#Vikings valhalla x male reader

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 17

Request: Yes or No

Summary: (Y/N) and Harald only continue to make things more complicated for themselves. After returning to Constantinople, (Y/N) is forced to say goodbye to his brother for the first time.

CW/TW: Mention of the deaths of innocents, situationships situationshipping, suggestive content, normal relationship? don't know her, implied homophobia, religion bashing + the violent love of Christianity, healthy sibling relationships rise up

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Silence hung over them like a heavy cloud, the words they wished to speak dying in their throats in favor of staying quiet and letting the moment pass. Tiring and infuriating, it was, but winning a death match against an experienced ruler was quite the feat. (Y/N)'s brief flash of anger had disappeared the moment the fight began, leaving him simply with familiar numbness and exhaustion, his attention focused on cleaning the cut Harald had sustained on his arm instead of picking up their argument again. 

Harald winced and withheld the urge to flinch each time the needle entered his skin, his gaze flickering between watching the cut be sown and studying (Y/N)'s face. Years of patching up injuries had turned him into a swift healer, his hands nimble and gentle as they finished sewing his cut. His bloodied fingers picked up the rag floating in the basin beside them and carefully dabbed it along his skin, cleaning any blood that'd seeped out before taking the bandages offered to him by one of the servants.

"Thank you." (Y/N) murmured, tearing his eyes away from the injury and toward the tent's entrance when Emperor Romanos stepped inside, freshly changed into his armor and ready for the journey back home to the heart of his empire. He raised his hand to stop them both from standing, giving (Y/N) a small nod to continue working before he looked back at Harald and offered him a wide smile. 

"I'm glad to see you're recovering." He said, striding closer to them and raising a hand to touch Harald's shoulder. "Harald, I am under no illusion that your heart is still in the North. That you fought for the Empire on my behalf... will not be forgotten."

"I was honored by your trust in me," Harald responded, and (Y/N) resisted the urge to sigh. He wrapped the cut quickly yet carefully before tying a knot to ensure the bandages would slip and risk the injury growing infected. He stepped back, drawing the eyes of both men who watched him as he cleaned his hands, his head bowed and disinterest in their conversation evident. 

"A deserved trust." The Emperor said, a hint of amusement and knowing lacing his voice. He squeezed Harald's shoulder with a quiet chuckle and left the tent to mount his readied horse. They'd be allowed two to three days to recover from battle and gather supplies and treasures from the castle before following him to Constantinople. 

"If you feel as if your injury is worsening," (Y/N) cleared his throat to catch Harald's attention. "Speak with a healer." He told him bluntly and slipped past him, leaving the tent and walking past the Emperor and General Maniakes whilst they spoke of what was to be done. He caught the General's eye, noticing the slight curl of his lip and rolling his eyes once Maniakes couldn't see his face.

The camp seemed to bustle with more life, most having already entered the castle to take whatever they could find. Leif had likely been among them, for he'd been eager to arrive after learning of a library holding ancient texts and books. (Y/N) would hardly find himself surprised if the next time he saw his brother he had a sack full of books and maps to be placed in his already cluttered home. He had little interest in the treasures and knowledge; Leif had already taught him more than enough and he hardly needed treasure to live happily. Greenlanders lived through trade, rarely ever finding themselves in need of coin. 

Slipping into his tent, (Y/N) crouched down by his luggage full of clothes and sorted through it until he found a clean shirt to wear for the rest of the day. It'd likely grow dirtied and grimy by the time night fell but he preferred walking around with a clean shirt over a bloodied one. He reached back and slipped off the shirt, tossing it aside and standing back up with the new one in hand. He stuck his arms and head through the holes and let it slip over his body, his ears catching the rustling of the tent flaps and footsteps entering. 

"We should talk." 

"Then talk, Harald." (Y/N) sighed and turned to face him, his arms folding over his stomach and brow arching for him to speak. Harald's lips pursed, glancing over his shoulder and stepping fully into the tent toward him once certain nobody would be interrupting them. (Y/N) straightened up when he drew closer and Harald stopped, a deep frown spreading on his face. 

"How much longer are you going to do this, (Y/N)? Three years ago you claimed it would be for the best if we were no longer lovers and I told you I'd prove myself to be capable of everything you wished for. I have showered you with my treasures, I ensure you have everything you can desire, I stand by while you bring others to your bed. I am a General for the Empire and with all the riches I've sent my uncle, I know I am more than wealthy. What else must I do?" Harald's hardened voice softened, his steps slow as he approached, almost as if dealing with an animal that could lash out at any moment. 

"I never asked for any of that." (Y/N) reminded him softly, and allowed him closer with little complaint. Harald's hands found their way onto his hips, squeezing lightly and pulling him closer to him. (Y/N) turned his head away to avoid looking into Harald's soft eyes, for he knew it'd make it harder to keep to his wits if he dared look at his face.

"It is torture, (Y/N). You reject my advances yet accept the advances of others. You allow me to sleep in your bed some nights but refuse to other nights. I will not be able to take this for much longer. I... I don't know how you feel about me anymore." His hand rose to gently grab his face, turning his head so he'd be forced to look him in the eyes. (Y/N) pressed his lips tightly together and looked at the storm of emotions in his eyes, similar emotions he felt swirling in his gut. "I love you, (Y/N). I've loved you since the moment I witnessed your abilities and the care you have for those close to you. You have fascinated me for years, ever since the day I first laid eyes on you on that boat in Kattegat. I need you. My heart, my mind, my soul, my blood, it all longs for you."

"I want to believe you, Harald, but each time I allow myself to trust you.. you only do what you desire. I am simply living my life, and it seems that I suffer the least when you are not consuming me. I have my own home, my own things, I have new friends and- and yes, I have lovers but it is only because I am no longer waiting for you to change. I care for them.. and I know that if I were to ask, at least one of them would be willing to do what you refuse to. I'm happy, Harald."

The dreaded silence returned, leaving them to stare into each other's eyes. Harald leaned forward to press their foreheads together, his calloused thumb running back and forth over his cheek and his nose gently bumping against (Y/N)'s. He inhaled heavily. "We were happy once, back in Kattegat... in the cabin. We fight most when we live apart, (Y/N)... when we refuse to speak our minds. We were supposed to spend our time in Constantinople together. I want us to be happy again, together. We can go back to those times, back to what we once were. Allow me back in, (Y/N), and we can be happy together, I swear it."

"Harald..." (Y/N) exhaled, his arms unfolding and allowing Harald to press their chests firmly together. His fingers ran through the soft curls along the back of his head, his other hand resting on the prince's shoulder and lightly squeezing him. He felt the familiar feeling of Harald's breath dancing along his skin, a familiar desire bubbling in the pit of his stomach that he often tried pushing away. Harald's hands slipped down to grasp his hips again, squeezing once more and tugging him as close as possible. 

His fingers curved around the bottom of (Y/N)'s shirt and slipped under, dragging along his back and dancing over old scars until his palm pressed flat against him and he closed the distance. His lips pressed against (Y/N) and sent a shot of familiarity and longing down his spine that made (Y/N) push on Harald's head to be as close as possible. Harald's touch roamed under his shirt until he leaned down slightly to scoop his thighs in his hands and heave him up, a startled and muffled laugh leaving (Y/N). His parted lips allowed for Harald's tongue to dart between them and get him reacquainted with every inch of him as Harald's hefty legs led them toward (Y/N)'s bed. 

Harald plopped back on the bed, settling (Y/N) on his lap and bunching up his shirt in his hands. (Y/N) drew back for air and tilted his head back, shivering when Harald ghosted his lips over his throat until he found the spot he knew made (Y/N)'s breath hitch and lightly sunk his teeth into it. (Y/N) released a strangled groan and curled his fingers in Harald's hair, his arm sliding around his shoulders and lips leaving scattered kisses along the top of his head. 

Right as Harald went to lift (Y/N)'s shirt, the ground abruptly trembled with the sound of a distant explosion that made them both go still. The camp around them came to life with panicked and confused shouts, quiet panting escaping the two as they waited for more noise but nothing came. (Y/N) swallowed, his brows dipping into a furrow and hands pushing Harald's shoulders back.

"Seems like the Gods have spoken," He muttered, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and scrambling off Harald's lap before he could stand and knock him over. (Y/N) adjusted his shirt, tucking it into his pants before tossing apart the flaps of the tent and turning to look toward the fortress where a dark cloud of smoke rose from within the walls. His head snapped to look around him, searching those standing around for any sign of General Maniakes. The man was nowhere in sight. 

"Get us our horses!" Harald shouted toward the nearest Varangian, his eyes locked on the smoke rapidly rising toward the clouds above and waiting for any signs of other explosions. (Y/N) swore he could pick up the faint sound of screaming and wailing in the distance but nobody ran from the fortress in fear.

The Varangian solider sped off further into camp and returned with their two horses, handing them the reins and staggering back as the two climbed onto their respective mounts. The horses galloped forward the fortress at their commands, dodging past those standing around camp and heading up the trail toward the open gates. They skidded to a stop inside where the two spotted Leif being held back by General Maniake's men, a furious sneer on his face.

"How could you do this?!" Leif demanded with a shout, struggling against the soldiers surrounding him and holding him with the ferocity of a Viking. "Women and children!" 

"Our enemy." The lack of remorse or even sympathy in General Maniakes' voice sent a chill down (Y/N)'s spine, only pure venom dripping from the tongue of the man who'd been all too eager to go forth with a religious war. (Y/N) noticed the catapults nearby, the residue of sulfur littered around them, and with barely contained horror, his eyes dragged over to the section of the fortress that'd been gated shut, the sickly smell of burning flesh mixing with the stench of the sulfur.

"The Emperor gave his word!" Harald bristled, his knuckles turning white from the grip he held on the reins as he came to the same startling and horrifying realization. Maniakes looked at him over his shoulder, his lips curled up into a twisted sadistic smirk. (Y/N) had only ever seen the General show little emotion, his eyes almost always holding anger or malice.

"To a dead man." He turned to face them. "Saracens are like vermin. If you do not destroy them, they will multiply and spread, and soon wipe out Christianity. I did what the Emperor could not."

"You murdered them!" Leif spat viciously.

"No, Leif Eriksson," General Maniakes smirk only widened as he faced Leif and walked up to him, raising his sulfur-covered fingers up to his face. Leif swallowed thickly. "You did. It was your science that was the weapon. Your imagination did this. I... was just the messenger." 

With that, General Maniakes stepped away, stalking off with his soldiers right at his heels. The anger in Leif's body vanished, his shoulders slumping and chest heaving as a look of resignation, defeat, and realization passed over his face at once. The light that'd been in his body for so many years had been swiftly extinguished with just a few words. (Y/N) could only watch hopelessly. 

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The streets of Constantinople had been filled to the brim with residents and travelers welcoming back the armies and congratulating them on their success with cheers, whistles, claps, and music. They stood at the sidelines as the two Generals led their armies through the street with their heads held high with pride. They'd both been given new armor with a lion as the crest; the beginning of their rewards for succeeding in Sicily. (Y/N) followed behind Harald's horse, surrounded by his friends and brother in the march to meet the Emperor and Empress who eagerly awaited their arrival. 

(Y/N) snorted when a woman broke away from the crowd to race up to Batu, her hands grasping the sides of his face and mushing their lips together for a messy kiss. Dorn immediately scowled and tore the woman away from him, shoving her roughly back into the crowd before throwing a half-hearted punch at the bewildered Batu's arm. Kaysan cackled and held a hand to his stomach, staggering forward to clap Batu's shoulder and tease them.

"Keep going," Leif said into his ear, patting his shoulder before he stepped out of the march and into the crowd near an alleyway. (Y/N) slowed down his pace and frowned at the sight of his brother disappearing through the crowd, his heartstrings tugging violently but his feet continuing to walk forward. Leif needed his space, he wouldn't rid him of that. 

The armies eventually broke off into two sections once they reached the outer yard of the palace, one side for General Maniake's men and another for General Harald's men. The two generals stepped onto a wooden podium decorated with vines and flowers, the chaos and music around them dying down so the priest who stood on the balcony overlooking them could speak. 

"Pantodýnama Kyverníti, órise aftoús tous stratiótes stous Agíous Sou Angélous, fýlaxé tous me ti dýnamí Sou kai krátisé tous ypó tin prostasía Sou. Amen!" Almighty Ruler, assign these soldiers to Your Holy Angels, guard them with Your strength, and keep them under Your protection. Even if living in Constaniople hadn't been his first choice, he'd been able to learn a new language with the help of Leif. Those in the crowd who practiced the faith bowed their heads and made a cross with their fingers before erupting into cheers at the sight of Emperor Romanos. 

Raising his hand, he waited for the cheering to cease before speaking, "Today, we welcome back our beloved army.. and celebrate their overwhelming victory in Sicily! The victory of your sons, sons of the mightiest people in the world, the people of Constantinople; an Empire that stretches from the Alps to Asia!" He raised his arms and the crowd cheered, a wide smile on his face. "And now, I present my wife, the Empress Zoe."

Over the past seven years, (Y/N) had watched her transform from Lady Eleana to Empress Zoe of Constantinople. She'd seemingly fallen into the role of the empress with little trouble, managing to exude an aura of grace and regalness as she strode up to take her place beside her husband. She smiled, looking between her two loyal Generals. Married life suited her well, and the Emperor always seemed to regard her with much respect and love. Yet still, her eyes glided over to him and then jumped back to the two men.

"Georgios Maniakes.. and Harald Sigurdsson, you are true sons of Constantinople, and we are in your debt. As a reward for your triumphant actions in Sicily, we bestow upon you the title, Spatharokandidatos, the highest honor of an Imperial Warrior, a status signified by your new armor. Behold your heroes!" At her words, the cheering resumed and the two turned around to face their armies and show off the new armor, and their new status. 

As expected, within the palace was a feast and more celebrations for the army and especially for those close to the Generals. Music played throughout the halls and many danced, cheering and celebrating another win. (Y/N) merely watched as he grazed on the food available, snacking on the various fruits and taking small sips of the wine being offered around. Batu, Dorn, and Kaysan chatted amongst themselves, laughing and exchanging antidotes. (Y/N) listened, chuckling or nodding along until a hand delicately, and briefly, touched his arm. 

"Empress," The three ceased their chatter yet still held wide smiles as they bowed their heads. (Y/N) finished his wine and set it aside before turning around to face Empress Zoe and dipping his head as well. Her smile widened, shifting away from polite to genuine as her eyes softened. Rare were the times they could all be together and chat as they once did. 

"It is good to see you all." She admitted softly, glancing around in search of the missing men before she looked at (Y/N) with furrowed brows. "Where is Leif?"

"He was tired when we arrived. I assume he's gone home to rest for the day."

"Ah, well, tell him I miss him, and I am glad he still plots his own course instead of doing what others want." Empress Zoe told him, a gentle chuckle escaping her. Her light blue eyes studied his features, her earrings swaying with the movements of her crowned head. The others exchanged glances and dipped their heads again, slipping away to leave them be with quiet chuckles and whispers. "I am glad to see you, (Y/N). It has been much time since we last spoke. I don't believe I ever thanked you for looking out for me on our voyage here. It seems like so long ago, but I remember the good times we all had." 

"Yes, the others often speak of those times." (Y/N) smiled, lightly clearing his throat and glancing over his shoulder at his friends. He hardly wished to be left alone with Empress Zoe, especially with the Emperor's keen eye watching them from his throne. He licked his lips and looked back at her, gazing over the long, beautiful gown she wore. It was a shimmery dark blue with golden designs in the shapes of features along her chest, shoulders, and neck that were similar to the crown on her head. "Marriage and ruling becomes you, Zoe."

"Thank you." She smiled bashfully, her fingers lacing together and her eyes glittering with joy. "I do regret not being able to see you on the battlefield anymore, it's always been where you shine best. Though, if you perhaps would prefer staying home, I could always speak with my husband on finding a different job for you." 

"Oh, I-"

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to take away one of my finest warriors, Empress. I often require his advice on many things." Harald's voice cut in, light and teasing but with an undertone only (Y/N) seemed to pick up. Jealously, as it seemed, appeared to be an emotion Harald had become aquantainted with. He stopped at his side and took a swing of the wine in hand, his eyes holding Empress Zoe's gaze as he set his cup aside.

"Spatharokandidatos," She greeted, her head slightly tilting to the side. "I must know, with all your victories, do you still wish to return to Norway and be king?" 

"My desires have never wavered, Empress. I still believe it is my destiny, even if others do not." Harald's gaze slid over to (Y/N), his words bringing a deadpan look to (Y/N)'s face. He rolled his eyes and picked up another cup of wine from one of the passing trays, squinting at the grin that spread on Harald's lips. "Though, I believe some destinies can change over time and with certain circumstances."

"I see." Empress Zoe hummed and stepped back, her gown sliding along the floor with each stride she took until she slipped out of view. (Y/N) swallowed down a gulp of wine that burned his throat, his lips no doubt stained from the drinks he'd had throughout the celebration, and he turned to look at Harald only to notice some palace guards approaching.

"Spatharokandidatos, you must come with us." One of them ordered, and (Y/N) heart sank when Harald furrowed his brows in confusion. He gave a curt nod and glanced at (Y/N) and the others before being escorted out of the room. (Y/N) stared after him, his fingers anxiously digging and rubbing into the designs on his cup.

Unable to provide the others with answers and finding little to distract himself with, (Y/N) excused himself and left the palace, making his way out into the bright, bustling streets of Constantinople. He reached to his shoulders and unclipped the blue cape from his armor to avoid drawing attention from others as he walked through the streets, entering through alleyways and stepping up countless staircases until he reached the street his home resided on. 

(Y/N) pushed the gate open and walked down the pathway until he spotted the stone house perched on a hill overlooking the glimmering ocean; though it was hardly anything in comparison to Leif's home and Harald's estate. He immediately felt at peace away from the noise and hustle of city life, stepping through the wooden doors and finding his belongings sitting on the floor. Ridding himself of the cape and armor and changing into more comfortable clothing, he began putting everything away back where it belonged with the scent of the salty ocean breeze flowing in and clinging to his skin once more. 

With his home taken care of, he decided to check on his brother and took the stone trail leading to Mariam's old place. The subtle smell of smoke and fire filled his nose as he ascended the stairs, taking note of the lit fire pit bowl and the contents slowly burning inside. He moved closer and reached in, pinching and pulling out a piece of paper before the flames could lick at his hand. He gently blew on it and brought it close to his face, faintly making out words written in Arabic. 

"I have no use for these any longer." The exhaustion in Leif's voice made him wince and he watched with a frown as Leif tossed in scrolls, journals, and papers, the fire eagerly eating and burning them. "This knowledge, the writings... it all led to the destruction of innocents." 

"Leif, everything can be destructive if wielded by the wrong person. Weapons, knowledge, kingdoms... Maniake's actions are not on you. You cannot let him get into your mind. He is merely another Jarl Kåre eager to hurt what you believe in." (Y/N) crumbled the paper in his hands and followed his brother into the home that so comfortingly felt like a living part of Mariam. "Do you truly believe he wouldn't have hurt those people? He wanted this, Leif. It was all part of his religious war on those opposed to Christianity."

"And if I had been more careful with my things, then perhaps he wouldn't have taken notice and used it against me," Leif responded, sharply turning to face his brother and grabbing his shoulders, a heavy sigh leaving him. "Seeing those innocents die... seeing them burn alive made me think of all we've done. The places we've conquered that did not surrender easily, the people we've slaughtered fighting other men's wars... for what? The first war we fought was for Freydis, and then what of the others? For glory? For rewards? Blood needlessly spilled... I cannot bear it." 

(Y/N) stared at him, his brows slowly lowering and his frown only growing. "You're leaving... aren't you?" His voice sounded soft, like that of a child's and he swallowed harshly, his heart squeezing. Leif's shoulders slumped and he dropped his hands from (Y/N)'s shoulders, his lips pressing together as he gave a small nod of confirmation. "Oh." He breathed shakily. 

"I know it is not what you wish to hear, (Y/N), and I won't ask you to follow me again. You have made a home here in Constantinople and I cannot ask you to abandon it for me. I have... found that knowledge, even when I wished to use it for good, only seems to destroy things. In my thirst for knowledge, I hardly stopped to think of the people who lost their homes because of us. I don't want to bloody my hands any further." 

Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he forced out a hum, nodding slowly. "Where- Where will you go? If you are returning to Greenland-" 

"No, no, not Greenland." Leif shook his head and stepped aside, retrieving his satchel from the floor and dumping the contents inside over the table. He sorted through them until he found a rolled-up paper, spreading it out against the table. (Y/N) shifted closer and peered down at it, blinking dumbfoundedly at what he assumed to be a drawing. Largely made of blue with white lines and two muted yellow shapes on opposite sides. "I found this in the library in the Book of the Unknown. Nobody knows what it is supposed to be or who made it, only that its origins trace back to Corfu. I suspect that this-" He pointed to one of the shapes. "-is Greenland, and this land across is the Golden Land." 

"The Golden Land? The land you believed you saw on that fishing trip? The one with the tall trees just over the horizon? Father said it was nothing, Leif." 

"I know, I know, but if I can ask the creator of this map why he drew this or where this land is located, I could find it once more. It is why I plan on traveling to Corfu and asking the people there for their local mapmaker. He may know what this is or point me in the direction of who made it." Leif explained, rolling the paper back up and offering him a sad smile as he cupped his cheek. "I know it will be hard. I cannot imagine sailing without you, (Y/N), but sooner or later we would've had to part ways. I swear on the memory of Mariam and Liv, I will come back once I find my answers. Then, if this Golden Land really exists, we can go to Jomsborg and tell Freydis about it."

"I don't think I can manage without you, Leif." (Y/N) admitted softly, shakily. "I've always gone everywhere with you. I've always been your shoulder, your partner, your right hand. What if something happens? What if I need you and you're not here? Parting ways with Freydis and not knowing how she's been doing is hard enough but-"

"You will manage, (Y/N). You're stronger than you think. You've survived the cruelty of man and nature and still hold little hate in your heart. I know things have been hard between you and Harald, and I am hardly the right person to ask when it comes to love... but you can rely on him, if not as a lover then as a friend. Kaysan, Batu, Dorn... they need you and you need them. You'll take care of each other, I know you will." Leif assured him gently, leaning forward to press a fleeting kiss to his forehead. "You made a promise to your prince, and you've never been one to break a promise. If I do not come back in time and I hear of a new king being crowned in Norway, I'll know where to find you."

(Y/N) felt like a child again as the hot tears spilled over his cheeks and trickled off his chin, memories of his younger self weeping when Leif and the older boys went on fishing trips with the adults resurfacing. Simpler times then, when the only thing he cried over were his brother leaving or his father going on one of his angry tangents. He threw his arms around Leif and buried his face in his shoulder, his body lightly trembling with sobs. 

"(Y/N)," Leif exhaled, a slight tremor in his voice that he swallowed down, his arms wrapping tightly around him in return. He caressed the back of (Y/N)'s head as he ran soothing circles along his back, a strained chuckle escaping him. "You know we'll always find each other. You, Freydis, and I... in this life and the next, and all the lives that follow, we'll always find each other. Remember that, Brother. Remember where you came from and- and who you are... remember who your family is. We are Vikings, no matter where we go."

"I know," (Y/N) sighed, sniffling as he drew back. He wiped at his wet cheeks, brushing away the tears and letting a small smile grace his features. Leif returned it, his eyes gleaming with tears that he managed to hold back. "I love you, Leif."

"And I'll always love you too, (Y/N)."

[koushiro23]

Thor x Female Hiccup Reader

In all of Valhalla, the Norse Gods knew of Dragons. How there were different species, with different attributes and abilities. The Norse knew how dangerous Dragons were, they either avoided them or killed them so, they didn’t attack villages.

But that changed when they saw someone flying on a Dragon. Even more so, a Viking. Those of the Norse Pantheon knew how much Vikings hated Dragons and normally exterminated them on sight. So, to see a Viking riding on the back of a dragon was a shock.    

When questioned about it, the Viking said that the heir to his tribe showed them that Dragons weren’t vicious beasts, that they could be trained. When asked about who the heir was, all they said was they rode on the back of a Night Fury.

As time went on more and more Vikings were started being seen on the backs of Dragons and not attacking each other.

It had been months later, when the Gods finally met the Dragon Rider who started it all.

Thor:

Thor met you by accident, he was creating a lightning storm. And because it was so cloudy, Thor didn’t realize he hit something until a roar and shriek sounded off. Startling him that he saw something black crash into the forest.

Normally Thor wasn’t the type to indulge in his curiosities, but something inside of him made him check it out.

After a few minutes of searching, did he find what had fallen from the sky. It was a big mass of black scales, that he instantly knew that it was a Night Fury.

The God tried to be quiet to get a better look at the creature, but he wasn’t as quiet as he thought, because the Night Fury’s head suddenly snapped towards the God of Thunder. It’s cat-like green eyes staring into his own.

Thor looked at the Dragon and noticed the what looked like a saddle on it’s back and it looked like it was missing a tail fin. He tensed when he heard the beast growl.

He was getting ready to fight when a voice cried out “Toothless!” and out of nowhere, a young woman ran in front of the Night Fury – ‘Toothless’ Thor’s mind supplied – she took out a sword, the blade catching on fire. Ready to protect the Dragon behind her.

And that was how the God of Thunder, met the Dragon Master.

After that encounter, the two of you became good friends. After the mishap with Thor accidentally striking the both you and Toothless to the ground, you guys got along quite well. Even Toothless got along well with him (even if the larger male gave him extra fish when you weren’t looking).

You told him how you came across Toothless, how you lost your leg to the Red Death. How hard you worked for Vikings and Dragons to co-exist, and protecting Dragons from those who hunt dragons. Thor wouldn’t say it out loud but he admired, that about you, how you always strived to do the right thing and protecting others.

It was one of the reasons why he fell in love with you.

While you weren’t like the other Vikings, he wouldn’t have you any other way.

[thenameswinter99]

Tag game: tag 9 (SPOILER: they will not be 9) people you’d like to get to know better.

Thank you @whitedarkmoonflower for the tag! 💜

Last song: Ultraviolence by Lana del Rey. I'm slowly becoming a huge fan of Lana. I barely listened to the songs of her Born To Die era, I regret having discovered her latest albums too late.

Currently watching: I'm rewatching the last season of Vikings with my boyfriend, so we could watch (and rewatch for me) Vikings Valhalla. I am about to resume watching The Crown, I just saw the first two seasons. Three ships: Oh gosh, this is very hard... I will say the three ships I'm still obsessed with:

Merthur (Merlin x Arthur, Merlin)

Athelnar (Ragnar Lothbrok x Athelstan, Vikings) I consider them more a platonic relationship than a male x male one

Crejace (Cregan Stark x Jacaerys Velaryon/Targaryen, House of the Dragon) I CAN'T wait to see them on screen. I love their relationship in Fire and Blood, and seeing Tom Taylor and Harry Collett hanging around toghether made me cry all my tears out. (Even if I am still disappointed Arnas was not casted as Cregan, but I trust Tom's acting skill) P.S. Shoutout to @sylasthegrim that fuel my Crejace obsession with her gorgeous fic. Really, girl. You made my day with your fic.

Favorite color: black and purple, I can't choose.

Currently consuming: Chocolate. Lots of chocolate.

First ship: This is a hard one, too. But I could say my first m/m ship ever was Destiel (Dean Winchester x Castiel) from Supernatural. I loved them, I still love them even if I'm not so attached to the Supernatural fandom like before.

Relationship status: Currently in a two-years relationship

Last movie: The Prince of Egypt

Currently working on: Two fics: an Athelstan x Reader and a Sihtric x Reader. It is a very, very slow work as my writing skills are awful. This is the first time I write English fics and I realize my vocabulary is not as rich as I was expecting. And I'm about to start a drawing on Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Tagging @sihtricsafin , @sunfyre-targaryen , @realskyrimsimmer and everyone who will see this post.

[author-morgan]

I really love your Eivor stories! If you’re thank requests would you be able to do an arranged marriage story - where Eivor and a Anglo Saxon princess have to marry to unite their clans and at first their not happy about but when they meet they get along, especially on the wedding night 😉 - thank you! x

♥ Here you are! I hope you like it (sorry for the wait). 

m!Eivor x fem!Reader

EIVOR AND HIS brother, Sigurd, stand before Ceolmund —a powerful Saxon king crowned with the aid of the Norsemen standing before him. Now King Ceolmund of Lothian wishes to secure a lasting alliance with the Raven Clan, one that would not fade at the hands of time. It is marriage the new king speaks of. A marriage between his only beloved daughter and one of the men who laid a crown and kingdom at his feet.

Ceolmund looks to Sigurd to accept, but he shakes his head and dips his shoulders forward in a display of genuflection. “I cannot accept this gracious offer, lord, for I am bound to another already–” Sigurd’s gaze falls upon Eivor “–but my brother…”

He is cut off by Eivor, pulling harshly on the baldric securing his greatsword. “What are you doing?” Eivor hisses under his breath. He had come to secure an alliance and crown another Saxon king who’d look upon the Danes and Norse in favor —not to marry a stranger with no forewarning and on his brother’s whim.

Sigurd turns, his gaze sharp. A curt reminder that he is Jarl of the Raven Clan, not Eivor. “Calm yourself, brother,” he snaps. There’s a pause, heavy with silence, and Sigurd’s smile turns into that of a serpent’s. “It’s past time you wed anyway. Don’t you think?” Eivor glares at his brother, but Sigurd ignores the harsh look and turns back to King Ceolmund. “My brother,” he starts, motioning to the warrior standing to his right, “the honorable Eivor Wolf-kissed, will accept.”

Ceolmund rises from his throne, stepping onto the short dais —arms outstretched toward Eivor. “I should hear it from thine own lips,” he says, meeting Eivor’s uneasy gaze. What he is asking is no small task, but with Sigurd’s hasty acceptance, he has hope Eivor will follow his Jarl’s wishes. In truth, a piece of him is relieved it is Eivor Wolfsmal and not Sigurd. “Will you forge the bonds of an alliance and lasting friendship between our peoples through marriage to my daughter?”

“You honor me, lord,” Eivor tells Ceolmund with a knot forming in his throat, making it hard to speak. He bows his head. “I accept your offer of an alliance through marriage.”

MARRIAGE, THE WORD sits bitterly on your tongue after your father, King Ceolmund of Lothian, comes to visit your chambers in a decaying Roman fortress. “Mother would be ashamed!” You spit, fraught with the sudden news of your impending marriage to a heathen —a matter in which you had no say. “Using me as a bartering piece. A pawn in your games.” You’d trusted your father.

“He’s a good man,” your father refutes. Throughout three moons, he felt he had come to know the man who would marry his daughter —an honest man who wished to do right by his people and protect them even if it meant shedding blood and sweat for quarrels that were not his own. Ceolmund could not ask for a better man —Christian or pagan— to marry his daughter. 

You would rather be sworn to the likes of King Aelfred than one of the godless invaders crawling over England. “He’s a heathen!” You cry. “A barbarian!” 

Ceolmund pinches the bridge of his nose, drawing in a long breath. There will be a feast tonight to celebrate his coronation, where he will make the announcement and begin wedding preparations. He will not ask you to feign happiness, only civility. “Please,” Ceolmund says, holding your shaking hands, “all I ask is that you do not insult our new position or friends tonight.” But even that seemed to be a hefty request now. 

“Princess,” Eivor greets, his clear blue gaze kind and voice softened by a cup of ale. “If I may have a word?” Across the table, your father nods, imploring you to take leave of the feast to speak with the man you’d be marrying in less than a fortnight. You lay your hand in Eivor’s as you rise and follow him from the keep, into the cool air of a spring night to a bench facing a northern vista with snowcapped hills far off in the distance. A frown purses his lips as he sees despair mingled with fear overtake your expression —like a newly caged bird who lost her song. “I know you are not happy with this arrangement,” he starts, gaining your attention. From his tone, you can tell he is not particularly happy either, “but know I will not harm you, and I will protect you until the Valkyries summon me home.” 

You trace the sharp features of his face, lingering on the deep scar across his cheek. In your contemplative silence, Eivor reaches for one of your hands —gently holding it within his own, a soft assurance that his words had been sincere. His fingers are rough from long years of work and fighting, and when he folds them around your hand, it makes you feel small —feeble, even. “You are not what I expected, Eivor,” you note, adverting your gaze. 

“What did you expect?” Eivor asks, curious to know if he and his people had been the monsters in the bedtime tales your mother used to tell. It seemed a common thing across England for Norse and Danes to be made out as devils, or worse. 

“I would spare you from my initial thoughts,” you note, quietly with the color of shame on your cheeks, “for now they feel foolish.” Indeed, you were told stories of the Northmen as a child —that they were bloodthirsty, godless barbarians who raped and pillaged across the countryside. While every story had a grain of truth, Eivor Wolfsmal only desires what is best for his people —strong alliances, good friends, fertile land, and a place to rest his head. You lay your hand atop his, offering a reserved smile. “Know you have eased my mind and heart this night.”

EIVOR STEALS YOU away in the afternoon from your loom and threads, leading you to the edge of the mark and a field of wildflowers. A quiet place compared to the bustling streets of Edinburgh —the seat of Lothian— amid celebrations and preparations. Eivor speaks of his childhood with Sigurd, laughing at the foolish things he’d done as a boy. Eivor’s laugh is charming —a low rumble from deep in his chest— and his smile contagious. 

You tell of the time you and a dear friend used boiled wine for an awful prank on your poor mother. Even on her deathbed, you wondered if she ever forgave you for using the wine as fake blood when you stumbled into her solar, holding the hilt of a broken sword against your stomach. 

He spins the stem of a yellow wildflower between his thumb and forefinger as he tells you of his gods. Curiosity had won over you after hearing brief stories from people in the markets about Thor, Loki, and Odin. Eivor leans forward, tucking the flower behind your ear, finishing the tale of Odin’s sacrifice for knowledge after consulting with the embalmed head of Mímir. “He gave his eye?” Eivor nods, and you cringe at the thought of having to pluck your own eye out. 

From above, a raven swoops down, landing on Eivor’s shoulder. His name is Sýnin, and he has been Eivor’s companion for many years. You reach to stroke his oil-slick feathers and are rewarded with a low, gurgling croak before he takes flight again in the light of the setting sun. 

Eivor reclines, arms folded behind his head —looking up at the sky. You lay back too and compelled by a moment of boldness you rest your head on his chest. The fading blue linen tunic he wears in lieu of his leather armor is soft against your cheek. Eivor stiffens at first, then relaxes though a part of him wonders if you can hear his heart beating faster. After a moment of passing silence, he drapes one of his arms across your middle. Above, the sky begins to shift from the soft orange and pinks of sunset to deep indigo. “What do your gods tell you of the stars?”

EIVOR TAKES THE piece of linen from your hands, shaking his head. “You should not have to tend my wounds, princess,” he notes, wiping away the blood running down his arm from a cut near his shoulder. He returned from a hunt with your father, hiding the bloody wound from a skirmish with bandits. It was not grievous, though it bled heavily. Still, even warriors need to have small injuries tended. Even a soured scratch could send the strongest of men to the grave. 

You’ve grown up in an age of continuous small wars between petty kingdoms and Danes alike and have seen the aftermath of missing limbs and burning flesh. Shying away from blood is not in your nature after aiding physicians in infirmaries after battle —especially when it is your future husband who bleeds. “We are to be wed, Eivor,” you remind him, taking the piece of linen back from him, “and so long as your wounds are not beyond my skill, I shall tend them.” He does not protest again. 

He watches a flush of warmth creep up your neck and into your cheeks as your eyes dart over his bare chest —he is broad of shoulders and chest with thick and strong arms to match. Clearing your throat, you dapple away the last drops of blood and move to mix a paste of yarrow powder and water in a small mortar. Eivor winces at the initial sting of the paste on the cut, but it stems any new blood from welling as quick as a hot iron. 

You sit next to him on the straw bed, reaching for one of his hands. Ceolmund had been right. Eivor is a good man. Yet for all the fondness that has grown in your heart, you remain unsure about marriage and what will happen when you must leave the only home you’ve known. The worries gnaw at your mind and heart. Even if you have started to believe you could love Eivor in time —that there is a chance of contentment in this union. His fingers curl around yours, squeezing gently, as though he can sense your trepidations. “Do you think we can be happy with this arrangement?” You ask, voice trembling and gaze focused on your entwined hands. 

Eivor cups your cheek, and you meet his clear blue gaze. At first, he’d been uncertain, upset even with his brother for forcing his hand, but now, after the long days you’ve spent with one another, Eivor has no doubts. “I do,” he replies —echoing the vows he will soon take. “I’ve enjoyed our time together,” he says with a fleeting smile. Preparations for the wedding had taken longer than anticipated, giving you and Eivor a full month to become acquainted with one another.

“As have I,” you admit. The days you’ve spent with him have been some of the best in recent memory. His thumb absently strokes your cheek, and you smile, leaning into his touch. “Eivor?” He raises his brow in question, letting his hand fall away from your face. A warmth blossoms in your chest, spurring the same type of boldness you felt that evening in the meadow. “May I kiss you?”

“We are to be wed,” he echoes, smiling —lifting both his hands to cup your cheeks. “You need not ask.” Eivor’s close-cropped golden beard tickles and scratches your cheek when you lean forward, closing what distance remains and placing your lips on his. He leads you, parting your lips with a soft sigh. It takes but a moment for you to fall in rhythm and meld against him. You can feel his lips twitch into a smile when one of your hands slides up his chest, the other resting over the mottled patch of skin on his neck.

THE DOORS SHUT, and you jump, suddenly feeling skittish. The wedding ceremony had come to pass, as had the feast and festivities though now you stand in the center of your bedchambers looking upon your blessed marital bed and knowing what is expected of you. Your husband stands before an open window, barefooted and stripped of the pale embroidered tunic from earlier. He complained during the feast about how scratchy it was. “Eivor?” He turns, stepping toward you —brows furrowed. “It is our wedding night,” you note, voice betraying a veneer of strength. 

Eivor grips onto your shoulders, then lets his hands glide up your neck to cup your cheeks, lifting your gaze to his. He does not wish to see fear and doubt in his wife’s eyes. “I promised I would not hurt you–” he kisses your forehead then returns his kindly gaze to you “–I meant that.” You let out a shaky breath, smiling as he runs his thumbs over your cheeks. “My gods can wait,” he tells you, “so can your God and priests.” Eivor moves one of his hands to your waist, resting his forehead on yours. “We are bound by oath, which should be enough.” Before gods and men alike, you took one another as husband and wife in sickness and health. 

You catch his wrist, sliding his hand up from your neck —peppering his fingertips with gentle kisses. He watches you, lips parted and heart aching. Eivor did not think he gave his heart away so freely, but the knot in his throat as he catches your fleeting smile tells him he had. Loving you was not a difficult feat. 

Closing your eyes, you draw in a slow breath, and the streak of bravado returns. With a final kiss to his palm, you guide his hand to rest on one of your clothed breasts. “Eivor.” You speak his name as though it is a quiet prayer, a soft plead to have you as a husband should have his wife. He pulls on the string at the neck of your shift, loosening it until he can push the thin material off your shoulders. It puddles around your ankles, and though bare, you still hold Eivor’s gaze. He draws in a sharp breath as his eyes dart over the length of your body —it does not escape him that he is the first to see you like this. His eyes darken, though, through the lust, there is a plethora of adoration. 

Calloused fingers caress your sides and stomach, tracing random patterns into your flesh, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He kisses a path along your jaw, a strong hand coming to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place when you shy away from the tickle of his beard. His other hand skims across your waist before settling on your hip, securing you in his hold. 

“Princess–” Eivor breathes, worried one more kiss will make it nigh impossible for him to stop, but you quieten him with your lips, chasing away any hesitance lingering between the two of you of what lies in store for the night.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer till he sweeps your feet out from under you —laughing at your surprised squeak as he carries you to bed. Eivor lays you on the soft pelts of fur, his weight hovering above you, braced on his forearms. Cupping his face in your hands, you ignore the prickly bite of his beard as you kiss him again, your knees bracketing his hips, brushing against the patched linen and leather of his britches. “You’re sweeter than Freyja, wife,” he muses, kissing the soft swell of your breast —the lingering scent of roses and raspberries tickling his nose. 

Kissing his way down your chest, he drags his teeth across one of your nipples, giving the other a quick tweak. Chills spread across your flesh as you arch into his mouth —hands slipping into his hair. Hands gripping your thighs, Eivor urges you to part your legs wider for him. Doing as instructed, you watch, breathlessly, as he moves across your stomach, leaving open mouth kisses in his wake. Eivor drags his beard against your hip, nipping at the skin there. The warmth in your belly turns to flames. 

Twitching in his hold, you clutch the pelts beneath your hands —heart pounding in anticipation. Eivor in no rush, for there are many hours until the crows sing. He kisses your inner thighs, hot breath fanning against you. The first brush of his tongue has you sighing his name, eyes sliding shut as he laps at your slick folds. Holding your legs open, he makes love to you with his mouth alone. Eivor relishes in the small, obscene noises you make while trembling above him —his cock twitches, but he ignores his desires a moment longer. He leaves no part of you left untouched, his mouth finding every nook and crevice, laving and suckling to his heart's content. 

You burn, the fire in your belly demanding more, cunt fluttering around his tongue, aching for relief. “Eivor,” you whimper, chest heaving as your tug at his golden hair, fingers clutching at his unbound strands. He grunts, huffing a ragged chuckle when your hips move of their own accord —thighs fighting his iron grip. Eivor nuzzles at you, spreading you open with his thumbs. You cry out at the first touch of his tongue to your clit, but then he wraps his lips around the swollen bundle, tongue flicking out. Your body bends to his will, as though you are but wet clay in the hands of a skilled potter. 

Enraptured, you barely notice when he eases one finger into your warmth and then a second —slowly thrusting and stroking. The flames in your belly flood your veins, and with a wordless moan, you give in to the hedonistic haze —it feels as though nothing matters beyond this with the waves and sparks fizzing through your blood. 

Eivor wheedles you down from the high, gradually, murmuring words of praise between your thighs —how beautiful you looked in the throes of passion, how sweet you tasted, finer than sweet honey mead. He eases his fingers from you and crawls back up your body, retracing a similar path with kisses and soft nips. When he kisses you, you can taste your essence of his lips and tongue and feel the hard length pressing against your inner thigh through his pants. It makes you ache with need and want.

Fumbling with the ties of his pants and underpants, Eivor hurriedly pushes them down his legs and tossing them to the side, wedging himself back between your thighs. You feel the blunt head of his cock glide between your folds, his hips rocking back-and-forth as he coats himself in your slick. Heart racing, your body cries out at his languid teasing. Eivor lowers his mouth to your shoulder, worrying the skin between his teeth, his eyes never leaving yours. 

One of his hands moves slips between the bed and your back, moving further to cradle the back of your head as he guides himself with his free hand into your warmth. You grip onto his shoulder, nails digging into his back as he presses forward, slowly, giving you time to adjust to his girth until he is fully seated —hips flush against yours. With only a thin line dividing pleasure from pain, you understand why the act could be sacrilege in the eyes of God, nothing should make a man or woman feel so divine. 

He braces his weight on bent forearms, one of his hands cupping your cheek as he skims your expression for pain or discomfort. He finds none, only a soft smile and hazy, lust-darkened eyes. You guide him down, kissing him —draping one of your legs across the back of his thigh. “Eivor?” A low hum resounds his acknowledgment, though he busies himself leaving a soft line of kisses from the corner of your lips to your temple. “You can move now,” you tell him —pushing your hips up into his. 

Eivor kisses you, his tongue parting your lips as he rocks his hips back and presses forward —swallowing a soft gasp and then another as he draws back further. It’s a slow rhythm of long and deep strokes that lets you feel the slow drag of his cock with each thrust. He hovers above you, punctuating some thrusts with a kiss and others with a raspy curse to the gods. You draw your legs up his sides, spreading them wider —welcoming Eivor to claim you as he desires. 

Every push and pull of his hips brings him deeper inside you. Eivor pants at your ear, his breathing ragged and strained as his pace falters —thrusts growing quicker and rougher as he seeks his release. Beneath your palms, the muscles in his back and shoulders ripple, contracting with each thrust. 

The hand tangled in your hair disappears —rough fingers sliding between your breasts and across your stomach, down to where your body is joined with his. He presses his thumb against your clit, stroking and rubbing circles, and smiles against your neck at his reward —soft cries of his name mingled with breathy moans and the feel of your walls fluttering around his cock. 

A low hiss escapes him when your nails scrap over the skin of his back and shoulders, seeking purchase as you tremble and writhe —tilting your head back into a pillow, back arching from the bed. The flames from earlier return, taking hold of you and spreading through your veins in a hot wave. Eivor’s name topples from your lips like a prayer as you cling to him, body shaking and driving him closer to his end. 

You squeeze him with your thighs and grip onto his biceps, thrumming with pleasure as he ruts into you, grunting. With another thrust, his body shudders, and his hips still as his cock twitches deep inside your warmth. Eivor’s lips part as he lets out a string of curses and praises —moaning. You cup his face, smoothing the furrow in his brows and tracing the deep scar on his cheek. Shaking, he rolls his hips into yours thrice more and accepts your kiss when you guide him down to your lips again.

Spent, Eivor lays his head on your breast and memorizes the feel of your sweat slicken bodies flush against one another. You drape an arm around his shoulders, stroking back his golden hair. A good arrangement, he thinks to himself, kissing the soft skin next to his lips. “I am proud and happy to call you my wife,” he breathes, turning his clear blue gaze up to you. He hadn’t a true choice in this marriage, but given the chance, he would still choose you a hundred times over. 

His words make your heart swell with warmth and bring tears to your eyes. “I feel the same, husband,” you note —fingers combing through his beard. Only a short time has passed, but it seems as if the two of you were always meant to find one another —heresy be damned. It had not taken long, but you are certain you already love him. 

Lying there in each other’s arms, time slows to an eternity. You whine when he slides his softening cock out of you —leaving an empty feeling as his warm seed trickles down your thighs. He chuckles as he moves from the bed and gathers up a linen towel. He thinks you a sight to behold lying atop the furs with wild hair and a debauched smile. Eivor cleans the mess between your legs and soothes the few red marks on your hips and thighs with quick kisses before rejoining you beneath the covers. 

He lays on his side, and you pillow your head on his outstretched arm, nuzzling close against his chest and threading one of your legs through his. Eivor presses his cheek to the crown of your head and strokes your hair. “Rest, princess,” he breathes, knowing the gods had been good to lead him to a woman like you.

THE LONGSHIP COMES to dock before a bustling borough in the heart of Mercia. Eivor offers his hand, helping you onto the wharf. After spending the majority of a week on the river, it is good to feel solid ground beneath your feet for more than a hasty meal or uneasy rest on the riverbanks. “Princess-” Eivor smiles, motioning toward the people and the wooden storefronts and homes set before the longhouse rising from a hill “–Ravensthorpe.” Love and pride fill his heart, spilling over into a bright smile and voice. You glance the settlement and back to your husband, placing a quick kiss on his scarred cheek before taking the well-trodden path to the longhouse. 

A band of excited children races toward the docks with a white-and-grey wolf cub nipping at their heels, shouting with glee at Eivor’s return. It’s been months since Eivor last helped with their lessons or played with them by the waterfall. They take him by storm and force. At the bottom pile, you can make out his deep laughter among the excited cries. You cannot help but smile. Eivor Wolfsmal is loved, not just by you, but his people. 

He rises from the ground, smiling as he brushes off the dirt from his tunic, having whispered something to the rowdy group that sent them running for the longhouse. “Felled by children and a wolf pup. Are you sure you’re a drengr?” You ask, laughing as you pluck a small clot of grass from his hair and wipe away the streak of mud on his unmarred cheek. 

Eivor’s eyes narrow, lips kinking into a taunting smirk. “Are you mocking me, wife?” He challenges. 

You clutch your heart, feigning offense at his accusation. “The mighty Eivor?” He raises a brow at the moniker. Mighty, it is a title he could get used to, just as he had grown used to hearing you call him husband in a sweet, singsong voice. “Never,” you smile. 

Word of his return spreads quickly, and before the merchant’s tent, most of the settlement gathers, smiling as they welcome Eivor home and are equally as quick to embrace you as one of their own. All doubts are chased away when Eivor wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your temple, smiling. “Welcome home,” he breathes —it is good to be back in Ravensthorpe, but even better to have you at his side. 

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[im-not-a-writer]

Male Eivor x Reader ~Fear~

-Hey everyone! Wow it’s been.... A really long time since I’ve written anything here... Well with AC Valhalla coming out I thought it was only fitting if I add Eivor to my list! Enjoy everyone, let me know if there’s anything you want me to write next!- 

TW: mentions of blood 

The sun was drifting close to the horizon as the day had finally come close to its end and Eivor was still searching through Grantebridge. As most of the merchants were packing up for the night and preparing to return to their families Eivor was jogging from stall to stall, looking up and down for any sight of the girl he was supposed to be watching but there was absolutely no sight of her. After the last merchant had closed up shop for the night he sighed and rubbed his sore neck wishing the gods would stop wasting time and take him already. Making his way back to his horse he pondered where she could have gone, searching the recesses of his mind for any clues. She said that she needed supplies and obviously that’s why Eivor came to the market but he had been looking for her for some time now and if she was getting supplies here then someone would have at least seen her. His steed nibbled on his sleeve slightly and Eivor put a hand on the horse's broad neck, patting him gently and sighing once more. 

“Why do I always get put in charge of people hm?” He leaned his head against his horse’s neck and received a huff in response. 

Eivor stopped to think, if one was going to collect supplies but wasn’t doing it at a market then where would they go? His first thought was to raiding but there’s no way that this Saxon girl was storming a monastery anytime soon, although he would have paid good money to see her try. Eivor then, shaking the comical idea from his mind, realized at once where she went although he was not too excited to go and look for her. He mounted his horse and spurred him down the road and off towards the woods nearby, whipping past trees and fields as they went. As the sun began to droop lower into the sky the world faded into twilight. The warm orange of sunset was melting lower past the horizon and was being replaced with purples and blues, all swirling in the clouds as the last few rays of light sliced through the sky. Specks of starlight were poking through the sky as Eivor raced to the forest, the tree tops being doused in an inky black darkness as the sun began to set. It was dangerous out in the woods at night, especially for a girl who had brought nothing but a basket and a small hatchet with her. As far as Eivor was concerned, she was easy prey for anything out there whether it be man or beast, and he certainly did not want to see her harmed by either. 

He slowed his horse from a strong gallop and listened closely to the silent and thick air of the woods. As he rode further the trees began to grow tighter, the roots rose out of the ground threatening to trip his horse. Branches scratched at his cheeks and caught his tunic forcing him to halt his horse and dismount, sending his steed off back the way they came. 

“Don’t worry boy, I’ll be back soon.” he patted his horse fondly and turned to face the expanse of growing darkness in front of him. 

He pulled out a torch and kneeled down to light it, striking over it with a shard of flint and sending little sparks flying from between the rocks. The sparks caught and a flame slowly grew over the torch, consuming the alcohol soaked cloth at the end and roaring forth in a bright flame that illuminated the path ahead with an orange glow. Eivor trekked forward, stopping once in a while to listen to the shaking of the leaves and the rustle of small creatures until a sound forced him still. It was clear, bright, it sliced through the night like a razor and it brought a cold sweat to Eivor’s brow. Wolves. The howl was loud, but not too close, and there was only one which so far was a good sign but he worried about the rest that would soon be following. He sped up his pace while trying to be as silent as possible. Step after step he calculated his way forward, heading towards where the sound of the howl came from. Soon he emerged in an oblong clearing with a rock protruding out of the ground, jutting up against a slight cliff of more jagged rock. 

“Get away you beast!” A tired but spirited voice cracked from the rock. 

Eivor looked forward and felt his heart lighten slightly at the sight of the girl he had been looking for. She was standing on the rock with her back against the cliff frantically waving a piece of firewood in the face of the snarling creature in front of her. The wolf’s hair stood straight up and it’s growl permeated the air in a low hanging rumble. Eivor felt his chest tighten again at the sound and he tried to reach for his axe. His hand froze, fingers close to the handle but refusing to move. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears and his neck, sweat continued to develop on his forehead and he could do nothing but stare and shake. His breath and his entire form was telling him to just turn around and run for it, but as he watched her swat at the animal with nothing but a mere twig in hand Eivor found himself going against his body's wishes. With a breath to collect himself and a quick prayer to Odin he ran forward and before the wolf could turn around he plunged his hidden blade between the animal's ribs and felt as the breath escaped its mouth and its muscles finally relaxed. The animal slumped to the ground in a heap of grey fur, blood dripping out of a single clean cut. 

“Eivor! You found me!” The girl chimed, looking incredibly relieved. 

“Luckily, or you would have become a feast. What were you doing out here?” He replied, nudging the wolf carcass with his foot as he raised an eyebrow towards her trying to seem as natural as possible. 

“Like I told you I was getting supplies.” She raised her nose slightly at him. 

“The market was open, why didn’t you just go there?” He asked as he looked at the tree line, wary of any yellow eyes staring back at him. . 

“Because…” She looked down at her collection of firewood, “Because I didn’t like the type of wood they had at the market…” 

Eivor smirked and crossed his arms, knowing full well that was a lie. He was starting to feel much more comfortable now with her here, it was incredible how she could stare down the snout of a beast and still be trying to fool him. He waited for her response. 

“... OK! Ok, I forgot all of my silver and I didn’t want to bug you for anything so I thought I could go to the woods and get supplies myself and meet you back at the market before you even noticed… but I got a little bit lost… and then I got cornered…” She looked up at him slightly and cracked a small pitiful smile in appeasement and Eivor simply smirked in return. 

“Well, you’re very lucky that I found you but you can’t run off like that again, there was only one wolf this time but what happens when it’s the whole pack?” He looked back down at the dead wolf and felt a shiver go up his spine. 

“I will scream for help louder next time then,” She smiled brightly at Eivor and he could feel the shiver be replaced with warmth. 

“Ok well, we need to get out of here before we run into the rest of them, one wolf of this size is formidable enough but a whole pack is something I’d rather not deal with.” He leaned over and grabbed her basket and offered her a hand down from the rock. She smiled and took it, climbing down and taking her basket from him. He kept an eye out on the tree line as he pretended not to notice her holding onto his arm and they started to walk back towards the forest path together. 

“You had a hatchet with you, yes?” Eivor said, still listening to his surroundings. 

“Oh! Yes! I almost forgot about it!” She replied, holding onto him a little tighter as the trees closed in around them. “I wonder where I left it…” 

“You should be more careful, coming out here all by yourself without a real weapon is a death sentence.” His gruff voice delivered the slight sting of being reprimanded but also showed a deep care and concern which made her heart positively melt with every word. 

“I know… it’s just you were busy and I didn’t really feel like dragging you out of your important meeting with Soma.” She said as she brushed aside a stray branch. 

“I would have followed you out here regardless.” He said ducking slightly under a limb. 

He could tell that she was getting a little tense and she tightened her hold on his arm, “I disagree, whatever she had to say was much more important than following a smith to the woods.” 

Eivor shot her a side glance and narrowed his eyebrows and just as he was going to press further into what she meant he stopped. He lowered himself to the ground and pulled her close, putting a hand over her mouth softly and looking around. He could hear something. A crack of twigs and a rustle of leaves from his left and a brush of the ground from his right but at this point the night had advanced so much it was almost pitch black and he had left his torch back at the clearing. He stopped and waited, breathing slowly and trying to calm himself down. The girl in his arms shook slightly, either from the cold or from fear he didn’t know. Tightening his grip around her he removed his hand from her mouth and started to reach for his axe, slowly, this time his hands were quick to obey as he grasped the handle and pulled it out. He looked down at her and nodded slowly, hoping she understood the signal. Slowly, he started to rise, careful to balance his weight exactly where it had been as to not make any sounds. In one second he pushed the girl out of his arms and turned to his right, racing forward to sink his axe into the neck of a wolf ready to pounce. The girl tripped but gathered herself and sprinted forward, racing through the trees, ducking and pushing her way out of the woods as Eivor was left face to face with his worst fear. Before him stood a huge, black furred wolf with gleaming yellow eyes and an array of yellow fangs dripping with spit. The wolf twitched and lowered its head, growling and snarling as it’s massive paws depressed into the ground. Eivor could feel fear seep in, his heart was racing and his limbs shaking and disobeying. Wide eyed he stared at the creature in front of him as he shrank slowly, feeling once more like a child on a frozen lake. He knew what those teeth would feel like ripping into his skin, he’s felt it before. He knew what those claws could do, the pain they were designed to bring. Eivor felt himself shrink into a child, small and helpless, his years of warring and raiding melted away, his muscles evaporated as he felt himself become weak and small. The wolf stepped closer, the rumble of it’s growl growing. 

“EIVOR!” A voice screamed from somewhere in the distance but the fog surrounding Eivors mind was too thick, he scarcely even recognized his own name. “EIVOR!!” Once again there it was, Eivor twitched and turned slightly but he was too afraid to take his attention off the animal in front of him. 

“EIVOR YOU BLOCK HEAD- DUCK!” The voice screamed at him and finally he recognized it, his body snapped into motion as he fell to the forest floor as metal whipped overhead. 

The wolf exclaimed a high yip and fell to the ground in a slump of fur and teeth, twitching as life drained from it. Eivor dared not to look up, he wasn’t sure what had happened but he was too afraid even still to move. That duck had been the last push of his might. 

“Eivor! Are you alright!?” The voice spoke, the girl he was supposed to be watching swooped down and grabbed his shoulders. 

She could feel him shake through his many layers and pulled him close, “Eivor are you hurt?” She asked, concerned.

He could feel some sense returning to him as he melted in her embrace, he wrapped his large arms around her and collapsed into her lap, breathing frantically and heavily. She wasn’t sure what to do, she had never seen a man this formidable this scared before. She gently stroked his hair as he shook the fear out of his body and tried to force his breath back to normal. 

“Everything is going to be ok Eivor, he’s dead.” Her soft voice drifted into his ears and he tried so hard to be normal again but he continued to tremble. “Look,” She brought his face up from her lap and gestured to the dead wolf in front of him. “See?” 

Eivors stomach lurched slightly but reason took over as he saw the hatchet sticking out of the wolf's forehead, blood staining the blade slightly. 

“I see you… found your hatchet” He nervously laughed as he sat himself up and took a handful of deep breaths. 

She stared at him slightly, running a hand through his hair once more and smiling at him gently. “He can keep it,” She joked. “Come on, we need to get out of these woods.” 

The two found themselves back in Grantebridge, weary, a little bloody, and ready to collapse. Soma had arranged a room for them in the longhouse and neither of them had the energy to oppose. They walked into the longhouse, warmth circling them from the large hearth in the center, they could hear slight bouts of chatter as they walked towards their room but they didn’t have the energy nor the care to listen. Eivor watched as she walked in the room first, she took a look around and her eyes landed on the bed. 

“Don’t worry I can sleep on the floor,” Eivor spoke up, breaking their comfortable silence. 

“Oh… Yes… I suppose…” She started to flush at the cheeks as the Dane started to take off his cloak and unsling his weapons. 

Quickly she turned around and stared at the large bed before her. There were furs of all kinds draped over the bed and many pillows, it looked terribly inviting but incredibly lonely as well. She knew however, the consequences of a Saxon woman letting a Dane sleep in her bed, as unfortunate as it was she couldn’t get herself in an uncomfortable position that would damage either her, or her fathers reputation. She looked back slightly at Eivor, he was down to his tunic now. He looked different without all those layers and weapons on, this way he looked so much softer. She stared for a little too long and turned back around, looking down at her dirty and tattered frock. She knew she couldn’t sleep in this but she also didn’t think undressing in front of a Dane was any better than sleeping in the same bed as him. 

Eivor folded his cloak and placed it on the ground next to the bear skin that would stand as his bed tonight. As he looked back up he noticed a lingering glance from the girl before him. A blush on her cheeks as she quickly turned the other way. “Sorry… Would you like me to sleep outside?’ He asked. 

“No! No.. I mean, of course not! I’m just… I’ve never…” She looked down at her hands and she fiddled with her frock, picking some dried mud off of it. “Um, well I’m going to put the candles out um… thank you for saving my life!” She hurried to the candles and hushed them out, darkness overtook the room and Eivor stood staring. 

He shrugged it off and lowered himself down onto the bearskin rug, he could hear the brief thump of her clothes hitting the floor and he forced himself away from any impure thoughts. He could feel his weariness start to take over him but every time he closed his eyes he saw the same thing. Those gnashing teeth, the curled snout, eyes of amber staring straight into his very soul. Every time he tried to relax his muscles he could feel those teeth in his neck and those claws ripping down his back. 

“Eivor…” A soft voice forced his attention. 

“Yes?” he replied, he could hear the sleep on her voice. 

“Could you…. If you wanted to…. Um…. come up here...please,” she stuttered. 

It caught the Dane off guard at first. He sat up slowly and turned to look through the darkness. “Are you sure?” he asked. 

“Um well, if you don’t want to I-” 

‘No, I want to.” He smiled slightly and stood up slowly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” 

“Well you just standing there staring at me is making me uncomfortable.” 

He laughed and smiled, walking towards the bed and placing his hand down on the furs. “Well in that case I’ll just keep my eyes closed.” 

He lowered himself down into the bed, careful to keep a respectful distance. 

“You could… come closer.” She said softly. 

Eivor moved slightly, “Is that better?” 

“A…. a little bit closer.” 

Once more he moved, he could feel the warmth of her body radiating at this distance, it was almost intoxicating. “Better?” 

“Just.. a little closer.” 

Eivor moved closer, he could feel her body against his and he could feel his face erupt in warmth. “Better?”

“Much… thank you.” She leaned back into him and sighed with content.

He wrapped his large arm over her waist and with a little tug pulled her flush against him. She smiled and prayed that this would never end. 

“Thank you for saving me….” Eivors low voice said softly. 

“I should be the one saying that.” She laughed and he could feel it through her back. 

They melted into each other's arms and he closed his eyes, in peace this time and just as sleep was starting to overtake him. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” She said, breaking him out of his slumber. 

“Hm? What?” 

“That Eivor Wolf-kissed isn’t made out of metal” She giggled and turned slightly to face him. 

He felt his heart quicken at the sudden closeness of their faces. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“ Fear makes us human Eivor.” She smiled sweetly and looked into his eyes.

She leaned forward slowly and lingered just in front of his lips for a moment before leaning further and closing the gap between them. They kissed, softly, as if pushing too hard would cause the other to disappear. When they separated giggles and chuckles filled the room. They met once more before both of them felt the sweet sensation of sleep wash over them.

[thepaperpanda]

🐼 Hiya! We are excited to announce our first-ever Kinktober event!  As this is our first time doing an event like this, please be gentle with us ♡ 

Essential information:

♡ the following post will serve as the information leaflet for this event. Masterlist will be updated with the links upon posting

♡ all works will be 🔞 

♡ our event-specific tag will be applied to all works: #paperpanda kinktober

♡ please keep in mind that all works range between 500 and 4k words, with little to no particular plot. The majority of our readers are female, but there are a few exceptions

♡ following the cut you'll find the full list of prompts and pairings we have selected for our Kinktober. We would like to point out that the order on the list does not reflect the order of posting

♡ reblog to help spread the word!

♡ Blow Jobs - Duncan Idaho x fem!reader x Gourney Halleck [Dune] ♡ Undressing - Sherlock x fem!reader [BBC Sherlock] ♡ Oral Sex - Rooster x fem!reader [Top Gun Maverick]     ♡ Lingerie - Leto Atreides x fem!reader [Dune] ♡ Morning Sex - Aizawa Shota x fem!reader [My Hero Academia] ♡ Masturbation - Steven Grant x fem!reader [Moon Knight] ♡ Bath Sex - Wanda Maximoff x m!reader [Marvel]  ♡ Breeding Kink - Zhongli x fem!reader [Genshin Impact] ♡ Drunk Sex - Leto Atreides x fem!reader [Dune] ♡ Table Sex - Jonathan Levy x fem!reader [Scenes from a marriage] ♡ Biting - Tighnari x fem!reader [Genshin Impact] ♡ Finger Fucking - Tangerine x fem!reader [Bullet Train] ♡ Sexting - Layla El-Faouly x m!reader [Moon Knight] ♡ Demon Sex - Demon!Rengoku x fem!reader [Demon Slayer] ♡ Rough Sex - Bucky Barnes x fem!reader [The Falcon and the Winter Soldier] ♡ Torture - Ivar x fem!reader [Vikings] ♡ Size Kink - Keigo Takami x fem!reader [My Hero Academia] ♡ Spanking - Hangman x fem!reader [Top Gun Maverick] ♡ Threesome - Khonshu x fem!reader x Jake Lockley [Moon Knight] ♡ Knotting - Demon!Rengoku x fem!reader [Demon Slayer] ♡ 69 - Massimo Torricelli x fem!reader [365 days]   ♡ Dirty Talk - male!Eivor x fem!reader [Assassin’s Creed Valhalla] ♡ Creampie - Sam Drake x fem!reader [Uncharted 4] ♡ Praise Kink - Jake Lockley x fem!reader [Moon Knight] ♡ Wall Sex - Santiago Garcia x fem!reader [Triple Frontier] ♡ Love Triangles - Diluc Ragnvindr x fem!reader x Kaeya Alberich [Genshin Impact] ♡ Hair Pulling - Khonshu x fem!reader [Moon Knight] ♡ Angry Sex - Poe Dameron x fem!reader [Star Wars] ♡ Somnophilia - Arataki Itto - fem!reader [Genshin Impact] ♡ Nipple Play - Marc Spector x fem!reader [Moon Knight] ♡ Quiet Sex - Tommy Shelby x fem!reader [Peaky Blinders]

[itseivwhore]

I.......................

And,not to be and act like a needy thirsty bitch but I AM SO SORRY BUT:

😏😏😏 He just ran out of stamina

[flesh-fictions]

FLESH FICTIONS

FLESH FICTIONS ⇸ a male & masc reader dedicated blog. ! ⌇

RULES, FANDOMS & MORE UNDER THE CUT.

✧ BEEZLEBUB! he/they, eighteen. feel free to call me bee, bub, whatever you'd like. i really don't have a preference. i mainly made this blog to post a marauders fic i'm writing but i decided to take some one shot requests, too. anywhoozies.

RULES ⇸ we gotta have them ! ⌇

01. make your request detailed, at least enough for me to write smth with it. don't just send me, 'character name x male reader', try nd put some thought into it, please. ︵ ☆ !

02. when requesting nsfw, please specify whether or not you'd like the reader to be top or bottom, and whether or not you'd like them cis or trans. if you don't, i will automatically make them bottom cismale. ︵ ☆ !

03. i won't do yandere themes, kidnapping, dubcon, forced feminization or anything like that. i will write cross dressing and breeding kinks fine but i won't write one guy calling another guy 'princess' or 'baby girl'. as a trans dude it makes my dysphoria go insane. ︵ ☆ !

04. please dni if you're a minor or fem aligned, or use she/her pronouns in any way. this blog is for male & masc readers, you guys have plenty of other blogs everywhere else. i'll probably block you if you interact and i see she/her somewhere on ur page. ︵ ☆ !

05. okay UH, i think that's like, all the important stuff covered. ig if u request jus be nice, say please and thank you and we'll be good :] ︵ ☆ !

FANDOMS ⇸ bolded are my preferred ones ! ⌇

harry potter - golden trio era, marauders era, riddle era.

cyberpunk 2077.

dragon age - origins, two, inquisition.

fallout - new vegas, four.

stardew valley.

assassin's creed - valhalla only, atm :[

detroit become human.

our life: beginnings and always.

marvel - movies, loki, the punisher, daredevil, moon knight, wandavision.

squid game.

vikings.

tales of aracadia - trollhunters, 3below, wizards, rise of the titans.

disastrous life of saiki k.

one punch man.

attack on titan.

black butler - all seasons, ova, and the movie.

ajin: demi human.

bna: brand new animal.

assassination classroom.

monster high.

ever after high.

choice of games / hosted games - depends, i've played so many

i'll play most characters in these fandoms and i'll more than likely accept any request i get as long as it's not creepy or goes against what i write :] so feel free to request anything loves <3

[camdentown-library]

You hurt me first || male!Eivor x fem!Reader

(GIF by eivorella )

𝕺𝖍, 𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖋, 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖎𝖙 𝖇𝖊?

Summary: You are a Hidden-One and Eivor is your travel companion. Things will change when Eivor forgets one of your important expeditions to spend a whole day with Randvi. What will happen? Requested? ANON: I love love LOVE your writing  😭 and I have a request that I hope you would accept 🥺 could you write a jealous reader x eivor awwww I love that kind of stuff about randvi’s crush on eivor and a cute confession at the end. 😚 Genre: Fluff, a bit angst (only 20%) Words: 2048

NOTE: siktir et = Fuck in turkish

"Eivor" your voice called the attention of the Viking who was returning to Ravensthorpe on a horse "But where have you been?" you asked impatiently putting your hands on your hips. You had been looking for him all day, today you would have had to leave for the porssimo kingdom to conquer, important peace negotiations were underway and he needed an alliance as much as you to find the rest of the order of the ancients. The blond friend with an agile leap jumped off his steed and only then did you notice that Randvi was with him, riding another horse. As your eyes met your stomach felt a sharp pang, as if your own hidden blade had pierced your organ, while a bitter aftertaste formed at the end of your tongue. "Y/N!" Eivor said in a joyful tone, awakening you from your hostile thoughts "Were you looking for me perhaps?" the hands on your hips tightened in a tenacious grip for the nervous. "Maybe I was looking for you?!" you asked with an ironic tone "siktir et Eivor, have you forgotten what we were supposed to do today?" you asked visibly annoyed, while your Viking friend (probably from the alcohol still running lightly in his veins) looked at you puzzled as he tilted his head to one side. You stared up in shock, was he really so overwhelmed by Randvi and his stupid crush that he forgot why they were there in Ravensthorpe?! "Oxenfordscire?! Your brother Sigurd?! We were supposed to leave this morning and I've been looking for you all day!" you said angry, while Eivor remained silent not knowing what to repeat "Your brother and my mentor had requested our presence, the negotiations seem to be more difficult than you thought, but apparently it is more important for you to go roaming around fields with Randvi!" your tone became more and more poisonous, and your anger and your jealousy took more and more possession of your body, leaving your calm and calculating Hidden-One mind on the corner "And tell me Eivor, did you drink together? fucked? Or maybe you did both, since you're back in the late afternoon" Randvi's gaze became dark with slight embarrassment, while getting off the horse she slowly walked towards the long house of Jarl Eivor on her side she seemed to have lost her patience, and as always she knew how to do, besides regaining consciousness of himself, he sharpened his sharpest weapon: his tongue and his words. "Stop being a child, Y/N! And above all do not disrespect Randvi, she is the Jarl's wife" replied the man approaching you, his tone was grim even though he tried to stay calm. "Jarl's wife? Seriously Eivor? Do you think ... Do you think I am blind or deaf by any chance?" you asked mimicking his words, while Eivor shook his head in disappointment. "I just took Randvi for a walk, you see she doesn't have the privilege like you of being able to roam far and wide, her duty is to stay locked up in that damn long house. I just let her breathe some air new and moreover..” Eivor took a few more steps towards you, but you did not retreat, as your faces left a few centimeters away “I have no obligation to inform you about my private life, you are not my Jarl , you are not my mother and you are not my wife” your eyes met for a moment, but nothing romantic passed through them, only disappointment and anger. Eivor had been clear with you, you were nobody to him, just a foreign girl who, together with her mentor and her partner, had entered the crow's clan. Pathetic, that's what you were, pathetic to have thought for just a moment that that rough, arrogant Viking cared about you. You took a deep breath, never looking down at those ocean-blue eyes and turning your back on Eivor you said in a cold tone: "I'm leaving now and alone" you said as you mounted the nearest horse. "Wait, the sun has almost gone down now, it's not safe to venture out" said the groom, emerging from the horse stable. "I've ridden alone for years in the desert and in far more hostile places than a couple of green hills" you said seriously and arrogantly, and then cast one last look at Eivor, who looked you in the eye almost...sorry. No! Nonsense...It was obvious he was anything but that or he wouldn't have said those heartless words to you. I beckoned to the horse to leave, and the horse pawing enthusiastically set off at a gallop towards the Oxenfordscire.

* * *

Night had fallen over the moors and forests of distant, cold England. You had camped near a river with your horse, while next to you there was a small fire lit in the hope of keeping you warm. You swore in your mother tongue that you were so reckless...you could at least have taken some fur or something to eat, and instead you were there, cold, alone and with nothing to eat. You looked out over the river, letting the water mirror the image of your face. Look at you, anything but feminine, foreign and definitely not Viking. What did you think was springing up in Eivor's heart? The burning fuse of love? The truth is that you were a fish out of water and neither you, nor Hytham, nor Basim would ever have been part of that extended family. A tear full of frustration, furrowed your face contracted in a grimace that tried in every way to suppress the desperate need to cry and in the impetus you chased a menacing growl by throwing a slap at that river, thus breaking your reflection. A strange rustle in the bushes caught your attention, making you whirl towards that threatening noise. Something was hiding in the dense bush! Slowly you let your hidden blade slip away from your wrist, approaching with extreme silence towards the source of your threat, and as soon as you noticed a dark shape hiding behind the trunk of a tree, you slid as quickly as a splinter, pushing the intruder to the ground . You overtook him immediately, sitting astride his chest and blocking his mighty arms with your legs, while the tip of your blade dangerously caressed his throat. "Give me a good reason not to kill you intruder or you will not see your precious Valhalla" you said threateningly, trying to see his identity in the dim light. "Well if you do, you'll have to explain to Sigurd the reason for his brother's demise" that voice ... Eivor? "You..." "Yeah ..." "YOU HAVE FOLLOWED ME" you said indignantly. "How could I have left you alone?" Eivor asked him indignantly this time. "Yes, sure, right ... spare your bullshit when you explain to Sigurd your delay in Oxenfordscire" you answered bitterly, shaking your head. Eivor was silent for a few moments, perhaps admitting defeat in that speech, and then cleared his throat. "As much as I'm finding, here ... very exciting having a woman straddling my chest, could you take your blade off my throat?" your face flushed with embarrassment and anger and after snorting annoyed you said: "I would really want to pierce your dick with this one, at least so you won't be fooled with that instead of your head" You got up nimbly from him, trying to ignore his amused laugh, how could he behave like this after your argument? Ugh...that man was absurd...

You both leaned back around the small fire you made while Eivor rummaged in his big bag. You tried hard not to stare and ignore it, but when you recognized the smell of dried meat, your throat twisted with hunger. "Have you eaten? I brought some food from Ravensthorpe" Eivor explained, as he brought two succulent strips of dried meat to you, but you shook your head. "I'm not hungry" but he didn't seem to believe it, in fact he raised an eyebrow along with the corner of his mouth. "As you want, then I'll eat it all" he said marking the last words...what a bastard, was he psychologically torturing you?! A cold gust of wind, however, shook you abruptly from your thoughts, making you shiver noisily...damn, what would you pay for a fur coat to cover you with, that cold was so different from the hot nights of Constantinople. Something heavy wrapped around our shoulders, and blinking in perplexity, you turned to Eivor, who had moved to your side, covering you too with his fur cloak. "I don't need you, stop it" you said arrogantly as he rolled his eyes. "Listen, I'm just trying to get you all to your destination, difficult days ahead and I need you and all your strength" the wheat-haired Viking explained seriously. "You wouldn't think you cared today" "Wha-? Listen Y/N ... I don't know what got into you today but I didn't want things to be like this" "Didn't you want? Eivor, you literally told me that my opinion doesn't count for you" the man bit his tongue at the thought of what he had said and shaking his head said: "I can prove to you it's not like that" "Go on" "Today, when Randvi and I were walking, she kissed me" you opened your eyes wide in shock, as you felt for the second time your heart crack into a thousand pieces "But! I rejected her...And not because she was the wife about my brother...as I initially thought. When I saw you go off on horseback, alone, the very thought of not being able to protect you made me feel like I was lost in the cold lands of Hel” he explained, it seemed really to be honest "And when I finally saw you camped here I was able to breathe again knowing that you were not in danger..." "This is not love, it's just a sense of guilt Eivor” you tried to reject it, still burned by your own jealousy. "No, no it's not guilt! I...I want you Y/N, I feel it when you climbed on me to attack me, I feel it now that we are close to warm up, I...for Odin sake I cannot be without you I'm sorry things had to go like this” he said, looking you in the eye. His expression seemed sincere, all of a sudden it no longer seemed I had a fierce and arrogant Viking beside me, but ... a wolf cub, a tender puppy, who just wanted to have his love reciprocated by him. Now it was your heart that was filled with guilt. "In truth...it is not because of the missed mission that I have taken it out on you, Eivor...seeing you with Randvi, has me-ugh what a shame in saying these things... I felt abandoned, I felt cornered, I felt I was worth nothing to you and I could touch the feeling that she was taking you away from me-” your speech was interrupted by the hand of the Viking who fleetingly grabbed your chin making it turn towards him, so as to be able to join your lips in a chaste first impact kiss, but which then poured out all your need to be united, to be able to touch you, to be able to merge your souls into one League.

"I'm here, forever Y/N" Eivor whispered as his mouth brushed yours "but only if you stop being an angry child and promise me you'll eat something, mh?" he said with a playful little smile, getting a light slap on the cheek from you. "Otherwise? Are you abandoning me?" you asked ironically, raising an eyebrow. "I know methods of torture that you cannot imagine, to make you smile with force" he said, returning the ironic tone, while his calloused hands caressed your soft hips. "I thought you were leaving these things to the Ragnarsson, Wolfkissed" you pretended to be surprised, as he pressed his lips to your ear and kissed the earlobe, while his frizzy beard tickled your sensitive skin, giving you a few snorts of laughter. "You don't know my evil side then" he replied with a chuckle and playfully biting your jaw.

[lisinfleur]

Edelweiss

Author’s Notes | I hope you like, babe! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Björn x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, Fantasy AU, ABO Dynamics, Omega! Reader, Alpha! Björn, Young! Björn, requested by @curvynerdfan Words | 979 ⁑ Warnings: None

It wasn't his first fertility festival, but it was the first time he would effectively participate in the celebrations. And during the last year, he had been choosing among the girls, that one that would be his target for the rituals.

This festival was important for the pack. Many new pups and litters were produced at these celebrations and usually, couples formed in these rituals were almost always the ones that would last longer. So, Björn followed his father's advice pretty closely and spent the whole year trying to get closer to the girl that caught his eyes and stole his heart.

Sweet omega, gentle, shy, tender, and beautiful. Björn's heart had chosen you.

It wasn't an easy match for him - as one of the sweetest omegas of your generation, you caught the heart of many other males and he even saw himself having to show dominance over his own brothers to stick his claim: Sigurd was too young for the celebrations, but Ubbe dared to raise his growls and the two of them almost fought for the idea of courting you.

But his younger brother was only rutting and he knew that.

For Björn, you were more than just heat.

But your innocence didn't allow you to notice what he wanted or why the boys were strangely disappearing from your side...

He was pushing all the concurrence away and, in the last months before the festivals, Björn started trying to approach, surprising you that the future alpha of your pack wanted to spend his time speaking to you while you were gathering flowers for crowns and decorations of the feast.

Or help you by holding your waist and lifting you up to make you taller, so you could reach the highest places to put the decorations.

Or carry your baskets and escort you home while speaking about anything important like your day or how many days were left to the festivals to begin.

While the great majority of the males was training around, playing games, or just wandering around, there was Björn, helping you out with tasks that should belong to the women of the pack at the preparations of the festival or simply walking around with you, even when you couldn't understand why he would want to make company to someone so out of the royalty like you.

Maybe he was just bored of his constant life and seeking for something different... Many excuses passed through your mind, but none of them could explain the crown of beautiful flowers he placed in your head when the celebrations began.

You saw him coming with that beautiful handmade gift he would surely give to the girl he wanted to take to the rituals with him.

It was the tradition: the male would choose a girl. The alphas could signalize their claims with flower crowns. Then, the betas would choose among the ones not claimed by the flower crowns.

Then... Why was he placing his crown in your head?

"It... It fits well," you mumbled, taking the crown from your head gently, thinking maybe he was just testing to see if his handmade crown could fit properly in a female's head.

But his face twisted in a curious expression when you took the flower crown off.

"Don't you wanna come with me to the rituals, Y/N?" he asked, completely shocking you with that information.

Was he really... Inviting you?

"M... Me? B-but I'm... I don't understand, I..." you gagged, stumbling on the words, violently blushing when he came closer, touching your burning-red cheeks with a softly caress.

"What is it that you don't understand?" Björn asked with a smile, replacing the crown on its place over your head. "I chose you... I want you to come with me to the rituals of this year. Because I want you to be mine."

This time, he said it with all the letters, and flowers. Violet, blue, pink and white flowers beautifully braided on the crown in your head.

Your fingers softly touched the delicate piece, caressing it.

And Björn smiled.

"Will you come with me?" he asked, just to see you smiling.

"Yes..." you muttered, utterly red once again, almost completing the tones of his gift with the color of your cheeks. "I accept you, alpha. I'll go with you, Björn."

His smile became bigger and he stepped forward, coming close enough to cup your face, lowering his face to whisper in your ear.

"You won't regret it, omega..."

His nose nuzzled to yours and he brushed his lips against yours.

"You won't regret it, love," he said, before softly laying his lips over ours, softly taking your first kiss and tasting your mouth for the first time.

You took some seconds to realize he was really kissing you. But his pace was slow, patient.

Soon, you wrapped your arms tenderly around his neck and he brought you closer, deepening the sweet kiss the two of you exchanged until the need for oxygen forced him to part his lips from yours.

You nestled into his arms. His scent slowly impregnating your clothes, marking you in a way you liked to feel.

The two of you spent a long time together, just feeling each other, marking each other's bodies with your scents mixing together in a whole new smell.

To enter the pack for the celebrations with your hand holding his was something you never imagined: surprisingly, many males seemed to be very annoyed with Björn's claim over you. So, as some female of your age seemed to be very angry and envious of your position.

But Björn took you with him to his place at the feast table and the whole world seemed to disappear when he smiled at you. He was proud and happy with his choice and your acceptance. And you knew into his arms, everything would be alright.

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[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 16

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Seven years have passed since (Y/N) and the crew arrived to Constantinople. They've settled in since then, but life has not been easy for them.

CW/TW: Violence, war, religion bashing, vikings being vikings, period era situationships lmao, angst?, hurt emotionally and physically but barely any comfort, red flags? dont know her, (y/n) im begging you there's better fish in the sea

If you're new here and wondering where this came from, you can check out part one here and the masterlist here!

~~~

Seven years had passed since Emperor Romanos offered his sincere gratitude for ensuring the safe passage of his new wife, Eleana who they now were to call Empress Zoe. His gratitude reared its head through riches, rewards, and a place amongst his people, as well as a place amongst his army of men trained to kill and conquer the land of the empire's enemies. Constantinople was home now, even if temporarily.

They'd all settled in, although it'd taken time to grow accustomed to the vastly different culture and language. It'd been a difficult feat for (Y/N), his longing for his real home never dissipating amidst the heat and flourishing city. He missed his settlement in Greenland, his old friends, dearly missed his beloved mother who'd no doubt presumed him dead when he and his siblings hadn't returned home from their voyage. He longed for the cold and snow, the sound of the wind howling at night. 

Leif and Harald, ever the adaptable ones, slotted in perfectly with their surroundings.

Harald climbed the ranks with ease, finding himself a stranger no more to Emperor Romanos as his personal bodyguard and newfound general of his own army: the Varangians, an army full of Vikings and mercenaries in need of a home and money. It'd been expected from a Viking prince to slither his way up and coil around such an important role. He ensured the crew joined his army, and took part in the fighting and rewards. But it was never enough for Harald, no matter how many riches he acquired through the years. Nothing was ever enough for him.

Leif took to Mariam's old home and called it his own, his newfound thirst for knowledge only growing after he read through all her books and eventually began seeking it out in places called 'libraries'; rooms of knowledge, he explained. Each time they traveled to fight another war for Emperor Romanos, he sought out the writings and maps of those places, learning new information from ancient and modern times. The sciences of the world around them enthralled him, captivated him into an obsession. (Y/N) preferred it, though. He preferred his brother's eagerness over watching Leif lose himself in grief again. 

As much as (Y/N) found himself feeling out of place, fighting for the Byzantine Empire and calling Constantinople had given him much to do; and provided him with chances to see places he never would've dreamt of seeing. Such as the place they'd traveled to now, to defeat the Saracens at the urging of General Maniakes in Sicily. They'd been fighting for six months in what felt like an endless siege, and Emperor Romanos had begun growing antsy. 

(Y/N) squinted through the darkness as he walked through the tunnels they'd been digging for the past few weeks, a lantern tightly gripped in one hand and held before him. His eyes slowly grew accustomed to the darkness around him, allowing him to better see the crevices in the dirt walls around him. Short wooden beams and planks held the dirt in place, preventing it from crumpling and trapping those within. All a part of Leif's plan, as always. 

"How are we doing, Kaysan?" (Y/N) called out once the man came into view, flashing him a smile and being rewarded with a large one in return. Kaysan chuckled and wiped his hands along his pants, the subtle stink of sulfur lingering in the air around them. Foul-smelling enough to bring tears to one's eyes, but Leif insisted it was needed for his plan to work. 

"Your brother is working on the last of the sulfur we need. He says once it is ready, we can set the plan in motion." Kaysan answered, taking a step back to admire the combined work of the last couple weeks. Bundles of sulfur had been pushed into holes expanding across the wall of dirt, ready to be lit by a flame that'd bring down the tunnel and subsequently the wall of the fortress just mere feet above them. "I must admit I had little faith in his plan at first. But seeing what this powder can do when a flame is close to it..." Kaysan shook his head lightly, a twinkle of admiration in his dark eyes. 

"It is hard to match up to such a creative thinker as Leif." (Y/N) chuckled, his steps slow as he walked along the wall and took in the wall before him. He'd always known his brother had been destined for great things, whether on land or sea. Leif had inherited the best parts of his parents. No longer the savage son of Erik the Red. No, that title had fallen on (Y/N)'s shoulders, and he accepted it. 

"Come now," Kaysan gave his shoulder a small playful push. "You hardly need to match up to him, (Y/N). You're a smart man, and a loyal one at that; and, from what I've heard, you're quite charismatic when you wish to be."

"Have you been gossiping with the others, Kay?" (Y/N) questioned with a teasing grin, casting a glance at the man over his shoulder. It hardly counted as gossip, he supposed. Things with Harald never lasted long, whether he pulled away first or Harald did, but they always returned to each other in a desperate clash. It was vexing and tiresome, and he'd made up his mind a long time ago to put his foot down when it came to the charming prince. 

Kaysan gave a light shrug. "It surprised us, is all." 

The thumping of footsteps, soft panting, and clinking of lanterns swaying filled the tunnel, and (Y/N) had heard the panting noise enough times to recognize who it belonged to. He made brief eye contact with Kaysan and turned, raising his lantern high and smiling at the sight of his brother, although it faltered slightly when Harald appeared behind him. 

"Keeping an eye on things?" Leif asked, his hand rubbing affectionately into (Y/N)'s shoulder when he passed him by. The two Vikings carried sacks slung over their shoulder, no doubt the last of the sulfur they needed to ensure the wall would completely collapse and allow them within. (Y/N) gave a silent nod, feeling Harald's eyes burning into the side of his skull.

"Future King of Norway," Kaysan greeted teasingly, patting Harald's arm and taking the sack from Harald so he could insert the last of it into the dirt walls around them. Harald chuckled breathlessly in return, tearing his eyes away from (Y/N) to study the dirt room. (Y/N) allowed himself to watch him, taking in the grime and blood covering his exposed biceps and face. He'd ridden off to battle once more, no doubt a failure as all the battles before. 

"As soon as we take this castle," Harald murmured, his hands coming to rest at his hips. (Y/N) swallowed, his gaze sliding away from the beautiful prince as bitterness settled in his stomach. Despite the years that'd passed, Harald's mind never changed on what he truly desired above all else: the throne of Norway, one occupied by the son of a man Harald once considered a close friend. 

"Is there really as much treasure inside as you say?" Kaysan asked, voice strained as he worked to shove the rolls of sulfur into the wall with Leif's help.

"Enough to fund all our dreams," Harald replied. 

(Y/N) hooked his lantern on one of the wooden posts and crouched down beside him, rolling up the dark blue sleeves of his tunic and revealing the ink along his right arm. The creature his mother would tell tales of back in his youth; a sea monster that resembled an octopus but grew to be as large as a warship named Kraken.

The head and body of the began around his bicep while the tentacles expanded and wrapped around his forearm, stopping around his wrist. He understood why so many others covered themselves with ink, whether writings or designs. The Kraken reminded him of his mother, of all the times he spent on a boat watching his brother and father hunt for narwhals and other sea beasts. 

Dipping his hand into the sack, he wrapped his fingers around one of the rolls and carefully lifted it before he pushed it into one of the holes in the wall. He rolled it side to side, scrapping and mushing dirt until the roll was securely in place. He mimicked the movements with a few more rolls, absentmindedly listening to the three men speak about the plan until he finished, his fingertips lightly dusted in the vibrant yellow powder. (Y/N) stood back up and turned, nearly barreling into Harald's chest plate. 

"Can we speak?" Harald asked softly, and (Y/N) felt his skin burn at the knowing glances cast in their direction from Kaysan and Leif. 

"We have little to speak about, Harald." (Y/N) told him, scooping his lantern back into his hand and making his way through the tunnel. Harald followed him because the man never took an answer he didn't want, and (Y/N) largely ignored him until they reached the entrance of the tunnel and stepped out into the blinding light of the late evening. 

"There's much to speak about, actually. Starting with the most important thing-"

"The throne?" (Y/N)'s features scrunched up, his spotty vision slowly adjusting to the daylight around them. He blinked a few times and his vision finally focused on the bustling camp around them. His gaze darted back to Harald's face, catching the grimace that passed over his features at his words before the general cleared his throat. 

"No, I do not... I don't wish to speak of the throne. I know how you feel about it. You know how I feel about it." Harald frowned, his lips nearly covered by his thick beard. He took the lanterns from his hands and hung them up by the entrance, a heavy sigh escaping him. "You've done well in Constantinople for many years. I've seen you flourish. You're not as guarded as you once were. If you can do well in a court like the Emperor's, you'd do even better in a Viking court amongst your own people." 

"Except it'd be your court with Christian jarls and Vikings who believe me worshipping a god that isn't theirs is a crime punishable by death. Your religion loves violently, Harald, as do its supporters. They'd condemn you for everything you've done with me." (Y/N) scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief and walking forward deeper into camp toward his tent. They'd had the conversation many times over the last few years, a neverending dance of push and pull trying to tire each other out into admitting defeat. But they were Vikings, and Vikings never gave up easily. 

(Y/N) stepped through the flaps of his tent and released a heavy sigh, his feet guiding him to the basin sat on the table filled with warm water. He dipped his hands inside, cleaning the dirt and sulfur off his fingers until the water turned murky. The tent flaps rustled with the arrival of someone else stepping into his tent and he peeked over his shoulders, half-expecting to see Harald but only seeing Dorn. She smiled at him, her hands and sleeves of her blue tunic steeped in dark red. He crinkled his nose. 

"Trust me," She sighed. "I know how it smells." 

"Come wash your hands, then." (Y/N) smiled, picking up a rag and drying his hands with it as she stepped up and eagerly rinsed her hands clean of pig's blood. Her eyes flickered up toward him a few times, her lips twisting and teeth digging lightly into them. He tilted his head at her and took a seat at the table, reaching out to pluck a grape from the bowl in the center. "What is it, Dorn?" 

"Batu and I were speaking the other day, and the topic of you and Harald came up." She began softly, thumb roughly rubbing into the skin of her palm until the streak of blood disappeared. Dorn raised her drenched hands toward her face, wiping off the grime and splatters of blood that'd collected on her skin. "I always wondered what went wrong between you both. When we meet... it seemed as if you two had much unspoken business. Then, during our trip to Constantinople, it all became clear. You were lovers, or former lovers, it was hard to tell at times but you... loved each other. We thought you had reconciled from whatever had occurred and yet..." 

"I've come to learn that love is complicated, and at most times it's the worst thing that can occur. Harald is... a lot of things, too many things, truly. If you are worried that the same will happen between you and Batu, I can certainly assure you that it will not. Batu loves you, Dorn. I can see that you love him. You're happy together, content. Neither of you desires more than what you have now. Harald does. He hungers for far too many things, and it will eventually be his ruin. I do not wish to be dragged along with him." 

"But you love each other?" Dorn questioned, wiping away droplets of water from her chin and drying her hands on her pants. (Y/N) plopped the grape into his mouth and bit into it, feeling the juices explode along his tongue as he mulled over her question. He loved Harald, he knew that well, but part of him resented him too. Most days, Harald made him wonder if he loved him, or merely lusted after him.

"It's complicated." He answered quietly, and Dorn winced, giving a meek nod and turning on her heel to leave the tent. He watched her depart, a mixture of emotions coiling around his heart and constricting it. (Y/N) released a shaky inhale and ran his hand over his face, forcing away the thoughts of Harald and their odd relationship to focus on preparing himself for a good night's rest and a long morning. 

Seven years had passed, but it barely changed either of them.

The following morning, (Y/N) and the others awoke and began preparing for the day ahead before the sun had even risen over the horizon. They changed into clothes more worthy of battle, putting on their armor and chain mail before collecting their weapons. (Y/N) secured his dagger to his hip and retrieved a battle axe, a hefty yet powerful thing that'd do more swift damage than his dagger. By the time the sun rose, the Varangian army had gathered around awaiting instructions. 

"Ready?" Leif asked softly, instinctively reaching out to check the straps of (Y/N)'s armor. The younger man smiled and allowed him to do so without fuss, a soft chuckle leaving him when Leif gave an approving nod, his fingers running over the chain mail before his arms dropped back to his sides. 

"As always." (Y/N) sighed, glancing at Harald when the prince approached them. The deep furrow in his brows softened when they locked eyes, the determination in his gaze disappearing into a look of longing. Harald had grown over the years, all his training with a disciplined army making him stronger, and larger. His hair had grown, as had his beard, and on the days the two managed to keep the peace without arguments, Harald allowed him to trim them. He looked older, more king than prince, and it made his stomach churn to admit it to himself.

Harald walked past them with a nod, coming to a stop at the entrance of the tunnel and peering into the darkness inside where Batu and Kaysan waited for the right moment. They were to draw the attention of the soldiers and coax them into attacking first so the flames from their attack ignited the trail leading to the sulfur. Once ignited, the two had to run before the tunnel exploded and the wall fell. Harald raised his battle axe and lightly tapped the bell, the one Batu needed to ring when the plan sprung into action. 

"You never were good at waiting, were you?" Leif arched a brow, wrapping his fingers around the bell to stop it from swaying and tolling. A small, playful smile tugged at Harald's lips. "Patience. It won't be long now, friend."

"Patience is hardly one of Harald's best attributes." (Y/N) murmured, a hint of teasing in his voice that drew Harald's lips into a full smile. Harald's hand reached out toward him, his palm pressing over his hip and sliding over his lower back; fingers dipping under the silver armor and pressing into the fabric beneath. His touch always felt protective and safe, but it never failed to fill (Y/N) with a false sense of hope. 

"It has always been one of yours, though," Harald spoke softly, his fingertips rubbing the fabric into (Y/N)'s skin affectionately. His eyes crinkled, and despite everything that'd been bubbling up inside (Y/N)'s stomach, he returned the smile. The prince's hand moved to the base of his neck, squeezing the exposed skin there lightly. To any strangers, it may have come across as two close friends merely speaking. But it was simply because Harald couldn't touch his face in public as he desired. "We should speak after the battle, (Y/N). I cannot allow another day to pass without us having a conversation." 

Pursing his lips, (Y/N) gave a small nod and wrapped his fingers over Harald's wrist. "Fine, Harald." Harald's features brightened and he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together before he released him as the bell began to toll. 

The enemy had fallen right for Leif's trap, just as they had hoped. 

Harald clapped Leif's shoulder and trekked back to his post atop a mound of dirt overlooking his army of seven hundred men and women. He began his speech, his words of encouragement riling up the army into cheers and shouts, warrior cries and calls. (Y/N) lingered by the tunnel's entrance, searching the dark for any sign of Batu and Kaysan as the army erupted into more cheers and cries. He spotted movement and Batu emerged, his armor slightly singed and parts of him coated in ash. (Y/N) waited with bated breath for Kaysan, but he never emerged, 

"Leif," (Y/N) turned to look at his brother, giving a light shake of his head. Leif's jaw clenched and he inhaled sharply, tossing his axe to Batu and motioning for him to join the others before he entered the tunnel, the darkness swallowing him and voice echoing off the walls until it grew distant and hardly audible. 

The cries and war horns sounded off through the valley as the army moved, rushing toward the wall their tunnel had led to. The ground gave a light tremor, and through the darkness, Leif emerged with Kaysan leaning on his body, a trickle of blood seeping down from his temple as dark smoke escaped from within the tunnel. (Y/N) called over one of the healers, helping his brother hand Kaysan off to the older man before the two turned and spotted the wall crumbling into a heap of smoke and dust. General Maniakes' men sprinted into action, following after the Varangians and joining the battle. 

"Come!" Leif called to him, taking two axes for himself and running toward the fortress with (Y/N) hot on his heels. 

Stepping through the rumble of the fallen wall, all that could be heard were cries of anger and pain, the clashing of metal against metal, and the thumping of rushing footsteps as all armies hurried to fight and defend. (Y/N) moved forward, locking onto the first Saracen soldier he saw and swinging his axe. The soldier blocked with his shield and then pulled it away to thrust his sword forward, but (Y/N) anticipated the attack and dodged, raising his axe and embedding the blade into the side of the soldier's throat. 

Taking the shield for himself, (Y/N) used it to block attacks from other soldiers, shoving them back and into expecting Varangians who struck the soldiers down with cries and heaves. The first wave of soldiers fell easily and (Y/N) heard Harald's victory cry sound off throughout the air, the tight crowd dispersing throughout the fortress to attack, take, and conquer as they made their way to the castle. The people residing within the walls had quickly fled to the castle for sanctuary, leaving the place largely deserted apart from the second and then the third wave of soldiers. 

By the time they reached the castle gates, Emperor Romanos had joined them, and with his appearance came a plea for parley that momentarily stopped the fighting. (Y/N) found his way to Leif, standing beside him and Dorn as the gates into the castle slowly parted, revealing soldiers inside and the people that'd taken refuge watching from windows or along the roofs. Their ruler, the Emir of Syracuse, waited in the center, clad in clothes and robes of gold and black. He walked forward, and despite his city having been sacked, his face remained unreadable. 

"Emir," Emperor Romanos spoke, "We have reached your barbican and taken your city. Your castle is surrounded. I have come to ask for your surrender, to save your people unnecessary suffering and death." Leif stepped forward, beginning to repeat his words in Arabic but the Emir raised his hand to stop him.

"A translator is not necessary. I understand you perfectly." He said, waving Leif off before he turned his attention back to Emperor Romanos, his dark eyes studying the shorter man before him. "There will be no surrender. As we speak, a great Saracen army is on its way from Cairo and Alexandria to join us. When it arrives it will be you who is surrounded and destroyed."

"For your sake, you should hope it arrives soon." Emperor Ramons responded.

There seemed to be a certain smugness that passed over the Emir's features, finally breaking the serious stare. "We are not worried. We have food and supplies to last us many months."

"But no water." Leif piped up, and the smugness promptly vanished, the furrow in Emir's brows disappearing and the corner of his lips turning downwards. "Syracuse has six wells. I diverted water from five. Your supply will last a week at most." 

At that, Emperor Romanos grinned. "Perhaps your allies will reach you and destroy us before that happens, or perhaps they won't and..." His eyes raised and dragged over the people watching and listening, amongst them women and frightened children. The Emir's head turned and (Y/N) followed his line of sight to a woman with three children at her side, all of various ages. His wife and children, he assumed. "Syracuse will perish. But either way.. many will die. And all will suffer."

"Then I offer another solution," The Emir said, tearing his attention away from his family to look back at them. "Single combat between two fighters. If you are victorious, Sycaruse is yours and you have my promise that my warriors will not retaliate. If you lose, you must depart and not return. Either way, my people must not be harmed."

"And who would your warrior be?" The Emperor inquired with a slight tilt of his head. (Y/N) glanced toward Harald, and then General Maniakes. The brutal, hate-filled man had hardly done much to win his ruler's approval over the last days, at least in comparison to Harald who'd handed him the fortress on a golden platter with little trouble. The Emperor himself would never fight, but he'd certainly unleash his favorite dog on the enemy. 

"Me," Emir answered icily. "And yours?"

"I fight for the empire." General Maniakes deep voice rumbled as he stepped forward but Emperor Romanos raised his hand to stop him, shaking his head and turning to look over his shoulder at Harald. The corners of his lips twisted up into a smile, one that made General Maniakes scowl and glare viciously at Harald.

"You will fight my Varangian." Emperor Romanos responded, striding forward toward the Emir and giving a dip of his head. "And you have my promise. Your people will not be harmed and our agreement, honored."

(Y/N) remained silent the walk back to camp, his gaze bouncing between the floor and staring holes into the back of Harald's head as they entered Leif's tent alongside the others. He approached the basin and dipped a rag inside, roughly wiping his hands and face clean to distract himself from his churning mind. He could feel the irritation creeping up his back, an annoyance he couldn't quite pin on anyone. Batu sharpened Harald's axe in thought, the sound filling the silence while Kaysan helped Harald adjust his armor. 

"If we were in Novgorod, I could sell a thousand seats and make enough to retire," Batu said and laughed heartily, his words only reminding (Y/N) of the countless times Harald had thrown himself into battle without thinking. He scarcely had good memories of Novgorod, and the ones he remembered vividly were of Harald bloody and battered. 

Without thinking, (Y/N) sent Batu a glare sharp enough to get his friend to hurriedly clamp his mouth shut and wince. He cleared his throat and diverted his eyes, subtly motioning for Kaysan and him to make their exit. Kaysan nodded and stood up from his stool, giving Harald a pat on the shoulder as Batu handed him his axe back and smiled encouragingly before the two quickly slipped out of the tent; leaving Harald alone with the two brothers. 

"We can select three weapons. I'll start with the battle axe." Harald spoke, approaching the weapon's table and setting the axe alongside the rest. (Y/N) inhaled deeply through his nose and rubbed his fingertips against his temple to soothe the beginnings of a headache away before it could consume him. Leif remained equally as silent and it finally made Harald cave. "You're both quiet, which means you're either angry or worried about something. Perhaps both."

"I worry you underestimate him," Leif revealed with a sigh, raising his head to look at his friend with a growing frown. Harald scoffed, his brows furrowing as his eyes darted between the two brothers, almost as if offended they'd doubt him. (Y/N) squeezed the water out of the rag and set it aside to dry, finally looking up at the prince. 

"I underestimate no man who's trying to kill me." Harald retorted, turning his irritated stare onto the weapons spread out in front of him. "We'll both be fighting for our lives." 

"No, only you will be." Leif's lips formed a grim line, feet moving slowly as he approached his friend and motioned in the direction of the castle. "He is fighting for his people."

"As am I-"

"What people? Yours or Romanos's?" Leif questioned him sharply, arching his brows and drawing a scowl from Harald. (Y/N) leaned his hip back against the table, his arms folding over his stomach. Harald and his short temper... it was a mystery how the man had lived for so long without getting himself killed.

"I fight today for the same reason I've been fighting for the last seven years! For treasure." It stung, even if (Y/N) had seen it coming, piercing his stomach and sucking him dry of the false hope. "So I can return to Norway and assume the throne of my people, which is rightfully mine. Nothing else." 

"I am glad to hear my brother and I are hardly considered things you fight for, Harald, after we've spent the last seven years fighting and living in a foreign country for you." (Y/N) seethed, and the tension in Harald's shoulders disappeared, his eyes squeezing shut and a silent curse forming on his lips. His chest heaved with a sigh and he stepped past Leif, his arm extending to grab him but (Y/N) smacked it away with a scoff. "I can understand caring little for a bedmate but Leif deserves to be someone you fight for after everything he's done for you." 

"A bedmate- (Y/N), I-" 

"Enjoy your fight, General." (Y/N) shoved past him forcibly and rounded the table before Harald could attempt to stop him. He threw the flaps of the tent apart and stepped out into the sunlight, taking a sharp inhale of the fresh air to calm the fury and hurt dancing along his veins. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his dagger, allowing himself to take a few more steadying breaths. 

He'd made the right decision years prior, he reminded himself. Harald proved it to him time after time. He just needed a reminder every once in a while, even if it hurt.

(Y/N) avoided looking in Harald's direction once he finished preparing for the fight, only focusing on following Emperor Romanos into the castle where they'd set up an area for the fight. He broke away from the Emperor's tight crowd to stand behind the table where Batu placed Harald's other two choices of weapon: a smaller battle axe and a sword, with the larger battle axe being the one he walked into the makeshift arena with. 

"He didn't mean to say it like that," Leif said quietly, always the one forced to make peace between them. (Y/N) pursed his lips and clasped his hands in front of himself, his fingers wrapping tightly around his palm. "I know you called yourself a bedmate to hurt him, (Y/N). You've seen how desperate he's been these past three years; you've seen how he gets when he hears you have a new lover. You are much more to him than that."

"But not enough to desire a different destiny for himself." Leif fell quiet at that, his softened eyes gazing into the side of his brother's face before he sighed softly and looked forward toward the two fighters when they entered the arena and assumed their positions. Despite his lingering hurt, worry jabbed at his stomach for Harald. 

Harald moved first, swinging his axe upward to knock back the Emir's sword, but the Emir moved swiftly, turning on his feet and facing Harald before he could turn around. Harald's jaw ticked and he studied his opponent, switching which hand held the axe before he charged again, grasping the axe with both hands and taking a few swings at him; metal clanging through the air as the Emir swiftly blocked each swing with his sword until Harald turned his axe and slammed the blunt end against his chest, forcing him back a few steps. 

The Emir grunted and grabbed Harald's axe, shoving it back and mimicking his movement as he slammed the handle of his sword repeatedly into Harald's chest which forced Harald to stumble backward and just barely dodge a swing from the sword. The Emir charged, giving Harald hardly any time to dodge another swing but he managed to duck down in time and create some distance between them to reassess his approach. The Emir sneered, baring his teeth and grasping the handle of his sword with both hands. He was a good fighter, as all rulers had to be. 

Harald charged again, slamming the end and top of his axe repeatedly against the Emir's side before slamming the top near his armpit and forcing him back roughly against the stone wall. The Emir released a shout at the impact and shoved the axe away, slashing his sword at Harald and missing his chest plate by an inch or so. Harald swung again, only for his axe to slam into the wall and break in half, leaving him without a weapon. 

With the half still in hand, he managed to defend himself by blocking the Emir's attacks as he sprang and walked backward toward the table. He threw the broken piece at the Emir's head, nearly hitting his ear, and swiftly turned on his heel to snatch both weapons from the table. He faced the Emir once more, eyes narrowing when the Emir approached his own table and took two new swords into his hands. They stared at each other for a brief moment, catching their breaths. 

The Emir charged first with a cry - perhaps growing emboldened with the trickle of blood seeping from Harald's brow - and swung both his swords at him relentlessly, turning and swinging as he followed Harald's quick dodges. Harald nearly sank his axe into the Emir's face in a quick turn but the Emir dodged it in time. They continued back and forth, swinging and dodging hits from each other with grunts and cries. They moved viciously and relentlessly, switching between fighting offensively and defensively within seconds as they grew more enraged and desperate for a win. 

Harald managed to swipe at the Emir's feet and knock him onto the gravelly ground, the Emir's foot rising up quickly to slam into Harald's knee and knock him down into a kneeling position. The Emir moved onto his knees as well, the blows they swung at each other forcing them to remain kneeling until the Emir launched himself forward and Harald threw himself backward, both men rolling along the floor. Harald moved onto his side and attempted to stab the Emir in the side with his sword but the Emir slashed right through the blade, leaving him with a sword resembling a knife. 

The two men scrambled upright and assessed each other again, sucking in large gulps of air and staring each other down. Harald switched the way he held his broken sword and the swing-block dance resumed until Harald swung at the Emir's and was cut just above the elbow. He released a cry of pain and sound around, wincing as he touched his bleeding arm before looking up at his opponent. The Emir stared at Harald, his breathing turning wheezy and his feet staggering. (Y/N) caught the gleam of the broken sword jammed right below the Emir's armpit. 

The Emir raised his arm and stumbled forward again, a look of distraught passing over his features as he fell to his knees and slumped forward. While Emperor Romanos's men erupted into cheers of victory, (Y/N) couldn't help but look in the direction of the Emir's wife, watching the tears stream helplessly down her face. Her husband had fought bravely, not just for his people but for her and their children. (Y/N) bit the inside of his cheek. 

His father had fought and killed countless of men, simply because he could and felt like it, but at least in Greenland, when you killed a man it was because it was necessary. For food, shelter, to defend your family. But in Constantinople, they took lives to make an emperor richer. They killed for treasure they hardly used, and for little else.

(Y/N) grimaced. He missed home.

[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.

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

~~~

Their cell felt cold and dark. Hay sparsely covered the solid ground and the windows were covered, making the circle in the ceiling their only form of light apart from the single torch in the corner. Dust clung to the air and walls, telling (Y/N) the jail was very rarely used. Jarl Haakon appeared to run a tight ship.

But even with years of experience under her belt, she hadn't foreseen the attack Freydis had launched on the Christian. She'd been successful without Harald's keen eye trained on her. Using her knife, she had carved a cross into the man's chest just as he had done to her back years prior. The aftermath had been far from calm but Jarl Haakon had been convinced to provide them a proper trial rather than take their heads.

So, there they were... Sitting in a cold cell with a murky future ahead of them. (Y/N) could only stare at the flickering flame of the torch, his finger tracing over the thread of his necklace, feeling his skin brush against the canine teeth tied to it. None of them had gotten a wink of sleep with the threat of death looming over them and (Y/N) could feel the consequences of it knawing at the back of his eyes. His siblings sat silently with their knees up to their chests, gazes distant as they stared forward. 

"Do you feel justice?" Leif broke the silence first with his words, lifting his head and looking at the exhausted Freydis. 

"Yes, I do," Freydis answered softly and craned her neck to look at them over her shoulder. Even with the dim lighting, (Y/N) could still see the drops of blood splattered on her face. "I feel cleansed."

"Good." Leif breathed, nodding to himself before continuing. "Because now they intend to kill us."

"I don't believe that. Father said-"

"Father was wrong." Leif interrupted and Freydis frowned, looking away from them as her bottom lip began to quiver. "He's a stranger to this world, Freydis. He does not know how much has changed since he left."

"Then I believe in Jarl Haakon." Freydis asserted, eyes beginning to gloss over with fresh tears. Guilt and hope battled within her, (Y/N) saw it in her eyes. She'd gotten her justice but at what cost? Her life? Her brothers' lives?

"I believe in her too." (Y/N) muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "Her face changed when she heard what happened, Leif. She may not allow us to go unpunished, but she may allow us to live."

"Jarl Haakon may feel sympathy, but she is in a difficult position. If she releases us, she risks war. Christians will burn down Kattegat and many of her people will die. It is in her best interest to have us killed." 

"Then we die together. We came here for Freydis. We knew the risks and dangers. I would rather die beside my family than surrounded by strangers on a battlefield." (Y/N) declared, turning his attention onto Freydis. Her lips pursed and she released a breathy, sad chuckle as she turned her head to gaze fondly at her brother. Tears had already begun to slip down her cheeks but his words put a warm smile on her face. Allowing his shoulders to slump, Leif inhaled deeply and nodded in agreement, reaching his arm out to wrap it around his brother's shoulder. 

"We fought together and we'll die together," Leif muttered, resting his cheek against (Y/N) head. 

Freydis's lips parted, almost as if to speak, but her words caught in her throat when the cell door slung open and three Vikings entered with chains and shackles in their hands. While the one with chains approached Freydis, the other two walked toward the brothers and roughly pulled them up onto their feet, placing the shackles on their wrists and shoving them forward toward the doors. They were escorted out of the cell and down an equally dimly lit hallway before being directed outside and toward the hall where Jarl Haakon and King Canute waited for them. 

The hall had already been filled with Vikings, mainly Christians seeking justice for their fallen friend. They glared and sneered and jeered, gazing upon them as if they were mere filth. (Y/N) felt the hate and rage in their gazes. Even if they barely cared for the murdered Christian, following another god was a sin worthy of death for many of them. Their hatred could move mountains, but on most days, it burned down homes and slaughtered innocents. 

"Freydis Eriksdotter, you are accused of murdering a man you claimed attacked you." Jarl Haakon took her seat on her throne, head lifting as she regarded Freydis. "Have you a way to prove this?"

"Did I put the scar on my back?"

"Any one of your lovers could have done that to you!" One of the Christians, Jarl Olaf Haraldsson, sneered from his spot in the crowd, glaring at them with the same fury and disgust.

Freydis scowled. "The Gods know the whole truth!"

"False Gods!" Jarl Olaf spat back, rousing the crowd with his words as Vikings called their agreements or disagreed with him. In an attempt to quiet the crowd, Jarl Haakon repeatedly hit the floor with her staff, frown deepening when it proved futile and tensions grew.

"There is only one false God! Your Christian God!" Jarl Gorm bellowed, his voice carrying above all others.

"Silence!" Jarl Haakon called, slamming her staff down one last time and watching the men finally settle down. With the attention back on the trial instead of religion, Jark Haakon sighed and nodded to Freydis.

"In the old ways, you would be well within your rights to take revenge. But we live in different times. There are those gathered among us who feel that your claims require further truth. Can you provide it?"

"A trial by combat." Freydis proposed, shifting her gaze onto Jarl Olaf, a man thrice her size. (Y/N) felt his breath catch in his throat, widened eyes meeting Leif's as the two exchanged a panicked glance. Freydis could hold her own, they knew that well, but Jarl Olaf was far more experienced in combat and strategy than any of them. "If I am lying, the Gods will not protect me."

"Combat? With me?" Jarl Olaf snickered and the rest of the hall howled with laughter.

Lips pulling into an amused smirk, Jarl Haakon eyed the cackling man. "You are her accuser. Are you afraid?" Her words caused Jarl Olaf's face to burn, glaring at those among him who laughed at him instead. Eager to shake the embarrassment and attention off, he stepped forward and addressed the quiet man beside Jarl Haakon.

"King Canute, this woman's actions have robbed you of a valuable part of your arsenal. Not having Gunnar puts the lives of everyone in this room, Christian and Pagan, at risk. Therefore, I implore you and the noble ruler of Kattegat to acknowledge that debt and make her pay for it with her life!" Turning, he shouted as he pointed at Freydis. With the crowd once again growing rowdy, Jarl Olaf smugly smirked and stepped back into line. The confidence on his face made (Y/N) grind his teeth.

"Jarl Haakon, may I speak?" Harald called out, stepping forward when the woman nodded. Motioning toward Jarl Olaf, he began. "Jarl Olaf makes an excellent argument. Gunnar was an important part of our strategy, and his loss will indeed cause hardship. But my brother may have also offered a better solution. Since this woman cost you a vital element to your mission, should she not be forced to render something of equal, if not greater value to our endeavor?"

"Such as?" King Canute prompted and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. With King Canute's interest piqued, the end of Harald's lips twitched upward and he turned his head to look at the siblings, gaze lingering on Freydis before he lifted his arm.

"Her brothers: Leif Eriksson and (Y/N) Eriksson." Harald answered. Freydis went rigid, eyes widening as her brothers were pushed forward for King Canute to look upon. "Sons of the Great Berserker, Erik the Red. Leif is one of, if not the best ship captains in this room. He piloted his ship across open ocean from Greenland through a storm that killed scores of others, with the help of his brother, (Y/N), who possesses incredible fighting skills I've witnessed myself. Should we doubt their motivation, they will be fighting for the life... of their sister." 

Harald had offered a solution without bloodshed. A solution that saved their lives, if they didn't die in the war instead. (Y/N)'s throat felt dry but a sense of relief settled on his chest, eyes shifting to look at his sister. Freydis appeared near tears, nearly trembling as she stared at Jark Haakon and King Canute. They could easily dismiss it and proceed with killing them but as the two leaders looked at each other, it seemed like they were in agreement. 

"Leif Eriksson, (Y/N) Eriksson, I ransom your sister to King Canute. To repay her debt, you both must pledge service to his cause. Do you accept these terms?" Jark Haakon asked. (Y/N) looked at his brother next, staring into Leif's blue eyes and searching for any ounce of doubt. But he found none. And Leif found none in (Y/N) either. 

"I do." With their answer, Jarl Haakon nodded for her men to release the brothers. One man took Freydis by the arm and pulled her away, only letting the brothers stare after their sister as the shackles were removed from their wrists. And while they physically weren't shackled anymore, they were still in chains. Tied to King Canute until his war ended. But their sister would live and that was all that mattered to (Y/N).

"I believe this is yours," Harald said, pulling their attention onto him. Harald extended his arm toward him, offering back his precious dagger. (Y/N) felt a sense of relief and security wash over him, gently picking up the dagger and sliding it into his rightful place. Noticing the calm that wash over the younger man, Harald smiled. "Come, both of you. I must show you something." 

"What is it?" Leif asked curiously, a hint of caution in his voice as the brothers followed Harald out of the hall but the Viking simply grinned at them. The other Greenlanders quickly joined them, quietly asking questions and glancing at each other nervously when Leif answered them. They weaved their way through the bustling town, reaching the dock where ships awaited them, many being prepared and packed for the trip to England. Harald led them toward one in particular.

"It was my father's ship." He revealed, stopping before it and watching the Greenlanders begin to board and explore it curiously. (Y/N) followed his brother on, looking over the woodwork of it. The ship was far larger than the boat they'd used to sail to Kattegat, sturdier and meant for many Vikings. A true warship. "And now it's yours," Harald added, drawing the brothers' attention. (Y/N) met Leif's gaze, shrugging his shoulders when the older man raised a brow. 

"It's a nice boat." (Y/N) murmured, running a hand over the ledge of the boat before peering up at Harald and catching sight of his prideful smile.

"I'm glad you find it so," Harald replied, his gaze focused solely on the young Greenlander. His eyes studied (Y/N) closely, almost as if he were trying to commit every detail about him to memory. When Harald finally pried his eyes off him, he motioned toward the boat docked beside them. (Y/N) turned his head and easily spotted it. Perhaps twice as large as the boat they were on and suited for royalty. Shields had been fasted to the sides of it, proudly displaying the colors of Norway's flag. "But that is the ship I covet."

"King Harald of Norway, hm?" Leif spoke in a teasing tone, his grin only growing when he noticed the surprised look that passed over his brothers' features. (Y/N)'s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in the direction of his brother. His skin flushed lightly and he avoided Harald's amused gaze.

"Someday." Harald smiled warmly before nodding to them and heading down the dock.

Leaning his hip against the wall of their new ship, (Y/N) watched the dark-haired prince, feeling his skin prickle with some embarrassment when Harald looked back toward him, coming to a slow stop and holding his gaze. Averting his eyes, (Y/N) cleared his throat and faced his brother, arms crossing over his chest. "You could've mentioned he was a prince."

"I enjoy it when you make a fool of yourself." Leif chuckled, helping Yrsa and Toke bring everyone's belongings on board. (Y/N) couldn't help the small smile that stretched across his face, rolling his eyes at his brother's words and stepping toward Yrsa to help as well. Leif questioned his friends, allowing them to choose whether they'd join him in battle or remain safe in Kattegat. With the boat ready to go, (Y/N) and Leif stepped back onto the dock and exchanged farewells with the friends who chose to remain in Kattegat. 

Feeling Leif tug on his arm, he turned his head and spotted their sister making her way down the dock with Harald, a wide smile on her face. She embraced Leif first, giving him a tight hug and rubbing his arm. Gazing at (Y/N), she hugged him next and sighed softly, tightening her hold on him for a moment before stepping back. With quivering lips and watery eyes, she smiled. "I will make sacrifices to Odin for your safe return."

"We'll be fine. You take care of yourself." Leif smiled softly at her and she nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. She inhaled and looked at (Y/N), rolling her lips into her mouth and stepping forward for a second hug. (Y/N) chuckled softly, stroking the back of her head and holding her close.

"Protect each other." She whispered shakily, hand rubbing his back.

"We will." (Y/N) assured, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. Freydis leaned back, using the back of her back to wipe away the tears sliding down her cheeks. She smiled warmly at the rest of her friends, stepping forward to give them each an embrace. The familiar feeling of tears prickled the back of his eyes but he blinked them away and stepped onto the boat, inhaling shakily. With the goodbyes finished, Freydis smiled sadly and looked over each of them, taking slow steps along the dock until she reached Harald and uttered a soft thanks. She glanced one last time over her shoulder before heading down the dock and disappearing from sight.

A few more Vikings joined them, some Christian, others Pagan. Among them were Jarl Gorm, the outspoken Pagon with a large figure and long ginger hair, and his son Arne, a young man with a scruffy beard and short blonde hair. Then there was Johan, a Christian Viking with hair that swept over one eye, and Tomas, a younger man with short curly black hair and boyish features. Birger, a Christian Viking who appeared to be a close friend of Harald's, joined them as well. 

(Y/N) watched the new faces join them and introduce themselves, and even with each friendly smile, he felt more and more uneasy. It'd taken nearly a year for (Y/N) to grow comfortable around the other Greenlanders, and it took another year for him to fully trust them. To have so many strangers on a boat with growing animosity between a few of them... (Y/N)'s stomach twisted. 

Noticing his tense figure, Leif placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Easy, (Y/N). We're all working together." He murmured and (Y/N) nodded, turning to watch him step onto one of the seats and look over his new crew as Njal and Skarde brought a barrel to the center of the boat.

"Listen up! All knives and axes in the barrel. No one rows with a weapon on them." 

"I don't give up my knife for anybody." Jarl Gorm voiced defiantly.

"There's only one reason to row with a weapon, and that is to kill someone else on this boat. Your enemy is not here." Leif responded, gaze shifting to his brother and giving a small shake of his head. (Y/N) rested his hand on the hilt of his dagger, satisfied he didn't have to toss it into the barrel.

"What if he is?" Arne piped up, eyeing Johan and Tomas when the two stepped by him.

"Then I'll deal with it," Leif answered cooly, face remaining stoic as he looked over the crew. For him to be taken seriously, he needed to act like a leader. Otherwise, those like Arne and Jarl Gorm would do as they pleased, even at the cost of others' lives.

Moving forward, Harald spoke and dropped his axe into the barrel. "I have no enemies here." 

With Harald making the first move, the others soon followed, dropping their axes and knives into the barrel. The outspoken men hesitated, glancing at each other and staring at the barrel as weapons were dropped in. Arne cracked first, begrudgingly dropping his axe in. Jarl Gorm held Leif's gaze challengingly but ultimately stepped forward and tossed his weapons in. (Y/N) watched him, taking note of the way he readjusted his coat with his back turned to them. Humming softly, he looked back at Leif and quirked a brow, his brother giving a small nod of acknowledgment before beckoning him over.

"I want you beside me," Leif told him, sitting down on his seat and resting his arms upon the steering oar. (Y/N) eyed Harald when the prince sat down behind Leif, a small smile appearing on the prince's face. (Y/N) frowned at him in return and took a seat on the bulwark, feeling Harald's eyes burn into the back of his head. Propping his leg up, (Y/N) placed his arm on his knee as the boat began to move forward, following King Canute's ship. Vikings released shouts and cries of encouragement as they rowed out into open water.

"Interesting necklace," Harald mentioned, retrieving a discarded rope and beginning to toy with the ends of it, gazing at the threat holding the canine teeth together around the Greenlander's neck. (Y/N) turned his attention out onto the dark waters, watching the ripples and small waves in a blatant attempt at ignoring the prince.

Leif made a noise of amusement and shook his head, fingers drumming lightly against the steering oar. "My brother has never been much of a talker."

"I can see that," Harald chuckled. 

Hours passed, the occasional silence filled with small talk between Leif and Harald. The two seemed to grow a quick tolerance for each other, even going as far as cracking a few jokes. And despite Harald's attempts at communicating with the younger Eriksson, his questions remained unanswered, though it only fueled his curiosity. Jarl Gorm eventually walked toward them, being mindful of holding onto things unless he wished to be tossed around by the rocking boat. 

"So, is this your first Viking raid? Are you nervous?" Jarl Gorm questioned, resting his hand on the side of the boat and planting his feet firmly on the wood beneath them. 

"Our father was a raider. He told us he was a Berserker." Leif said and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"That means he was a mighty warrior and killed many men." Jarl Gorm explained, stepping closer to Leif and moving his hand onto the oar. "Like Harald." Jarl Gorm motioned toward the prince and for the first time since the boat set sail, (Y/N) turned his head to look at him.

Unable to read his expression clearly, Harald cleared his throat. "So, why did he go to Greenland?"

"Because he killed men, even when he wasn't raiding," Leif answered grimly. The subject of their father never failed to make him upset. Even when Erik made attempts at being a decent father, his past and crimes always caught up to him. A past his children had to accept but Leif grew to resent.

"Have you ever killed a man before?" 

Shaking his head, Leif frowned at Jarl Gorm. "No. I've never had a reason to."

"And you, boy?" Jarl Gorm turned toward (Y/N) next. The younger Greenlander held Harald's gaze for a moment longer before looking at the older man and nodding, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Almost." (Y/N) answered and Jarl Gorm raised his brows. "He insulted my family so I bashed his face in with a rock. He lost an eye." He still remembered the day. He'd only been nine when the thirteen-year-old boy had decided to bother Erik the Red's son. He found out just how thin (Y/N)'s patience ran at the cost of an eye. The memory of his screams and wails still brought a smirk to (Y/N)'s face. 

Smirking widely, Jarl Gorm nodded his approval. "It appears we've got a Berserker in the making."

"We were children." Leif clarified hastily, a frown pulling at his lips.

"Still." Jarl Gorm insisted before he sighed heavily and looked between the two. Without their father there to guide them, it seemed as if Jarl Gorm wanted to take matters into his own hands. "The first time is sometimes difficult. A man is different. He fights back."

"So does a polar bear." Leif chided and Harald smirked, chuckling softly under his breath. Seemingly irritated with his dismissive response and Harald's amusement, Jarl Gorm's lip curled and he turned,  heading back to his seat. (Y/N) watched him go, turning his head to meet his brother's eyes and frowning. Leif responded with a small nod.

Noticing the interaction between the brothers, Harald hummed. "You can speak freely before me, (Y/N)."

"Why should I?" (Y/N) frowned at him. "I do not trust you. Prince of Norway or not, you are... nothing to me."

"I saved your lives." Harald reminded softly, brows furrowing when (Y/N)'s eyes narrowed, almost reeling back at the irritation that appeared on his face. "How can you not trust me after that?"

"Because you had no reason to. People only help others when they wish for something in return and you've yet to reveal what you want from us."

"I want nothin-"

"I do not believe you." (Y/N) interrupted him. "We owe you, you know this. So what do you want? Our blessing to couple with our sister? If she wants you, we will not stop her." 

Sighing heavily, Harald shook his head. "Freydis is an incredibly strong woman and I admire her greatly. But she does not desire me nor I her."

"Then why-" A holler for Harald came from King Canute's ship and the prince quickly rose to his feet, noticing the large ship had stopped and tilted slightly to allow for Harald to board it.

"This is not over," Harald told (Y/N) as he climbed onto the side of the ship, carefully making his way along the edge until he stepped onto the larger boat and approached King Canute beneath the pitched tent. (Y/N) clenched his jaw and shook his head, looking back at Leif. His older brother stared at him with a frown.

"What?"

"You don't need to be so harsh. I have no reason to believe he has ill intentions." Leif spoke softly, leaning into the steering oar and gazing at his brother. (Y/N) sighed, turning his head away from him. His lips parted to speak but the sight of dark clouds approaching broke his train of thought. Straightening up, (Y/N) felt the wind pick up considerably, and soon, a horn echoed as a warning of the incoming storm. Cold droplets fell onto his face and he looked back at his brother, groaning softly. Leif watched the storm, looking up at the clouds as thunder began to clap above them.

Turning to the man closest to him, he gave an order. "Lower the sail." 

"Lower the sail!" Birger called as those standing quickly sat back down and prepared to hang on for dear life. The ginger made his way toward the mast but tripped over Aren's outstretched foot, causing him to take a quick tumble onto the wet floor. 

"Watch out, Christian! Maybe you should pray to be more careful." Aren cackled loudly.

"You tripped him on purpose." Johan scoffed, droplets dripping down the side of his face as the rain pelted them.

"I did not."

"I saw you!" Johan barked and Aren's cocky smirk quickly slipped from his face.

"You callin' me a liar?" Arne questioned and stood, tapping his chest. "Come here and tell me that!" He challenged, causing Johan to rise from his spot and step toward him. But before the two men could meet in the middle, (Y/N) shoved himself between them, putting his hand on Arne's shoulder and forcing him back down to his seat.

"Resolve your issues when we reach land." (Y/N) ordered, turning his head toward Johan. He only had to give the taller man a hard look for the Christian to bow his head and lower himself back into his seat.

Leif moved to stand beside (Y/N), frowning down at Arne. "Do you have a problem with my order?"

"I'm fine." Arne raised his arms in surrender and (Y/N) removed his hand from his shoulder. Satisfied with his response, Leif nodded and patted his brother's back, turning away from the others as Jarl Gorm followed the two toward the steering oar. 

"I thought you were both followers of the Old Gods, like your father." He spoke loudly, the rain beating down on his face and causing him to squint. Merely glancing at the older man, (Y/N) slipped some rope around his palm and gripped it as tight as possible, hoping it'd keep him from falling into the turbulent waves around them. 

"We are," Leif nodded, getting behind the oar and placing his hands on it.

"Then why take the word of a Christian over my own son?"

"Because your son is a liar, Jarl Gorm." He answered bluntly before leaning back. "I suggest you hold on. It's about to get rough."

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

Thick fog surrounded them on all sides and the wind howled softly while birds circled above them. (Y/N) couldn't hear or see another boat, meaning they were all alone for now. With no land or allies in sight. And yet, (Y/N) didn't have worries or fears. His brother knew what he was doing, that was for certain. As long as Leif didn't panic, (Y/N) had no reason to worry. But the others aboard didn't know his brother as well as he did, they didn't trust him either. It was apparent in the way some Christians prayed and others stared at them accusingly. 

"We're lost, aren't we?" Jarl Gorm spoke up first, voicing the thought no doubt plaguing their minds. "You've never been to England, and you've lost us!"

"We're not lost." Leif objected tiredly and (Y/N) turned his head to look back at them, frowning at the way Jarl Gorm scowled at his brother.

"Liar! This is your fault and the fault of all the Christians and their false God. The Gods are laughing at us right now!"

"Shut up, heathen." Birger groaned.

"What did you say to me?"

"I said, shut up. You sound like a frightened child." The ginger gritted his teeth as he spoke, turning his head to look upon Jarl Gorm. The Viking slowly rose from his seat, sneering down at the man and stepping toward him. Tearing himself away from the pow, (Y/N) descended down the two steps and slammed his palm on the mast as a warning, successfully taking Jarl Gorm's attention off the man and onto him.

"Stop rowing!" Leif barked his order, walking forward toward Jarl Gorm. "What do you see that makes you believe we're lost?"

"What do I see?" Jarl Gorm repeated, turning his head from side to side before settling his gaze back on Leif and wildly motioning around them. "No land!"

"See, that is where you and I are different. The sky tells me we are headed west. Auks and gannets flying high tell me the weather is improving and we are nearing land." Leif explained, watching Jarl Gorm glance up at the birds flying above. He looked back down at Leif and swallowed.

"Then where are the other boats?"

"The other boats are not my responsibility. This boat-" Leif tapped the mast, raising his brows at Jarl Gorm. "-is my responsibility. For all you know, the other boats are lost, not ours. Now, we continue." With his words, the others resumed their rowing. Jarl Gorm accepted defeat and headed back to his spot. 

"And Jarl Gorm, stop blaming the Christians for your fears, hm?" Leif turned away from the man and (Y/N) followed suit as Birger began laughing. But when his laughter abruptly stopped and turned into gurgling, (Y/N) turned around and spotted him leaning against the side of the boat with blood pouring down his neck. The small group of Christians were immediately held back and the other Greenlanders could only stare at the bleeding man. Liv tore herself from their side and hurried over to Birger but the damage had been done. She could only provide mild comfort as he slowly died.

"I'm taking over the boat!" Jarl Gorm declared. "Arne, get the weapons."

"Let them go!" Leif demanded, pushing his way through the crew as (Y/N) quickly stood in front of the barrel, blocking Arne from reaching it just in time.

"Or what, Greenlander? You're going to kill me? I am not a bear and you are not a Viking." Jarl Gorm called hauntingly. His son glared at (Y/N) but remained rooted in his spot, eyes nervously flickering to Njal as the taller man protectively stood behind (Y/N). "You don't have the stomach to kill me."

"A polar bear thinks the same thing before he dies," Leif replied and with a grunt, Jarl Gorm lunged forward. Leif dodged the swing from his axe, slipping past him and using the mast to block Jarl Gorm's swing before he sprung out, digging his knife into the belly of the man. Leif stared him in the eyes as Jarl Gorm gasped and whimpered, digging his knife deeper and deeper. Arne whipped his head around to look at his father, staggering slightly and swallowing thickly.

"When I pull this out, you will be dead. Before I do, tell your men what you see." Leif demanded, turning the man to look forward. 

With one last dying gasp, Jarl Gorm spoke before collapsing on the ground, "England." 

"Anyone else wishes to join Jarl Gorm?" (Y/N) questioned loudly, staring at Arne and raising a brow at him. When the blonde turned away from him and slumped back down in his seat, he looked over each Viking, watching them avert their eyes and shake their heads. (Y/N) turned his attention back onto Arne, gaze lingering on him before he hummed. "Good. Now, get to rowing." 

Once everyone settled back down into their spots, (Y/N) and Leif dragged Birger to the middle of the boat beside Jarl Gorm. Despite their faults, (Y/N) was certain they'd find themselves feasting with whichever faith they chose to believe in, old or new. Leif returned to the steering oar and settled down, appearing unphased by what had occurred. (Y/N) placed his hand on his shoulder briefly before stepping up and leaning against the pow, watching the cliffs grow closer until a horn sounded off in the distance. Turning his head, he spotted ships appearing through the fog.

Jarl Olaf's ship neared them first, tilting so it could brush past their boat safely. Perplexed faces greeted them, confusion only intensifying upon seeing the two bodies. Following the ship, King Canute's sailed beside them and came to a slow stop, allowing Harald to step onto the ledge and board their ship. Harald paused, gazing down at Birger with a saddened frown. He climbed down, briefly stopping to rest his hand on the chest of his friend before approaching the brothers. (Y/N) crossed his arms as he watched Harald walk toward them, meeting his gaze briefly. Harald placed his hand on Leif's arm, features softening slightly.

With an approving nod, he looked at them. "Vikings."

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 7

Request: Yes or No

~~~

Many days had passed since they had returned to Kattegat from London. Freydis settled into her new position, Leif and Liv into their blossoming relationship, and (Y/N)... Well, he settled into Harald's bed on most nights.

He hadn't intended to, truly. The third time they had found themselves giving in to their desires, (Y/N) had slipped away from Harald's slumbering body and left his lodgings, going back to the room he'd been freely given by Jarl Haakon for his part in the war efforts. The following morning, Harald had easily found him during breakfast. But he simply sat down beside him as if all was well and picked up conversation with Leif. (Y/N) had told himself he'd make a point to Harald: that they were far better off as friends. But Harald was good with words, and even better with his hands.

So when he found himself waking up in an all-too-familiar bed, he merely buried his face in the feather-stuffed pillow and wished the day away. His movements, however, caught the eye of the waking Viking beside him. Fingers danced up his spine and soft lips kissed the back of his shoulder. When (Y/N) didn't stir, Harald pressed his palm against his back and slipped his hand underneath his body, scooping the Greenlander into his arms and pulling him against his chest. His response came in the form of a disapproving groan. Harald chuckled softly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of (Y/N)'s neck. (Y/N) couldn't understand why Harald insisted on being so affectionate. How the man remained unwed was still a mystery to him.

"You must want to meet God, Harald." (Y/N) grumbled. Harald laughed against his skin.

"Did I wake you, love?" He asked and (Y/N) grew still. Harald continued to nuzzle into his neck, burying his face into his skin and tickling him with his beard. He was testing him. (Y/N) could tell. Harald would've lifted his head to look at him properly otherwise. (Y/N) shut his eyes and sighed deeply. He could tell. Gods, he'd been spending so much time around Harald that he had picked up on his habits. His face warmed considerably and he wanted to desperately bury his face in the pillow until slumber took him away.

"No," (Y/N) answered, shoving down the eruption of butterflies in his stomach. 

"Good." Harald rested his chin on his shoulder and ran his hand down (Y/N)'s arm. Slipping his fingers between (Y/N)'s, he pulled their hands to his face and kissed the back of (Y/N)'s. "I wanted to speak with you."

"What about?" (Y/N) shifted, laying on his back and gazing up at Harald curiously. Harald ran his lips over (Y/N)'s hand in concentration- or perhaps deliberation- before sighing softly. (Y/N) pressed his lips into a line, eyes flickering all over Harald's face.

"Us," Harald whispered.

"Us?" (Y/N) repeated breathlessly, brows furrowing. Harald nodded and pushed himself up with his arm, his other hand slipping under the covers to nudge (Y/N)'s legs apart. Heat bubbled in (Y/N)'s stomach but it soon faded once Harald lied down on top of him, his weight pressing him into the bed in an oddly comforting way. Resting his head down on (Y/N)'s chest, Harald allowed his eyes to flutter shut, one finger softly stroking the beginning of his scar while (Y/N)'s fingers slipped into the wavy brown locks brushing against his chin, gently scraping Harald's scalp and eliciting a soft rumble of contentment from the prince. 

"I feel strongly for you, (Y/N). More strongly than I've ever felt for anyone else." Harald revealed quietly, listening to the sound of horns blowing in the distance. (Y/N)'s gaze rose up onto the ceiling, running over the woodwork and beams keeping the structure up. He wondered if Harald could hear his heartbeat quicken. "I know our people would judge us and you deserve more than to be hidden away. But, I cannot help how I feel and... I needed to know if you felt the same."

Feelings... such bothersome things. They made his skin burn hotter than the sun and nauseated him until he could no longer think straight. His heart would threaten to burst out of his chest and his lips would pull into a smile, no matter how sour of a day he had. He hated it. He hated not having control over his own body. It reacted so wildly to a man, a Christian prince, who had a cheeky smile and kind eyes. (Y/N) hated the invisible rope that drew Harald to him over and over, hated how easily his eyes found Harald in a room, and he loathed the fluttery feeling that sunk its teeth into his stomach. Loki must've been having a field day with him, that mischievous little God. Or perhaps... Freya had bestowed him with a gift.

"I don't know how I feel." He answered honestly after a beat of silence. "I... I've never felt anything for anyone before." Greenland had a habit of isolating her islanders, keeping them contained to their lands in a constant state of survival, even more so when one lived far from the villages. (Y/N) had been raised in the wilderness, only seeing others when they traveled into the village or were visited by their neighbors. Romance in Greenland was rare, especially if one wasn't actively seeking it, and it certainly never crossed (Y/N)'s mind before. 

Harald propped himself up onto his elbows, tenderly gazing down at him. He ran his thumb over (Y/N)'s jawline and then his lips, his eyes sweeping over every detail on his face. "I want you to know I would give anything for my love. I would do anything for them. I'd even toss aside my quest for the throne. But only if my love feels the way I do." 

"All you've wanted since we met is to be King of Norway, Harald. I don't believe you'd give it up so easily."

"It won't be easy, you're right. But if it's what my love wants..." Harald trailed off and then inhaled deeply, nodding to himself and smiling down at him. "I will gladly do it. I can prove it to you." 

"Why?" (Y/N)'s hand slipped down from Harald's hair, traversing over back muscles that flexed slightly at his touch. "I'm just a Greenlander. I am not someone you toss away the crown for."

"But you are." Harald objected, lips ghosting over (Y/N)'s chin. "And if you do not wish for me to leave my destiny, then I beg of you to be with me in court. When I am King, I will follow in Jarl Haakon's footsteps. Norway will turn into an open country where any and all faiths can be worshipped. No more hatred, no more violence." 

"That's an honorable plan, Harald." (Y/N) mumbled, brushing back one of Harald's curls. 

"What do you say?" Harald asked, tilting his head to gently kiss (Y/N)'s hand. "Will you be mine?"

"Yes." Laughter soon followed as Harald leaned back onto his knees, pulling (Y/N) along with him and peppering kisses all over his neck and shoulders. And then, the kisses turned needier and hungry, and (Y/N) knew he'd be stuck in bed a little while longer.

Later, when the day began to slip into the afternoon, Freydis informed them of a disturbance at the harbor that had unsettled the townsfolk and those visiting Kattegat. (Y/N) and Harald followed Freydis and Leif through town as the morning fog began to lift, allowing them to see much clearer. But when they stepped on the beach, (Y/N) wished it hadn't left. 

A boat had neared the shore. Empty. Unless you counted the multiple spiked heads littered around the boat or the body of a woman tied to the mast, her arms outstretched to either side in the form of a cross. White and red traditional paint covered the faces of a few of the deceased, telling those on shore that they were priests and priestesses, or more specifically, worshippers of the Old Gods. But it hadn't been the heads or the body that truly made bile rise in the back of his throat. It'd been the piercing wails of a baby.

Trudging into the cold water with his brother, he stood by the boat and inhaled the smell of dried blood. He avoided looking at the faces of the deceased and instead whispered a prayer for them. Leif carefully boarded the boat and stepped toward the mast where a basket sat, gingerly picking up the swaddled baby and handing them off to his brother. (Y/N) mimicked the way he'd seen his mother hold a child once and held the baby close to his chest, lightly bouncing the baby to keep them from fussing. The cold had turned their cheeks and nose rosy pink, a startling contrast to their pale skin and the red cross painted on their forehead with blood. If starvation didn't take them first, the chill certainly would. With that in mind, (Y/N) turned and walked back onto the beach, allowing Freydis to take them into her arms and gaze upon them.

"I know this child." She grimaced and looked up at Jarl Haakon. "Kåre did this."

At her words, Jarl Haakon's breath seemed to hitch. "Uppsala..." She whispered in cold realization, her eyes moving away from the baby and onto Freydis.

"Go. Now."

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

Riding over the hill, (Y/N) tugged on the reins of his horse and saw it in the distance; gray smoke rising through the trees. Jarl Haakon's suspicions had been right. Freydis didn't think twice in clicking her tongue and applying pressure to the sides of her horse with her calves, making it run forward toward the treeline. The others followed, the smell of burnt wood filling their senses within minutes as they arrived at the remains of the temple. Scattered around the ground were debris and bodies. Some appeared to have been cut down while fleeing, others had been tied up to posts and trees, their clothes soaked in blood and their heads limp. Nobody had been spared. Not even the children, women, or elderly. But the sight that made Freydis stop was the sight of the temple itself, nearly burned to ashes but parts of it still stood, unbroken by the rage of Christians. 

"Spread out," Leif instructed, watching his sister solemnly. "Look for survivors."

Tossing one leg over the horse, (Y/N) landed firmly on the ground and walked forward, placing his hand on Freydis's thigh to break her out of her thoughts. She glanced down at him, eyes glossed over with tears, and slipped off the saddle. (Y/N) sighed heavily and followed her up the trail leading to the temple. His gaze roamed over the carnage. The bodies seemed endless. Whenever he looked away from one, he spotted another, and then another. So many lives. So many innocents who had visited the temple seeking the wisdom and love of the Gods, only to be slaughtered. Breaking away from Freydis and Liv, he caught up with Harald and Leif, grimacing at the sight of more bodies. Crows and bugs had already begun to scavenge the remains, taking their fill. 

"Have you been here before?" Leif asked Harald, gazing at one of the bodies. It appeared smaller than the others around it. A child. They continued on, searching- hoping- for survivors. 

"No." Harald shook his head, voice soft. "I'd only heard stories."

"All of these lives lost... and all they'll be to their killers are distant memories." (Y/N) whispered and looked at the temple as they neared it. The pillars that remained had turned black from the fire, smoke still rising from the structure. He could see what remained of the inside. Just more broken and burnt debris. No longer a place of prayer and worship. 

Crouching down by the corpses of a couple and their child, Leif swallowed thickly and shook his head. "Who could hate something so much?"

"They're not killing people," Harald spoke, fingers curling into fists. "They're cleansing the land. Rubbing away all signs of our pagan past, like a stain." 

(Y/N)'s jaw clenched, unable to tear his eyes away from the fallen boy. His mother's arm had been draped over him, almost as if she had attempted to shield him from the incoming attack. Beside them, the father's hand lay stretched out toward them, perhaps reaching for them in his last moments. The sound of a twig snapping turned their attention away from the gruesome sight and Harald stood in front of (Y/N), sliding his sword out of his sheath. The three cautiously approached the large tree where the sound had come from, eyeing the disturbed branches laying on the ground. Leif reached out toward it, grasping it and quickly moving it, only to hear soft gasps from the people hiding. Three young girls. Suvuiors covered in dirt and ash. They trembled and flinched, avoiding the eyes of the men in fear.

"It's alright. We won't hurt you." Leif assured softly and offered his hand, helping the girls out of the hole one by one. 

"Come, you're safe now." Harald sheathed his swords, hands hovering over their backs to avoid further discomfort for them. They took the girls back toward the temples, stepping into the rubble of the building and toward Freydis and Liv. The two women sat on a fallen beam and stared forward at the single totem pole still standing. The Allfather. 

Jumping to her feet at the sight of the girls, Freydis breathed a sigh of relief and offered them comforting smiles. "Do not be afraid." She cooed at the youngest girl, reaching a hand out to gently touch her arm. "We are friends here."

"You are Freydis?" The little girl asked timidly.

Freydis blinked, brows furrowing. "How do you know my name?"

"Their leader told us you would come. He only spared us so we could give you his message." She explained softly and the other girls nodded to confirm her words. 

"What message?" 

"He said that God has ordered him to destroy Kattegat," She paused briefly and looked up at Freydis. "And to kill you."

Freydis leaned back and stared down at the girl, inhaling sharply. Her gaze fell onto the burnt wooden boards beneath them, a million thoughts racing through her mind no doubt. (Y/N) lifted a hand to his necklace and ran his fingers over the bones, unable to stop himself from fidgeting with them. They'd just returned from one war only to be forced directly into another. Would the violence ever end? The question repeated itself in his head when Altora, the leader of the shieldmaidens of Kattegat, approached them and shook her head. The three girls were the only survivors.

"What are we waiting for? I say we ride after Kåre and make him pay!"

"From his tracks, he has at least a hundred horsemen. We must be smart." Harald objected, glancing between the siblings. Taking his words into consideration, Freydis nodded and turned back toward Altora and the others.

"Go back to Kattegat and tell Haakon what we've found. We'll take care of the dead and follow up with the survivors." Freydis told them and Altora nodded, clicking her tongue and riding away with the rest of the shieldmaidens. 

"We need to know where Kåre is. I'll track him and meet you in Kattegat." Leif piped up, meeting his brother's eyes and giving him a reassuring smile. (Y/N) couldn't find it in himself to return it when Leif was going off on a risky mission. Kåre and his people had slaughtered a whole temple and its worshippers. Only the Gods knew what would happen to Leif if he were caught.

Noticing the look on (Y/N)'s face, Liv placed a hand on his arm. "I'll go with him. We'll watch each other's backs." She said, giving his arm a squeeze before turning toward Leif and taking in a small breath. Together, the two headed off toward the last spot they'd seen tracks. (Y/N) and Freydis watched them go before turning toward each other. 

"We camp here tonight," Freydis said, reaching out to gently cup her brother's cheek. Her eyes shifted onto Harald and they turned cold. "Build fires for the dead." Dropping her hand, she moved to walk past them.

"Freydis." Harald frowned, catching Freydis's arm and gently pulling her back. "Kåre will pay for this. I promise you justice."

"I don't need your promises. I can deliver justice myself." She muttered bitterly, ripping her arm from his hold and walking towards the girls to take them elsewhere. (Y/N) sighed and stepped toward him, resting his hand over Harald's chest and gazing into his eyes. Despite playing no hand in the slaughter, he still appeared guilty. 

"She doesn't hate you, Harald. She's hurting and taking it out on you because-"

"I'm a Christian. In her eyes, we are all the same." Harald muttered, eyes closing when (Y/N) pressed his hand against his cheek. He leaned into (Y/N)'s touch, nuzzling his cheek against his palm. 

"Well, I believe you're different, Harald." (Y/N) smiled softly and Harald's eyes opened, a small smile spreading across his face. Glancing over his shoulder, Harald surveyed the area for any eyes before looking back at (Y/N) and leaning in, giving him a kiss. When he pulled back, he pressed their foreheads together and looked deep into his lover's eyes.

"It pleases me to hear you say that." He whispered.

"Good. Come now. These people deserve a proper funeral." 

It took hours to gather the bodies as only a couple were light enough for one person to carry. The rest either had to be dragged or heaved onto the wood by two people. Slowly, fires were lit and prayers for the deceased were said. The smell of burnt meat began filling the air, drawing ravens and other scavengers that began picking at the bodies that hadn't been moved yet. It'd been a tiresome yet necessary feat. Even if the people were with their Gods, their bodies on Earth still deserved to be treated with respect. Harald kept his distance from Freydis during the funeral rituals, fearing her patience with him would snap and she'd bury her sword in him for the acts of Kåre. (Y/N) didn't blame him. He knew his sister well enough to know the thought probably crossed her mind every time she looked at him. But she refrained from hurting Harald because when she looked at her brother, she saw happiness. And that was enough for her.

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

Standing amongst the others in the Great Hall, (Y/N)'s head turned toward the doors as Leif and Liv entered, the people parting to let them pass forward. Jarl Haakon turned to look at them expectantly, but from the look on her face, she hadn't been expecting good news. 

"Olaf joined forces with Kåre," Leif revealed as he stopped before them, chest heaving. Harald's head snapped in his direction at the mention of his half-brother, brows furrowing in disbelief. (Y/N) couldn't say he was surprised when Jarl Olaf had made his distaste for them clear in the very hall they were standing in.

"Olaf?" Harald repeated and Leif nodded.

"We recognize his banners, but there are many other clans I do not know. It's a large force and growing." 

"What about appealing to friendly cities for help?" Freydis proposed, frown growing when Jarl Haakon answered her with silence.

"We have." Altora glanced at Jarl Haakon. "But many have already been crushed by Kåre."

"Then we should prepare immediately, and learn what we can about their numbers and strength."

Turning to Altora and the other shieldmaidens, Jarl Haakon ordered, "Send spies and see what they can find." But her gaze didn't remain on the women for long. Instead, it drifted onto Harald and she arched a brow. "Prince Harald. I am glad you have chosen to stay and fight with us, but it has placed you against your brother." 

At her words, (Y/N) turned his head to look at Harald. Harald's features hardened and his back straightened, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "My brother has made his choice. And I have made mine." His eyes briefly flickered to (Y/N). "I am not fighting for the throne of Norway. I am fighting for Kattegat." Harald assured her. Jarl Haakon stared at him for a moment longer, eyes squinting slightly as she searched his face for any hint of deception. When she found none, she gave a satisfied nod and turned away from him, heading deeper into the hall to speak with some of her people. 

Turning to look at them, Freydis pressed her lips together and sighed heavily. "There's much to be done." 

Preparations for the incoming invasion included many things; setting up a line of spikes in front of the tall wooden gate leading into town, arrows and bows being prepared on the wall along the gate, and food and supplies being stocked. With mountains looming on either side of Kattegat, it only left the harbor and gate as points of entry. Many of Kattegat's protectors were primarily experienced in two weapons: bows and swords. As a result, there was confidence the archers would hold back the first wave of attackers, and hopefully the second and third. (Y/N) worked alongside the others on setting up the spikes, ensuring the ropes would hold no matter how many bodies pushed and crawled over them. 

"You should take a break, (Y/N). There are many available hands to help with defenses." 

"You didn't come here to tell me that, Harald." (Y/N) murmured and rose up, giving the wooden spike a shake and humming when it proved sturdy enough. Tilting his head up to look at Harald, he spoke, "What did you wish to speak about?"

"If my brother sets eyes on you, he'll go after you. I don't want you getting hurt because of him." Harald stepped closer, glancing at the others working around them. "Olaf will surely try to kill you or your brother and sister. He's a vain, self-centered, power-seeking man. He'll do anything to get the upper hand, even if it means hurting me."

"Vain, self-centered, and power-seeking... I can see why you're brothers. You've got a lot in common." Patting Harald's chest, (Y/N) headed back into town, approaching the large logs set up to be shaped into spikes. Harald followed after him, picking up one of the axes laying beside the logs. 

"You're not taking this seriously." Harald hissed softly.

"I am, Harald. Kattegat is in danger and your brother has joined forces with the enemy, and they just so happen to share the same hatred toward my family. But I am not going to worry about what could happen." Placing the log to lean against the table, (Y/N) took the axe from Harald's hands. "If you're so worried about me, just stay by my side."

Gaze softening, Harald brushed his hand against (Y/N)'s. "I always do." 

A horn sounded off and their attention turned upward to one of the men stationed on top of the gate. "Riders approach! Our scouts are returning!" He bellowed. (Y/N) stepped forward with Harald, his grip on the axe tightening as the horses passed through the gates. Their riders were limp against them, arrows sticking out of their backs. Harald stepped in front of the horses, calling out softly to the frightened animals. They came to a slow stop in front of him, huffing and whining. (Y/N) looked over each rider, checking for signs of life but finding none in all of them.

"We must find out their strength. If they are weak, we should not be waiting in here, but attacking before their forces grow stronger." Harald voiced, staring after the horses as they were led to the stables and their riders were dragged off them.

Freydis nodded. "I'll go with you."

"We can spare neither of you." Leif gave them both hard looks and the two frowned but remained silent. "Let's get back to work."

Despite his disappointment and irritation in being denied, Harald resumed work with (Y/N), silently cutting the logs until they sharpened enough to cause damage. While his unusual silence worried (Y/N), he didn't wish to press on the issue and irritate Harald further. Their relationship was still fresh and while (Y/N) lacked experience in romance, he knew Harald would need some space and a distraction. They worked until the sun began to lower down and Jarl Haakon called a gathering for everyone to meet her in the center of town, asking someone to serve as a messenger to Odin and when someone offered, Harald's nerves only increased. So, after some convincing, (Y/N) and Harald returned to the inn and settled in for the night.

Harald, however, waited for (Y/N) to fall asleep before getting dressed again and sitting down beside the bed. He watched him peacefully sleep, occasionally sighing into his pillow and shifting around. The sight made a smile tug at his lips and his worries ceased for a second before he remembered what loomed over them, what loomed over him. There was so much to lose for him. And so much to possibly gain. With his mind made up, he stood up from the bed and fastened his sword to his hip. Slipping off his necklace and setting it on the bed near (Y/N)'s hand, he whispered an apology and kissed his temple.

Then, he left Kattegat.

[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 Æthelred!" 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. 

[bumblesimagines]

Under The Moonlight

Part 3

Request: Yes or No

I've got mixed feelings about this part ngl

~~~

They invaded the small kingdom of Kent first, swarming in and overwhelming the small, unprepared army.

Screams and war cries filled the air, metal clashing against metal and blood coating the ground as bodies fell. The noises around him faded into background noise as (Y/N) dug his dagger into one man's neck, the force knocking back his metal helmet, his bright blue eyes fearfully staring into (Y/N)'s despite having brazenly charged at him just moments prior. Ripping his blade out, (Y/N) turned away before the body could even hit the ground. Catching sight of his brother, (Y/N) moved forward, reaching down to pick up a discarded spear and leaning back before launching it forward, impaling the man charging at Leif.

"Behind!" Leif shouted and (Y/N) whirled around, narrowly missing the sword aiming toward his stomach. It sliced his side and he stumbled back, grunting softly at the pain and pressing a hand to his side. Before he could respond to the attack, an axe dug into the back of the guard's unprotected head, his eyes going blank. (Y/N) blinked and watched the body slump forward, blood splattering onto his boots. A blood-soaked Harald stood before him, bare chest heaving and lips pulled into a sneer. His eyes were wide and filled with bloodlust, his teeth bared and his body completely soaked in the blood of his kills. For a split second when Harald's eyes met his, (Y/N) felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. But as the screams and shouts around them slowly eased into cheers and cries of victory, Harald began to calm down, taking in deep breaths. His stiff muscles relaxed and he exhaled deeply, letting the bloodied axe slip from his fingers. 

"Are you alright?" Harald breathed, his voice hoarse. He stepped over the Saxon he'd killed and pulled the wolf skin from his head, holding it in one hand and reaching out toward him to check on his wound. But (Y/N) tilted his body to dodge his touch, eyes falling down to his red-stained arm. 

"Don't touch me." (Y/N) whispered, fingers tightening around his dagger. He bowed his head to avoid Harald's gaze, eyes finding the deceased man again. If he had gotten in his way, could that have been him? Harald stared at him with parted lips, his brows twitching and furrowing as his eyes softened. His shoulders slumped.

"(Y/N)-"

"Are you okay?" Leif asked, gently prying his bloody hand away from his side. Leif inspected the wound as best as he could over the layer of clothes, carefully pressing against it and grimacing when (Y/N) winced. "We should tend to it soon."

"We should check on the others first." (Y/N) murmured, glancing back at Harald before regrouping with his equally exhausted and bloody friends. Ulf and Skarde appeared fine; the two men laughed together, exchanging tips and recounting how they attacked the Saxons. Njal had stained cloth wrapped around his hand and he lowered his gaze when he noticed (Y/N) looking at it.

"Are you hurt?" (Y/N) sheathed his dagger, stepping closer and gently touching his hand. The tall man grunted and nodded, allowing (Y/N) to gently look over his hand. Feeling fingers suddenly press into his wound, (Y/N) recoiled and hissed, smacking away the woman's hand as his lips formed a small pout.

"Fuck, Liv!"

"You're hurt." She observed, frowning at him and resting her hands on her hips like a mother would when scolding her child. The brunette huffed softly and turned toward the two young men who had now begun playfully bickering, reaching over to smack the back of Ulf's head and grab his attention

"Go find a lit torch." She ordered him, rolling her eyes at the kicked-puppy look Ulf sent her as he rubbed the back of his head and sulked off. Skarde snickered, following after his friend and continuing to boast about his skills.

"I'm fine, really." (Y/N) assured her but Liv simply crossed her arms in return, lifting her brows at him. Grumbling under his breath, (Y/N) looked away from her and back toward Leif, spotting Harald walking away from the man and toward King Canute. He watched the prince disappear down the street with the King, feeling a mixture of emotions. He still couldn't pinpoint why Harald seemed so focused on helping him and his family. They had nothing to offer him of value and (Y/N) was sure a prince like Harald could just lift his hand and get whatever he desired without even having to utter a word.

"Thank him next time you see him," Leif told him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side, being mindful of his wound. "We did well today, didn't we?"

"Freydis would be proud of us."

Within the hour, the army had taken over the kingdom and celebrated its victory with feasts and drinks, crowding in buildings and resting as they stuffed their faces and drank until they emptied barrels. Liv had quickly taken care of (Y/N)'s wound after pressing a heated blade to his skin and offering him a drink for his grievances.

Leaning against the wall and watching his friends laugh and celebrate, (Y/N) smiled softly. One man even gifted Njal a small bag of coins in return for helping him during the raid. With his cup empty and his head beginning to reel from all the noise, (Y/N) set his cup down and followed his brother outside for some fresh air.

Inhaling the smell of blood and rain, (Y/N) looked toward the gray skies and for once hoped for the rain to wash away his stained clothes. Hearing a soft grunt, he tilted his head downward and spotted Harald, now sporting a semi-clean shirt. He held a spear in his hands, impaling those laying on the ground to ensure they were dead. His face lacked his typical smile or smirk, instead replaced by a concentrated and almost furious look. Leif watched him curiously, eventually catching Harald's attention. The man sighed and offered him a smile, although it faltered slightly when he looked at (Y/N).

"You both fought well for your first battle." Harald praised, approaching another body. "Raiding becomes you."

"I can see why our father was so good-" Leif paused as Harald impaled the body. "-at killing. He had practice."

"Thank you, Harald. For helping me." (Y/N) quietly spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing at the prince. His heart constricted again. Harald paused, one foot on top of another body and hands lifted midair. His eyes darted over to the young man, brows raising in surprise. Slowly lowering his arms, he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Of course." A genuine smile finally appeared on his face. The caution in (Y/N) eased at the sight of it. "We have to look out for each other. I'm sure you would've done the same."

"I thought Christians were supposed to be merciful?" Leif motioned to the trail of corpses Harald had impaled.

"We are." Harald nodded, bringing the spear down on the body, a barely audible grunt leaving the fallen soldier. "But I am Viking first." Walking away from them, he called out as he strolled toward the next closest body. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I see little difference," Leif responded, watching the bloodied prince continue the routine.

"As a Viking, my goal is revenge. But as a Christian, I employ the virtues my Savior taught me; forgiveness, mercy, and love." Harald explained, pressing the tip of the spear against the back of a gurgling soldier. "I forgive this Saxon for following his king into an unholy war. I show him mercy-" Lifting the spear up, he brought it down and ceased the gurgling. "-by ending his pain."

"And what about love?"

Smirking at the brothers, Harald answered easily. "I love doing it."

Features hardening at his love for bloodshed, Leif shook his head. "We didn't come here to become more like our father."

"You came here so the world would forget about him and remember you. You think that is a secret?" Harald lifted his brows at Leif, a small amused grin tugging at his lips. (Y/N) scoffed softly, dropping his arms to his side.

"That is not why I came here. I came here for my sister. To ensure her safety. If I had it my way, we'd be back home instead of fighting alongside Christians who attempt to justify the violence they commit despite it going against their precious 'beliefs'. Tell me, Prince," (Y/N) spat out the title with enough venom it made Harald's face fall. "Do you think the Christian who burned down my home believed he was forgiving me for not believing in his false god? Did he take mercy on me by trying to kill me? Cause I know he must've loved doing it seeing as he laughed throughout it all."

"I-"

"You all view us and treat us the same; like wild animals that need to be tamed or put down. I believe you are no different. You stand by the very men who believe killing us instead of simply leaving us be is forgiveness and then smile to our faces as if all is well. I doubt what Gunnar did to my sister came as such a surprise seeing as you were quite close to him." (Y/N) snapped at the taken-aback prince and scoffed once more, shaking his head and turning around.

Letting his feet blindly lead him away from the two men, he slipped through alleys and moved over bodies, some dead others drunken until he found open space away from the buildings. Looking out over the vast farmlands, (Y/N) inhaled deeply and looked up at the drifting clouds. He could still feel the warmth of the fire against his skin, the smell and taste of the smoke, and the burning sting of a knife digging into his skin. Pressing a hand to his chest, he squeezed his eyes shut and slowly breathed, trying to repress the memories of that dreaded day.

With the exhaustion of the past few days finally catching up to him, (Y/N) sunk down onto the ground and brought his knees up, resting his arms on them. He continued watching the clouds, quietly asking the Gods above for guidance and strength. His soft praying slowly fell silent when he heard the clicking of hooves against the gravel and he turned his head, spotting Harald approaching him with two horses. 

"We'll be moving on tomorrow morning but I wanted to give you something before we left," Harald said as he stopped in front of him, releasing one of the horses to offer (Y/N) his hand. (Y/N)'s brows furrowed and he pushed himself off the ground, ignoring Harald's still outstretched hand. Harald let it drop to his side.

"What is it?"

"It's a long walk from Kent to London," Harald told him, nodding to the sturdy brown mare beside him. White and gray fur had been draped over her back, her black mane swaying with the soft breeze. (Y/N) remained silent, eyes flickering between her and Harald as his brows furrowed further. 

"Have you ridden a horse before?" Harald questioned, offering him the reins to the mare. Hesitantly, he took the reins from him and carefully pulled the mare toward him. The mare huffed softly and leaned her face toward his, bringing a chuckle out of the Greenlander as he leaned his head away from her to escape her curious sniffing. A small smile broke out on Harald's face as he watched them.

Gently tugging the reins and pulling the mare's face away from him, (Y/N) nodded, bringing a hand to gently stroke her white and brown snout. "Of course, I've ridden before." 

"Good. You can have her." Harald offered, causing (Y/N)'s widened eyes to snap in his direction. "See it as an apology for offending you earlier."

"But-"

"I'll see you in the morning, (Y/N)." Harald smiled again, tugging on the reins of his own horse and pulling him along as he headed back, leaving the Greenlander to stare after him.

                    ➸        ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸       ➸

Feeding sticks into the fire, (Y/N) listened to it crackle loudly, the embers floating high toward the sky. Liv sat beside him on the log, warming her hands and preparing herself for a chilly night as she quietly spoke to Leif. The other Greenlanders prepared their camping spot, draping furs over propped-up logs. Skarde held the mare's reins, gently stroking her snout. 

"We should name her," Skarde proposed, turning his head toward them with a smile. 

"You shouldn't get attached, Skarde. We'll likely never see her again after the war." Liv warned, the light from the flame illuminating her peach-colored skin and green eyes. "Besides, she belongs to (Y/N)." 

"Name her if you want." (Y/N) muttered, shrugging his shoulders. The sound of crunching leaves and twigs made him look away from the fire, noticing Harald growing closer to them. The prince stared at Skarde and the mare, lips twitching as he held back an amused grin at his fascination for the horse. Clearing his throat, he looked down at (Y/N).

"Scouts will be sent out through the marsh and Jarl Olaf wishes for you two to lead the party," Harald explained, shifting his gaze onto Leif.

"Us?" Leif stood up, lifting his brows in surprise and glancing down at his brother.

"We need to know the enemy's strength around the bridge. It is an honor to lead such a mission." Harald continued as the Greenlanders exchanged perplexed and suspicious glances. Jarl Olaf had made his distaste for them clear and he appeared to dislike the brothers even more for their role in the murder of his friend.

"If it is such an honor, why didn't your brother pick you?" Njal questioned, stepping away from the tent to walk closer to Harald as (Y/N) stood up and dusted himself off. Ulf hummed, nudging Njal with his elbow.

"Maybe he thinks Greenland is a swamp?" Ulf and Njal shared a loud laugh. But Liv appeared far from amused as she stood up and faced Leif.

"Or maybe he wants you two dead." She chimed in, making the two men stop, their smiles dropping at her worried words.

Nodding and looking at Harald, (Y/N) spoke, "Your brother seemed far from pleased with the outcome of the trial, and sending us to our deaths would be justice enough for him, would it not?"

"Perhaps," Harald nodded. "But I will be going as well." He added softly. Leif sighed, retrieving his axe from the ground and walking past his friends to stand beside his brother. He glanced at his brother, giving him a nod.

"We came to repay a debt. We'll do what is ordered." Leif stated. (Y/N) pursed his lips and sighed, nodding to show his compliance. Njal and the other Greenlanders looked at each other before looking back at their trusted friends.

"Then we will be with you," Njal spoke, lifting his axe and being quickly followed by Ulf. Skarde took a moment to tie the horse before joining their small group with a dorky smile. And with some hesitance, Liv stepped in to join them as well. Harald nodded, turning around and leading them through the camp. Meeting up with the other members of the scouting party, everyone prepared for the trek through the marsh before setting off in its direction.

The marches expanded far toward the horizon, the trill of insects and squishing of damp dirt filling the air, with some occasional groans and curses when someone got their foot stuck in the mud. (Y/N) found himself missing the ocean as they continued walking, finding the mushy ground unbearable to deal with. At least on a boat, they could rest and the water would keep them clean. Swatting away at a fly buzzing near his ear, (Y/N) grunted softly and received an amused grin from his brother. Up ahead, a man walked toward them with a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Who is he?" Njal asked but Harald glanced back at them reassuringly.

"Our guide. He's local. Don't worry, his mother was a Dane murdered on Saint Brice's Day." Harald told them, turning to shake the man's hand. The guide handed him a bag and Harald reached in, pulling out a torch.

"Why do we need them?" Leif asked, taking the bag from Harald and retrieving a torch for himself. (Y/N) picked one out, handing the bag off to the others for them to do the same.

"The tide and fog are coming in. You will need them to see the path." The guide explained, urging them forward with a nod. He began leading them off the path and through the tall grass, pushing it away and pressing down on the ground with his feet to form a walkable trail. Despite the local's frail appearance, something about him made (Y/N) feel queasy.

But his words proved to be true as night fell and a fog rolled in, keeping the moonlight from illuminating their way. The torches were quickly lit and held high to provide enough light for them to see ahead. Leif began to eye their guide and when he looked at his brother, he knew (Y/N) shared similar suspicions. 

"How close are we?" Leif asked and the guide paused to look back at him. With everyone stopping behind him, (Y/N) could hear the insects more clearly. And something else sloshing about in the water at their side.

"You'll know you're near the bridge when you can hell the bells of London." The guide answered and began walking again.

"We're not alone." (Y/N) whispered, grabbing his brother's arm. Leif stood still, holding his breath, eyes widening when he heard the sloshing as well. The guide turned to face them but before he could speak, arrows pierced his chest and stomach. 

"Get down!" Leif hollered. "It's a trap!" 

Dropping down on his hunches, (Y/N) heard the grunt and gurgle of someone behind them getting hit. Harald lifted his shield, blocking some arrows as he ducked down beside them. Ordering everyone to get rid of their torches, Harald tossed his before yanking (Y/N)'s from his grip and tossing it as well. The grass around them caught fire, revealing the archers on small boats floating in the water beside their path. The sound of arrows being shot echoed through the night air and someone else grunted. 

"Ulf!" Liv's scream made (Y/N)'s blood run cold and he leaned forward to look around Leif, a shakey exhale escaping him when he spotted his dear friend with an arrow through his neck. Throwing his axe through the air, Leif hit one of the Saxons before charging forward and knocking another one off the boat and into the water.

Crawling through the flattened grass and mud-covered ground, (Y/N) reached Ulf and gently cradled his face in his hands. Liv sobbed, attempting to hold her trembling hands over his blood-soaked neck but the damage had been done. Ulf stared up at them with wide eyes, weakly attempting to speak but choking on his own blood and spitting out droplets that splattered on (Y/N) and Liv's faces.

"Fall back!" Harald ordered and Skarde scrambled toward them, wrapping his arms around Liv's waist. 

"We have to leave him!" Skarde urged, attempting to pull her away but she refused, wildly kicking around and crying until Njal reached them and used his bigger frame to heave her up and take her back to safety. (Y/N) felt his eyes water, lips trembling as he stared down at Ulf. 

"(Y/N), come on!" Skarde shouted, ducking when an arrow whizzed past his head and quickly following after Njal and Liv.

"I'm so sorry, Ulf. I'm sorry." (Y/N) whispered, placing his hands on each side of Ulf's face and slightly lifting his head. In one quick motion, he heard a sickening crack and Ulf went limp in his hands, eyes going blank and staring up at the night sky. Sniffling softly, he lifted his head and looked toward the water, searching for his brother in the midst of the chaos. When he couldn't spot him, more panic shot through him and he quickly stumbled to his feet.

"Leif?!"

"Come on!" Harald wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him away from the water and the soldiers. 

"Where's my brother?! Harald!" (Y/N) shouted and squirmed but the prince refused to let him go, dragging him through the grass despite his kicking and shouting. Even when (Y/N) broke free, Harald caught him again and tightened his grip until they stumbled out of the marsh with the others. Roughly pulling his arm out of Harald's hold, only Liv's sobbing kept him from going back into the marshes in search of Leif. (Y/N) panted softly and wrapped his sore arms around the brunette, letting her lean against him as they returned to camp and away from the marsh.

By the time they reached camp, the sun had risen and Harald had made a beeline toward the main tent, fury rolling off him in waves. The remaining Greenlanders staggered toward their tent as reality set in. They had lost two of their own. They'd have to reunite with the others in Kattegat and inform them of Ulf's death. They'd have to return home to Ulf's family and explain why he couldn't be with them. Njal slumped down on the log, blankly staring forward as Liv wiped her tear-stained cheeks. 

"Leif is strong." She mumbled hoarsely, slowly lowering down on one of the stools. "He'll... He'll find us." 

"Liv's right." Skarde nodded tiredly, sitting beside Njal and releasing a heavy sigh. He ran a hand through his dirty curls, eyes closing briefly.

"I'm not waiting around." (Y/N) muttered, looking down at his blood-stained hands. He could still vividly see the tears in Ulf's face, his pained whimpers, and the fear shown on his face. Death wasn't the end, they all knew that. But in the face of it could they truly feel at peace even as the cold gripped their bodies and they took their last breath? (Y/N) grimaced at the thought. 

"If he was alive, he'd be out." (Y/N) looked at Harald over his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. Harald walked toward him, letting his gaze drop to look over the other Greenlanders before looking back at (Y/N). "He wouldn't want you to risk your life for him. Stay here in camp where it is safe."

"Easy for you to say when it's not your brother's life at risk." (Y/N) sneered and walked forward, ignoring Harald's calls for him. He could hear the prince groan and say something to his friends but (Y/N) only quickened his pace. Pushing his way through camp, (Y/N) headed off in the direction of the marshes, determined to at least make an attempt, an effort. He couldn't sit around, not when Leif would do the same for him. 

(Y/N) made some distance between him and camp before he heard the sound of crunching and footsteps following him. He glanced back, expecting to see one of his friends but instead saw Harald and he huffed softly, shaking his head. The dark-haired prince caught up to him, narrowly tripping over his own feet in doing so but his hand successfully caught (Y/N)'s wrist. Before he could speak, (Y/N) whirled around and shoved him back, forcing the prince to release him and stumble backward. Catching himself, Harald blinked in surprise before scowling.

"What have I done to you for you to despise me so much? What more do I have to do for you to realize I mean you no harm? For you to trust me?"

"Why should I trust you? Because you believe yourself to be a hero? Because sooner or later you'll ask us to repay our debt to you? Why should I put my trust in a Christian? You surround yourself with men who've slaughtered their own people for who they choose to put faith in. You surround yourself with men like Gunnar. Men like your brother. Why should I believe you're any different from them? I was a child when one of your Christ-loving friends put a torch to my home and tried to kill me... I was a child, Harald." (Y/N)'s voice turned breathless, his eyes beginning to burn with fresh tears. The fire, the pain, the cries. A memory he relived in his nightmares.

Inhaling deeply, (Y/N) swiped his tongue over his dry lips and exhaled. "What is it that you want from us, Harald? Do you wish to convert us? Turn us away from the Gods that have cared for us? Or do you want Freydis-"

"I don't want Freydis, (Y/N)... I want your trust. I want you to be comfortable around me. I wish no harm upon you. You are... intriguing. And resilient and strong... and kind." Harald took slow steps forward, keeping his voice soft and gentle as he spoke. Once he stood in front of the Greenlander, he lifted his hand and reached toward his face, pausing when (Y/N) frowned. But when (Y/N) made no indication of moving, he gently brushed his fingers against (Y/N)'s cheek, wiping away some dirt and blood before pressing his palm against his skin. "I admire you. I admire your abilities and... I admire the way you care for your family and friends. Despite what you may say and do, I believe you'll watch my back in battle because I trust you. I only wish for you to trust me too... Because you are frightening and smart and..." Harald trailed off, his words dying on his tongue.

The way Harald stared at him made his skin burn. (Y/N) only knew to expect the worst from strangers, especially those with crosses. And yet, standing there before Harald and allowing him to be kind to him felt... right. The doubts in his mind remained but perhaps... he could ignore them for now. He could allow someone else in, even if he was a Christian. (Y/N) inhaled and tilted his head ever so slightly, pressing his cheek against Harald's palm. His touch was grounding and warm. It filled (Y/N) with a sense of comfort. Harald's features brightened at his movement and (Y/N)'s skin warmed even more.

"I didn't follow you out here to stop you from finding your brother. I followed you because we're going to do it together." Harald explained and allowed his hand to linger, as if afraid that when he pulled away, the moment would end.

"And why would you do that?" (Y/N) couldn't help but ask softly, feeling a longing sensation bubble in his chest when Harald lowered his hand.

"Because I won't abandon one of my own," Harald answered gently and smiled, taking a step back and motioning to the marshes. "We should get going."

They moved through the long grass as quietly as possible, keeping their footsteps light and quick, even as they got back on the path they'd taken the day before. The Saxons would likely patrol more frequently after the ambush, but with the fog still clinging onto the marsh, the two Vikings could slip by unnoticed. They came across their first two Saxons at the place of the ambush and parted ways, using the long grass to keep them hidden. (Y/N) remained close to the ground, his feet and legs growing heavy as more mud clung to him. But his eyes remained on the Saxon and when he turned his back, (Y/N) slipped his dagger out and moved forward with swiftness, clamping his hand around the man's mouth and cleanly slicing his throat. Behind him, he heard a grunt and looked over his shoulder, spotting the second Saxon falling limp onto the ground. His attention didn't linger on him for long.

"Leif..." His brother was alive. Dazed and bruised but alive. (Y/N) didn't think twice about rushing over to him and dropping down to his knees, hands gently cradling Leif's dirt-covered face. Leif cringed and groaned softly, lifting a hand to the back of his head and rubbing it with a wince. And despite his pain, he smiled weakly at the sight of his brother.

"I thought I died." He grunted, holding onto his brother's arms as (Y/N) helped him onto his feet. Leif heaved softly, eyes squinted from the pain in his head. (Y/N) rubbed his thumb back and forth over Leif's arm, searching him over for any other injuries. When he found nothing other than bruises, he sighed in relief. 

"But you didn't. The Gods must have a plan for you." Harald grinned, patting Leif's arm before he turned his sights onto one of the small boats still floating in the water. (Y/N) couldn't help but frown at the way his grin widened. Trudging into the water and gripping the side of the rowboat, Harald inspected it and hummed to himself. 

"You've got a plan?" Leif asked, letting go of his brother and watching the prince push the boat closer to land.

"We're going to find out about the bridge. One way or another." Harald said and climbed onto the boat, motioning for the brothers to do the same as he reached for a floating spear. Leif sighed and stepped forward, getting on the boat and waiting for (Y/N) to do the same before sitting down. Once they were situated, Harald began rowing through the river, seeming to have a general understanding of where they needed to go. Leif stared forward, keeping an eye out for them.

"How many did we lose?"

"Six."

"Including Ulf." (Y/N) muttered, staring down at the ripples in the water. Leif remained silent, bowing his head and inhaling deeply.

"Canute thinks the Saxons are daring us to attack London from the south," Harald told them, hoping a change of topic would keep their minds off their departed friend for the moment.

"And what do you think?"

"I don't know. But I want to find out." Harald murmured, lifting the spear from the water and staring up ahead at a small dock with Saxon guards stationed at it. Leif reached toward the grasses beside them, tugging on them to pull the boat closer to land. Harald quickly stepped off the boat and kept low, extending an arm toward (Y/N) and helping him climb onto the land without making a disturbance. People walked alongside the river, appearing to be heading somewhere in search of shelter and supplies. Harald reached up to his hair and undid his buns, shaking his head and running his fingers through it. The three climbed up the bank and slipped into the crowd of people, casually following along with them. 

The road and people led them right where they needed to go. The bridge leading to London. Soldiers stood before the entrance, handing out food and supplies to those who asked for it. Others continued forward onto the bridge, likely searching for a place to stay until the war ended. (Y/N) slowed down as a woman approached them with a basket full of vegetables. She tilted her head at them, eyeing Leif specifically before speaking in a language (Y/N) could hardly understand. But he caught a couple of words when Harald spoke back to her. Friend, Vikings, children, and wife. (Y/N) dug his teeth into his bottom lip, watching the woman buy into whatever Harald had told her. She frowned at them and made a cross before offering them both a vegetable. (Y/N) took the large carrot she offered him and nodded in thanks before following Harald toward the bridge.

"You told her we were attacked by Vikings?" (Y/N) questioned with raised brows, lips pulling into an amused smile.

"You understand Old English?"

"Some words. Mother taught me what she knew." (Y/N) shrugged lightly, the sound of their footsteps amplifying as they stepped onto the wooden bridge with the wave of Saxons. (Y/N) handed the carrot off to an elderly man and observed the bridge, searching for anything that appeared like a weak spot. It seemed well-built and sturdy despite its age. 

"Stop right there!" A guard called, lifting his shield and approaching them. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat but the guard only merely looked at them before turning his head and calling out, "Lift!" 

Part of the bridge began to rise, allowing for a boat to pass through the river and exposing part of the underside of the bridge. Leif took a small step forward, closely looking over the support beams holding the bridge up. (Y/N) watched him, practically seeing the gears turning in his head. Leif turned to look at them, lips quirking up into a smile. 

"I've got a plan."