke apart for a moment, their chests heaving with pants and then they charged again, swinging and blocking until the woman brought her shield to Freydis's knee, causing her to cry out and lean over instinctively. Using the distraction, the woman swung her shield at Freydis's and pushed her down on the ground. She allowed Freydis the time to get back on her feet but didn't hold back, swinging at her again and again. Freydis got a solid hit against the woman's side but she didn't even bat an eye, slamming her shield against Freydis's and causing it to bounce back and hit her face. Freydis cried out as she fell back, rolling over onto her stomach and cupping her face in pain.

"Get up!" Jarl Haakon shouted, encouraging chants erupting in the crowd. Freydis staggered to her feet and tossed her shield and sword aside. When she turned around, (Y/N) grimaced at the sight. Blood oozed from her temple, dripping down the side of her face, and her bloodied lips parted to suck in gulps of air. Freydis went as far enough to unclasp the armor and toss it aside. She continued to stumble around and her opponent frowned, turning to look at Jarl Haakon with an arched brow. When Jarl Haakon remained silent, the woman sighed deeply and looked back at Freydis. Fingers brushed against (Y/N) and he felt someone hook their finger around his. Glancing down, he noticed Harald's hand and looked up at him. Harald gave him a reassuring smile.

With the fight still on, the woman charged and swung but Freydis ducked. Dodging another swing, she lifted her foot and slammed it against the shield, pushing her back. The woman charged again and Freydis allowed the sword to brush against her arm in order to get closer to her and push the shield aside, shoving the woman back again. Despite stumbling on her feet, she dodged another swing and spun around, grasping the woman's arm and stomping on her leg, forcing her down on one knee and holding her wrist. The woman dropped her sword only to catch it with her free hand. Freydis quickly backed away, ducking from two swings before charging forward and slamming her body against the woman's and taking the sword from her weakened grasp. Cutting her side and watching her fall back on her knees, Freydis held the blade to her throat before she could get up. 

Once Jarl Haakon nodded her approval, Freydis lowered her sword and offered the woman her hand, helping her up on her feet. The two grinned at each other as the crowd cheered and shieldmaidens approached Freydis to congratulate her. Freydis panted, soaking in the cheers and her victory before lowering down to one knee when Jarl Haakon walked toward her with a proud smile. 

"Freydis Eriksdottir. What promise do you make?"

"I promise on Odin to protect Kattegat to the death." Freydis breathed.

The woman beside Jarl Haakon took Freydis's sword out of its sheath and held it before her as Jarl Haakon took a handful of dirt and then wiped her other hand on Freydis's blood. Smearing the blood and sprinkling the dirt on the sword, she spoke. "The body and Earth are one." Taking the sword into her hands, she held it and stared down at her. "As you protect me, so I you. Rise." She said and Freydis took, taking her sword back and taking the shield offered to her.

Turning to look at the crowd, Freydis grinned. "Yeah!" She screamed into the day, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers and hollers. Liv excitedly jumped up and down, cheering for Freydis and laughing. (Y/N) watched the pure euphoria on Freydis's face as she continued to scream and thrust her sword upward. She belonged in Kattegat as a warrior, he knew that now. And when Harald wrapped his fingers around his wrist, he wondered if he belonged somewhere, at someone's side. 

[emma-ofnormandy]

@vikingsevents Day 3 Prompt: Snow Rating: Teen Pairing: Leif x Liv A/N: I will never get over these two- they will forever be my little underdog pair that got done wrong.

Read on AO3 if you prefer!

“Hurry up! You are going to be late for the festival!”

Bracing against the setting sun, Leif squinted at the retreating forms that walked ahead of him, their laughter echoing in the cloudless sky as they disappeared just out of sight, into the safety of the village gates. 

Around him, the trees hung heavy with fresh fallen snow as the last of the winter birds claimed their perches to settle in. Just off shore, an iceberg slapped against the tide, a seal sprawled lazily across its surface as the scent of cooking fires hung in the air and the unmistakable sound of children’s laughter could be heard in the distance. 

A contented air settled over the landscape and Leif took an easy breath.

On the ground beside him, covered in snow and almost unrecognizable beneath her furs, Liv paid no attention to her surroundings, and instead watched the first stars make themselves known in the darkening sky.

“You are going to freeze down there,” he chided. 

She smiled up at him but made no move to rise. “No, I will not. I am a Greenlander.”

Leif rolled his eyes. “As are the rest of us Liv. Come on, we will miss the feast.”

“It will not start until the last ray of sun has disappeared.” As if to make her point, she settled herself deeper into the snow.

Behind them, the sun continued to dip below the horizon and Leif knew it would not be long until the land was wrapped into winter darkness once again. He did not celebrate the idea of walking back with no light to guide them. 

“It will be dark soon and we have nothing to help us find our way.”

“We have the stars,” Liv said wistfully.

As another star blinked itself into existence, the wind whistled through the trees and Leif watched white caps begin to crest on the ocean just beyond them. The weather was turning; stars would serve them well on a clear solstice, but that was not what the gods had in store for this night. “Stars do not protect us from the impending snow.”

Liv sat up and watched the ocean just as Leif had. “Alright,” she finally conceded, “help me up.”

Relieved that reason had won out, Leif reached out and grasped for the hand that she offered but rather than pull her up, he quickly found himself sprawled on his back in the snow. He shivered and cursed as chilling water slipped its way into his coat and boots, his skin immediately prickling against the unwanted feeling.

Beside him, Liv broke out in a fit of laughter, her body rolling from side to side, snow catching in her coat and her hair as she struggled to control herself.

Propping himself up on an elbow Leif looked down that the giggling female and could not stop the smile from spreading across his lips. She was acting like a child in the first snow of the year, and yet he could not find it in himself to be cross with her.

“Is that how it is going to be?” He asked, a playful warning dancing in his tone.

Still rolling, Liv struggled to catch her breath. “No,” she finally mustered, wiping a tear from her eye. “We can go now. I will follow you willingly.”

“Should have considered that before you dragged me onto the ground,” Leif exclaimed as he reached for her and sent them both rolling downhill towards the ocean. Their shrieks of laughter echoed against the landscape as they fought for control amongst the fresh snow.

As the world stopped spinning, Leif found himself settled on top of Liv, their limbs intertwined and their breathing ragged. Liv beamed up at him, the joy she felt dancing in her green eyes. Her nose was red from the cold, her hair a mess of snow, and Leif felt an odd ache in his chest when he looked down at her.

There was not a day that he could recall where Liv had not been a part of his life and he treasured the adventures they had shared. She was a part of his soul just as Freydis was, an irreplaceable fixture of friendship like Skarde and Ulf, and yet she was something much more.  

Tentatively, he reached out to wipe the snow from her cheeks and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Have you had enough now? Can we please go home?”

Liv’s lips moved with an answer, but Leif could not make out the words. From somewhere in the distance, he heard his name being called, but it was not in her voice. 

Something was not right.

He frowned as Liv continued to smile and when she reached a hand to him, her fingers grazing across his cheek, he could not feel her touch. Where there should have been warmth and softness, he felt a bitter, biting chill as the light around him began to fade and the woman with it.

“Greenlander!”

Leif jerked awake, disoriented, and reached for the knife at his side. Around him, the world blurred and he struggled to make out his surroundings; he could make out the rustling of leaves and the distinct scent of horse not far off. 

His frantic look finally settled on a fire that burned just in front of him, its smoke curling in the night and then beyond that to where the distinct shape of people sat. 

There was no sound of the ocean or the cold feel of snow against his skin.

His palms began to sweat as the world around him came into focus. She had been underneath him just a moment ago, warm and alive, back in Greenland. He could still feel the softness of her skin against his fingers and hear her laugh in his ears, but she was no longer with him.

It was Harald who broke the tense silence. “Everything ok, Greenlander?”

Leif nodded, his mind still trying to separate reality from the world he had been pulled out of. He was not in Greenland, but across the ocean, hiding in a foreign land and Liv was gone, he had watched her die in his arms in Kattegat.

“Just a dream,” he muttered, glancing quickly at his companions before finding a spot in the dark to watch.

“It must have been a good one,” Haralad teased. “We could not get you to come out of it.”

His chest still ached, and a cold sweat broke out across his skin. It had been months since he had dreamed of Liv so vividly, and the experience left him shaken to his core. Dragging himself upright, Leif pulled the fur he had been laying on around his shoulders and hunched closer to the fire.

Beside Harald, Freydis watched thoughtfully, and Leif felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. She said nothing, but looked as if she knew what he had dreamed about and it tore at him.

“It was,” he lamented and he did not dare meet his sister’s eyes.

[rawiswhore]

RockaBilly x Fem Reader- "Kiss Me"

I hope you readers won't be offended over this fanfiction, but viewer discretion is advised.

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In 1997, World Wrestling Federation tagteam the Smoking Gunns had broken up, where both members tried embarking on solo/singles wrestling careers.

During that year, former Smoking Gunns member Billy Gunn got a new gimmick and became known as RockaBilly---a country western singer whose manager was the Honky Tonk Man.

On a "Monday Night Raw" episode that aired in March of 1997, Hunter Hearst Helmsley had a match against RockaBilly, and you were Hunter's valet.

After walking up the stairs that lead to the ring and carefully walking above the rings apron and next to the ropes, you walked to an area where RockaBilly was standing near in the ring.

You began to shout at RockaBilly and berate him, and RockaBilly noticed you near the ring.

RockaBilly strolled to you calmly, and Hunter didn't really walk behind RockaBilly to attack him.

In fact, Hunter was selling a wrestling move and making it look painful, but there's a reason why Hunter hasn't walked behind RockaBilly to attack him.

Once RockaBilly stood right in front of you and very close to you, as you were still squabbling at him, RockaBilly's hands grabbed the sides of your head and pulled your head and face closer to his, where your mouth locked in between his mouth and he kissed you.

RockaBilly's eyes shut as your mouth attached to his, whereas many people in the audience were cheering and outraged seeing him kissing you.

You, on the other hand, were panicking and freaking out, your hands trembling while your arms flailed and waved.

No matter how much you wanted to be freed, RockaBilly wouldn't let you go.

RockaBilly then pulled your face away from his face, where your lips separated from his mouth.

Your face was completely shocked and appalled after RockaBilly had kissed you, your mouth agape and your eyebrows raised while your eyes were wide.

RockaBilly removed his hands off of your head, but Hunter saw what happened to you and HHH was furious.

After RockaBilly kissed you, he turned around and resumed the match with Hunter.

You, on the other hand, left the ring by walking towards the stairs and walking down them, where you continued watching this match.

At least it wasn't Henry Godwinn or the Headbangers kissing you, that's really disgusting.

To be honest, RockaBilly is handsome.

Not to mention, many male wrestlers could've kissed you in this moment.

Shawn Michaels could've done it, although by the end of the year he, Hunter and you would form a wrestling trio.

Brian Pillman could definitely have done it, but he and Hunter would eventually have many matches together this year.

Bret Hart and Davey Boy Smith probably aren't the types to do this.

Even that infamous Fake Razor Ramon from late 1996 and early 1997 could've kissed you, but would you readers want to read about that notorious fake Razor Ramon?

Leif Cassidy did pull your face in for a kiss last year at a WWF house show.

While RockaBilly may have kissed Sunny last year, Henry Godwinn kissed Sunny and Chyna.

In professional wrestling, there are moments where a wrestler will kiss the opponent's female valet or manager to embarrass them.

Examples would be when Shawn Michaels pulled Sunny's face in for a kiss, when Henry Godwinn pulled Sunny's and Chyna's faces closer for him to kiss them, Rowdy Roddy Piper kissing Sensational Sherri, when Billy Gunn leaned down and kissed Sunny, and when the Bodydonnas' new manager Cloudy kissed Leif Cassidy to embarrass him (Cloudy was a man dressed in drag).