#fargrimr

[hysterialevi]

HELLBLADE 2 PORTRAITS

[sheigarche]

I haven't seen anyone talking about this here so I decided to bring it up.

Have you guys noticed the possibility that the draugar in the game are actually the tribe of northmen who attacked Senua's village mentioned in the first Hellblade?

I mean, they're not undead from the underworld, Senua sees them that way because it's her interpretation of their despicable actions.

But when she sees the sacrifices in Freyslaug, one of the Furies makes a comparison saying that what happened to her people was happening again there. The same modus operandi so to speak.

And, from Thórgestr and Fargrimr's reaction to the massacre, we can see that this was not a common behavior for other tribes. That was a draugar thing.

So the draugar are actually a tribe whose ritualistic beliefs was so far gone that other tribes began to fear and fight them off.

I don't think Senua ever made the connection, since in the final fights the voices kept blaming the Björgs for killing Dillion and her village, even though the other narrators clarified that it wasn't them in that case.

Maybe if there's a Hellblade 3, she can uncover that side of the story as well.

[crisicsgames]

HELLBLADE 2 NELLA FORESTA PROVA 🛑🤯 MENTALI ♾️BORGARVIRKI 🎮 XBOX SERIES X 60fps

[brynnmclean]

Fargrímr Narration for Huldufólk (4/6)

Someone very helpfully posted a video on Youtube of comparisons between all the Narrators in Hellblade: Senua’s Saga. Last night, I finished writing down all the quotes for the Others / NPC Narrators, for reference. Hope it is interesting and useful to other people!

Spoilers for the game overall, but all the narration quotes for Chapter 4 Huldufólk under the cut:

Proof she had been chosen, I saw it.  She tried to hide it from us, but I saw the way she listened to the things I could not hear.  I knew they would take her.  The Hiddenfolk, our only chance, the only thing the giants fear.  This seiðkona, she could reach them, they would see.  I wasn’t sure, not quite, that she would survive.

-

Once she had shown her promise, they took her down into their world, into the depths where none of us had gone.  I was afraid for her, my last hope.  But if she could not survive their trials, she couldn’t help us.  

I sound callous.  I didn’t want to hurt her, but we were in such need.  I saw no other way.  It was worth a chance.

-

I feel the weight of the ones who died, lost to the giants, the earth that cracks and shivers.  I failed them, brought them here and didn’t know how to save them.  My people.  But most of all my wife and child.

-

Some time I will have to face them, the ones I lost.  Turn my face to them and open my eyes. I’m so sorry I let you down, my life, my love.

-

She had her demons, too, and now they gathered all around.  The time is now.

-

It’s not just a test of will, or wit.  They want to see your steel.

-

Sacrifices must have meaning.  And she was a warrior.  It was her pride, her strength, all she had to offer up.  She fought so hard to find it, find her sword.  It was everything.  Giving it up made her nothing again.

-

These creatures, they were sent to test her.  Nothing lives down here.  They’re made of darkness, and the ones she’s fought before—They’re her monsters, just her own.  But she has shown her wisdom and her strength.  And now the hidden ones call her onward.  She is close now.

-

They are here now, all around us.  You’ll never see them.  Just catching glimpses in the corner of your eyes.  We need them, the beautiful ones.  A world that’s free of worry, hunger, death.  How can we live without that promise?  

-

She was the one.  She could see through the mask, the terrible monster that all dark feelings make us.  She saw the truth of the giant, the things that loss can do to us, twist us, crucify us.  It might have been me.  I don’t know what held me back.  

-

We all have names.  Ours have two meanings.  We take our fathers’ on, a burden of expectation.  Mine means Wanderer’s Mask.  I have lived up to it.  I’ve wandered the world.  And I wear a mask.  Don’t we all?

-

She’s going to stop the Goði.  The hidden ones have opened up the way.  It’s not about blood, it’s showing them the truth.  No more giants means no more sacrifices.  

But I was uneasy, didn’t trust the Goði or Thórgestr’s confidence.  I wanted more assurance.  So I brought the light of Ástríðr.

Full List: 1) Reykjanestá [Thórgestr] | 2) Freyslaug [Thórgestr] | 3) Rauðhólar [Fargrímr] | 4) Huldufólk [Fargrímr] | 5) Bárðarvik [Ástríðr] | 6) Borgarvirki [The Goði / Thórgestr]

[focusandthefuries]

The Unspoken Journey of The Northman and The Mad Woman: Chapter 1

Senua felt a chill run down her arms as her knees sank deeper into the rocky shore. Her head bowed in front of what used to be the skull of a giant. What once was a monster, what once was a man, now nothing but stone. He had paid for his betrayal with his blood, and the village folk had paid with theirs for casting him out. She hoped that he would rest easy now. That they would all rest easy.

She had dragged him from the darkness as she had done for herself.

The wind danced across her skin and she could feel herself slipping into the deep exhaustion that settled into her bones. She wasn’t sure if she had the strength to do this for another time, but she knew she had to find it anyways. She would defeat these giants, save these people. Stop the wicked roots that turned the Northmen into slavers.

She had to. Maybe then the ones she had lost would stop calling to her. She could atone her failure to them once and for all. Instead of death, she could bring peace.

She felt alone there amongst the jagged rocks. As alone as she had always been.

She knew she had to get up, the voices in her head were sure to tell her that soon. The stench of blood, ash, and the sea burned her nostrils.

You weren’t alone with Dillion.

Did he count for nothing?

Why didn’t you save him like you saved them?

If you saved him, you wouldn’t be alone.

Before The Furies could utter another word, Senua was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of someone fast approaching. A calloused hand rested gently upon her shoulder, and another one wrapped around her arm. She felt herself being drawn upwards. A touch with such tenderness. A kind she hadn’t felt in years.

She looked up to meet the eyes of a man she nearly killed a mere fortnight or two ago. A slave master. A man who ravaged her lands. A man afflicted by darkness, just as she had been.

Darkness

Look at his arms. Where is the darkness?

It’s there don’t you see it.

Do you see the darkness, Senua?

Where is it? It's vanished.

“It weakens you. Each death.” He spoke, his voice a deep rumble tinged with what sounded like concern. The observation, while obvious, caused a swell of doubt within her. She felt shame at her weakness. One so consuming she had to break away from his gaze.

Senua blinked slowly. The Furies were right. Where was the darkness? She noticed glimpses of it still, peaking just above the leather that adorned his forearms, but where had the rest of it gone?

It was his next words that caught her off guard. “Does it hurt you?” she glanced back to his face, searching his once icy eyes for any hint that the concern she thought she heard was misplaced. She did not find one, and simply shook her head no, despite The Furies in her head reminding her that she was, in fact, in agony.

The more he spoke, the more The Furies became active in her mind. They always seemed to, around him. She was becoming transfixed by him. The thin lines of ink that traced the features of his face. The strand of hair that had fallen out of place from the wind.

“Can you keep going ?” Her attempt at deception did not go unnoticed, though he didn’t fault her for her pride. “Yes.” She finally muttered. No more, no less. She was trying to convince herself more than him at this point.

A strand?

He was just in battle.

Only a strand?

Had he fixed it before finding her?

“I believe in you.” The words carried such weight that Senua nearly collapsed under them. He believed in her. Her initial reaction was to doubt, but here he was. All alone with her, standing at the grave site of the giant. He was the only one standing here with her. Fargrimr and Ástríor both nowhere to be seen, though she was sure they were alive.

This is..

Different.

This is different.

He is different.

Senua had felt it too, of course. Ever since he threw the spear that pierced Illtauga’s body and picked her up off the ground. He’d saved her then, even haphazardly standing in front of her, blocking Illtauga’s gaze, screaming for her to go. Why had he done that? She did not know. Days before he was calling her a mad woman for marching into a settlement decimated by draugrs. Had hurled blades at her. Yet there he was. Protecting her.

She was not used to being protected.

The emotion was still swirling within as they wandered off in search of the other members of their party. She felt sparks flying through her when his hand once again came down against her back. It could easily be passed off as a friendly gesture, but Senua wasn’t so certain that was the touch’s intention.

Neither was Thórgestr.

The air was thick between them, but not unpleasant. It took some time before the pair were reunited with the others. Fargrimr was found first. He was catching his breath, leaning against the cool walls of the cliff side. Ástríor was more elusive. She was found back within the confines of her newly safe village. She had helped those injured back to their homes. To their waiting wives and children. She then began a fire. Her village did not have much, but she felt a feast of what they did have was in order. For morale and to make sure the injured began to heal.

Senua observed her with a smile. Ástríor appeared so jovial, drinking and dancing with her people. When Senua first met Ástríor, she did not know if she’d be able to gain her spirits back. Senua had never been so happy to be wrong.

Ástríor approached the trio, inviting them to join festivities. Her eyes lingered hesitantly on Thórgestr. She did not trust him as far as a child could throw a spear. However, he had undoubtedly assisted her in slowing down the giant before Senua had done whatever it was she had done. So for tonight, he may feast. Though one wrong move would end with a dagger in his throat.

Thórgestr could sense the tension. These people had many reasons to distrust him. He understood that and did not push to be included. Instead, once he got his portion of food, he hobbled over to a fallen log at the edge of the gathering’s perimeter. He winced as he sat, the injury to his leg acting up once again.

There was so much warmth here by the fire, unlike where they were going. He wanted the bloodshed to stop. He wanted the tyrant to die; however, he did not want Senua to see the fate of all the slaves he had aboard the ship had it not crashed. What her fate would have been. To be tied to a post, wasting away from the harsh weather, damned to be ripped apart and consumed by a giant. He felt the shame clawing it’s way through his insides. He suddenly felt sick.

He did not want to think of the way she would look at him when she saw it. The mad woman. The one who marched without fear into battles against draugrs and giants. The one who by all reason and logic should not have let him live after his humiliating defeat and ships wreckage.

Why had she let him live?

He hadn’t the faintest idea beyond some mad plan she had briefly mentioned. If he had been the victor of the fight, none of them would be where they were today. He was happy he lost.

He had taken her from her home and brought her to this cursed land. Perhaps this was fate. Perhaps her coming across his path had been a divine intervention. A gift from the gods to guide him away the path paved with darkness that would surely lead him to the depths of hel.

He hadn’t wanted to be a monster, but he did not want to be eaten by one either. He had done what he had to do, or at least that is what he told himself at night as the screams of those tied to the posts kept him awake. They haunted him. Each and every night. It was his burden to carry alone. His father wouldn’t understand. His father would find it weak, and weak was not something his father allowed him to be. The björg were a strong people. Their strength below only the gods and the giants; and now, he pondered, below Senua as well.

His father had to see that, did he not? He was lost in thought for a great while until Fargrimr sat beside him. Fargrimr was growing on him, though if asked, that was something he would never admit. Though Thórgestr thought his counterpart initially to be weak and nothing but a pawn in his father’s empire, he had realized that he was wrong. He was wrong about many things as he had come to realize.

“We shall stay the night here. Health and weather permitting, we leave tomorrow. Ástríor has been invited to accompany us.” Thórgestr felt his eye twitch at that. While he did not blame her for her hatred, he did not wish to continue being subjected to it either. Despite finding the news unpleasant, he simply nodded, biting his tongue to prevent uttering any words that should remain unspoken. His eyes drifted toward Senua. A small, almost imperceptible smile graced his lips as he watched her.

Fargrimr noticed that had become an increasingly common habit of Thórgestr’s. He found it intriguing. A short time ago, if asked, he would have told anyone that Thórgestr was just as heartless and brutal as his father. Now, as he observed his unlikely brother in battle, he knew with conviction that was false. Whether the true Thórgestr had been capable of such tenderness all along, or if this transformation was yet another impact of Senua, he did not know. He knew from the moment his prayers were answered and she saved him from the draugr, that Senua would bring a great change to everyone she encountered.

Fargrimr stood after awhile, being beckoned by Ástríor. “Come. Our quarters for the night have been prepared. Ástríor has provided us with two huts. She does not yet trust you to sleep alone.” Fargrimr offered his hand to Thórgestr, having witnessed his limping earlier in the night. He could see the fire of defiance rising for just a moment in Thórgestr’s eyes. However, Thórgestr once again held his tongue and accepted the assistance up. It would be a long walk to where they needed to go.

They followed a few paces behind Senua and Ástríor up the winding hilltop. The huts were small, but they appeared adequate enough. When he was sure the women were out of earshot, Fargrimr once again broke the just barely comfortable silence between the two men.

“You have the most experience with our next foe,” Thórgestr was not sure if this foe being mentioned was his father or the tyrant. “so I believe you should share the hut with Senua. That way, you may more easily prepare her for what is about to come.”

Thórgestr stopped dead in his tracks. A panic he could not identify began to bubble in his chest. He felt his cheeks warm as a teasing glint made it’s way into Fargrimr’s eyes.

“What? Have you not shared a hut with a woman before?” The insinuation was impossible to miss.

“Of course I have.” Thórgestr sputtered incredulously, feeling anger and embarrassment take ahold of him. He was only met with a smug smile. Fargrimr continued walking.

Senua had already entered the hut before they caught back up to Ástríor. “These are the huts.” She gave one last hard look in Thórgestr’s direction before she turned on her heel and walked away.

Thórgestr realized he was suddenly standing alone outside his hut’s door when Fargrimr quickly wished him a restful sleep and entered into his own dwelling before he had a chance to argue about the sleeping arrangements.

He shook his head, not enjoying the path his thoughts were taking. He took one more breath and smoothed back his hair before he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

He told himself he was not nervous, though he knew that was not true. He had no reason to be nervous. He was not a child afraid to be alone with a girl. He was a man and Senua was a woman. One he was sure would not want him even if he wanted her.

Did he want her?

[yes-zero-x-gaming-love]

Lets Play Full-Game: Hellblade 2 Senua's Saga "Play Through" part 3

After Escaping From The Draugar, Senua Gains A New Company, Fargrimr, Who Tells Senua What Has Happened To The Village!!! Senua Leans That The Slavers Where Going To Sacrifice Those Who Were Captured To The Giants, To Keep The Slavers Safe!!! The Earth Shakes And Cracks Open, Where Senua Encounters Illtauga, A Terrifying Giant!!! After Escaping  Illtauga, Senua Learns That Hidenfolk Might Have A Way To Kill The Giants, But Senua Must Take On The Trails of The Hidenfolks, That Leads Into Underwater Cave, Where More Trails Remains And The Dangers That Waits!!! Please Remember To Press That Subscribe Button. Thanks For Watching. No Commentary https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lY9YP4ZSmgc

[specialofficerlemons]

I just watched playthroughs of Hellblade 1 and 2 and

1. I want to redesign the main characters with period and cultural accurate costume

And 2. I see everyone shipping Senua and Thorgestr and y'all haven't taken it far enough. Senua x Thorgestr x Fargramr x Astrid. I just see everything through poly goggles naturally- though this one would be on some Homestuck quadrant vacillation type shit

[hysterialevi]

HELLBLADE 2 - Screenshots (1/?)

[sheigarche]

All right, Hellblade Actors AU when? 👀

[hysterialevi]

HELLBLADE 2 - Screenshots (2/?)

[brynnmclean]

Fargrímr Narration for Rauðhólar (3/6)

Someone very helpfully posted a video on Youtube of comparisons between all the Narrators in Hellblade: Senua’s Saga. Last night, I finished writing down all the quotes for the Others / NPC Narrators, for reference. Hope it is interesting and useful to other people!

Spoilers for the game overall, but all the narration quotes for Chapter 3 Rauðhólar under the cut (this is a short one!):

She could see the thread that binds the world. She could feel its hidden pulse. I saw it, too, but not as fine as she did. It was not strange. The women of our world, it is often so. They know.

-

She saw the giants too, once we had infected her with fear. But saw within them, where we could not see. Where they sprang from, all the rage and fear. It’s where we come from too.

-

She was the only one who could help us, trapped in fear. The world we knew collapsed all around us. But that wasn’t the worst thing. The world we chose to build from the ashes— we made it Hel. Dog-eat-dog and each man for himself. People dying every day. And we couldn’t see the truth.

Full List: 1) Reykjanestá [Thórgestr] | 2) Freyslaug [Thórgestr] | 3) Rauðhólar [Fargrímr] | 4) Huldufólk [Fargrímr] | 5) Bárðarvik [Ástríðr] | 6) Borgarvirki [The Goði / Thórgestr]

[brynnmclean]

(crawls in, lies down) hi, it is somehow Wednesday again and I wrote 3k in a week (wild for me) -- here is the WIP Wednesday post for the Hellblade fic (thank you to @laurenplayspeople for the suggestion on which part to share, this chapter 6 is never ending!!!):

Not all of the Vestmenn are awake in this early morning. A few paces away, another table and barrels have been arranged in a way that reminds Thórgestr of a fence to keep predators away. Four of the slaves sleep in a protective ring of pallets, while Ástríðr sits on a bench near them with the protective energy of a hound keeping watch over a flock. Her spear is in close reach. She cocks her head at Thórgestr when he looks over, a silent acknowledgment of his presence before she turns back to the quiet work of stitching tears in a basket of clothing. He isn’t fool enough to think she has dismissed him and that he is not watched as a half-starved, rangy wolf wandering into the field. Care is needed or she will drive him off. Senua’s knee knocks into Thórgestr’s thigh as she sits down next to him and passes over a bowl. Fargrímr sets a pitcher and small cups in front of them and sits down next to Iseult. He also follows Iseult into her mother tongue and, to Thórgestr’s chagrin, he sounds far more comfortable speaking it. “It is good to see you out here, Thórgestr,” Iseult says. “I will be looking over wounds after the meal—and that includes you,” she slants a sharp glance down the table at two other men, “Audunn and Niall. Niall, don’t tell me your leg is fine, I saw you limping when you got up.” Niall—a young man of perhaps seventeen winters—scratches his patchy beard and shifts his outstretched right leg closer to the glow of a brazier. “Ahh, Iseult, it’s only the cold of this damned place leeching into the bone. The fire has already warmed me.” The other man who had groaned at Iseult’s attention is older, hair grown out from a close shave the way Thórgestr’s has. He shakes his head now and adjusts the ties of a sling that cradles his injured left arm. “No use arguing with her when you can’t run away, Niall,” he says with some good humor. He looks at Thórgestr over the rim of a wooden mug with an expression that almost looks like an invitation to commiserate. Thórgestr risks another smile and casts it out in his direction, carefully pronouncing, “Iseult is better friend than foe. Audunn and Niall, was it? I am Thórgestr. How do you fare?” Niall’s eyes widen and he digs his heel into the stone floor, mutely scraping the last of his breakfast into his mouth. Audunn is the one who answers. “Cold and hungry and hurting, same as you, though not as finely dressed. Thórgestr. You were the chieftain’s son, were you not?” Thórgestr does not flinch outwardly, but only because he has been bracing himself for this. For a moment, he feels his father’s heavy hand gripping his shoulder, but Senua’s knee is still pressed against his leg beneath the table and her touch prevails against the shadow of the past. You’re with me. “I was,” he tells Audunn. “We severed ties.” “Your father nearly severed you,” Iseult says, pushing a plate of bread and dried fruit across the table. “Save talk for later and eat something.”

Again, too tired to tag specific people, so if you're reading this and am writing something, feel free to play along and tag me so I can read your excerpt!

[crisicsgames]

FINALE HELLBLADE 2 SENUA VS GODHI L'ULTIMA MENZOGNA BORGARVIRKI THE END 🎮 XBOX SERIES X 60fps

[crisicsgames]

HELLBLADE 2 GODHI IL CUORE DI TENEBRA - BORGARVIRKI 🎮 XBOX SERIES X 60fps

[sheigarche]

Okay, after listening to the audio files of the characters from Hellblade 2, I discovered many new details about the game, but there is one that stands out the most of all:

A entire character was cut from the game.

Senua would be able to save one of the slaves who survived the shipwreck and he would become a companion along with the others.

His name is Finn, they first met on the boat and he feels like a teenager by the way Senua talks to him and scolds him for disobeying her at times.

Although Fargrimr, Astriðr and other NPCs dialogues alludes to "someone else" with them, the only one who speaks directly to Finn, besides Senua, is Thórgestr.

One of the audios suggests that he attacks Thórgestr at one point, but is easily defeated/immobilized and only lets him go after Senua demands it. Thórgestr says the Draugar will kill her and her friend anyway.

And Finn is supposed to be the one who finds Senua in the cave with Ingunn's baby and they decide to go talk to Fargrimr about it.

Unfortunately, Finn apparently dies somewhere between Illtagua and Savájarrisi boss fight.

Since there is a line of dialogue where Senua was clearly mourning him, blaming herself. And there are no conversations with him after that. Neither in the way to Járnviðr nor in Borgarvirki.

So my guess is that Finn should be the person who dies in the raid in Bárðarvik (instead of a random NPC) and that's the reason for Senua's breakdown in that scene.

[focusandthefuries]

The Unspoken Journey of The Northman and The Mad Woman: Chapter 3

The shame Thórgestr had felt earlier in the morning had not completely gone away, but it had morphed into something much more complicated. Anger at Fargrimr for putting him into the position were that could happen in the first place and confusion an Senua’s lack of anger. At her lack of reaction at all.

He expected her to be angry. To be disgusted. To yell at him for the way his body had reacted. She did no such thing. She stayed there, sitting next to him for several minutes before they had redressed and made their way to the town hall. Or, attempted to, at least.

His leg once again gave out, and when it did, that is when he finally saw the anger cross Senua’s face. She rushed to him once again and helped him to his feet. He could barely speak when she grasped both sides of his face. Her face was so close to his, close enough that if he had tipped his head just slightly forward, their noses could have been touching. He blinked slowly, distracted by the way her thumbs felt tracing over his cheeks. His eyes drifted to her lips. Pale pink and slightly chapped. He would make sure to remind her to drink mead or tea at breakfast.

“You are going to see the healer.” She said through gritted teeth. “I will not allow you to refuse.” Senua was angry. Angry at herself for being the cause of his pain. Angry at him for forcing her hand in battle. Angry at The Furies for stoking the flames of guilt within her.

Look at him Senua.

He can’t even talk.

You cannot lead him into battles like this.

He will die.

He will die because of you.

Hot tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down over her face. It was then that Thórgestr seemed to break whatever trance he had been stuck in. Hesitantly, his hand reached up and cupped her cheek in much the same way she was holding him. With as much tenderness as he was capable of, he wiped the tears away. “Senua,” he breathed, unsure of what else to say. He wasn’t even sure why she was crying. He felt powerless. He did not enjoy the suffering that so often masked her features.

The moment was broken much too quickly for Thórgestr when Fargrimr’s and Ástríor’s voices were heard fast approaching. Senua had jumped back like she had been scalded by boiling water. He could not suppress the hurt that caused him, Senua could see it in the way his typically proud posture deflated. That too, worsened her guilt.

“Ástríor,” Senua, called, making sure her words would be heard first, before whatever she or Fargrimr had to tell them. “Thórgestr requires the assistance of your people’s healer.”

“The Björg deserves nothing from us. We have already done him a great kindness by leaving his throat uncut.” Ástríor's eyes darted to Thórgestr. They held so much rage that he was tempted to reach for his ax, just in case he might need it. He fought the urge, just barely successfully.

“Senua, I already told you. I am alright.” He did not wish to fight with Ástríor and hoped that his refusal would pacify her enough so they may get on with it. The more time that passed between their initial plan to go after the tyrant and actually getting there the more he grew anxious of what would be waiting for him when he returned to his home.

“Nonsense. I know that he is not viewed favorably by you or your people, Ástríor, but we need him. He risked his life to kill your giant. To bring me here. He wishes to stop everything you hate him for, but he cannot do that if he is unable to guide us to this Tyrant or to his father. Do you understand? “ Ástríor let out a deep, unhappy sigh.

“Senua is right.” Fargrimr added, glancing at the frowning face of his male companion. He found it curious that Senua was making this request, and even more curious that Thórgestr was trying to convince everyone he was fine. What had happened to get the fire in her eyes to burn so strong?

“Fine,” Ástríor spat. She was unhappy at having to help Thórgestr, but she was indebted to Senua, and if it was something the seer requested, it was something she would get. “go eat. I shall bring the healer after she is done with the others she must see first.” She stomped away, not unlike a defiant adolescent, intentionally catching Thórgestr’s side with her shoulder. His eye twitched at that.

“Come. I am quite famished. I am sure you two are as well.” Fargrimr smiled at Thórgestr as he walked past, only getting a scowl in return. Fargrimr noticed Senua’s watchful eye on the Northman, flinching every time he took a step that was less steady than ideal. Curious.

When the trio was finally sat at a table, provided with cooked fish and bread, Thórgestr’s sour expression started to relax. The food was cooked well and the bread was still warm. A hot kettle of tea was placed for them in the center of the table. Thórgestr grabbed it, pouring Senua her cup first, followed by his own, and then reluctantly poured Fargrimr one as well. He was angry at the skinny man’s trickery the night before, but he was happy to have spent the night in a woman’s embrace.

“You need to drink.” He grumbled to Senua. The corner of her lips turned up just slightly at the way his r’s rolled gruffly off his tongue.

It is poisoned.

Don’t trust him.

Do not drink.

She hesitated at The Furies words, but took a small sip after he took one of his own.

“Well then, have you thought of a plan.” Fargrimr queried.

“We did not discuss one.” Thórgestr interjected quickly. He was not keen to discuss what had transpired the night before. Granted, it was nothing scandalous or improper, but it felt too intimate of an experience to discuss so openly. It did not feel like an interaction with an adversary, nor did it feel like an interaction with an ally. It felt most like a night shared among lovers, though he was not sure if he was seeing more than what was there. Feeling more than what was there.

Thórgestr noticed the amused smile Fargrimr was fighting to keep off his lips and shot him a murderous look.

“I see. Did you rest comfortably?”

He knows.

He saw her on top of The Northman.

What must he think happened?

You know what he think, Senua.

Senua choked on her tea. Her companions did not have much time to fret over her as Ástríor marched into view, an old woman hobbling behind her. She must be the healer, Senua presumed. While the venom with which Ástríor approached with was obvious, the healer greeted Thórgestr with much greater kindness. She smiled at him, her grin absent of many teeth. Her hair was grey and braided. She reached out and grabbed one of his hands, pulling it up to her lips. She kissed his markings like a peasant would kiss the ring of a king. Clearly, she had met a Björg much more demanding of her subservience before. Thórgestr felt his guilt might eat him alive.

“That is not necessary…” He trailed off, but, she merely smiled at him again.

“My son was around your age when Sjavarrisi took him from me. You remind me of him. You have the same eyes. You avenged my son, and for that I owe you my deepest gratitude.” Thórgestr tried to smile at her in response. His words were failing him and he was uncomfortable. He was not used to being spoken to by the people of these lands with anything but fear and anger in their voices.

“What is it that ails you, my son?”

“My leg.” He shifted in his seat, pulling the fabric up for her to see the wound. “It was struck by the blade of a formidable opponent.” He flashed Senua a smirk quickly before looking back to the healer.

He hates you.

No, he respects you.

Look at him.

He will live.

The old woman hummed as she removed the makeshift bandage. “I can help you, but first, you must wash the wound with this.” She removed a bottle from the pouch that was slung around her neck. “I will prepare the ointment you need while you are at the bath house. You will need to rest here another day. I will meet you back at your quarters when I am ready.”

Another night…

Alone with him.

Will you hold him again, Senua?

Like you held Dillion?

“Get up, Björg. I will show you to the bathhouse.” He nodded and stood to follow, wincing slightly as he did so. Senua got up as well, feeling compelled to follow Ástríor wherever she was going to lead The Northman.

She wants to kill him.

She will kill him.

Will you let her harm him?

What will you do if she tries?

“Do you wish to bathe as well, Senua?” Ástríor questioned, her tone warm and concerned. Senua thought for a moment. The rain had washed some of the blood and grime away, but there was that which still remained. “Yes.” She answered, no more, no less.

Inside the bathhouse, there seemed to be two rooms that split off from the main entrance. They were separated by a thin wall, but there was no door that closed. “You may take one room, he may take the other.” Ástríor lingered after Thórgestr chose his path, grabbing Senua by the arm. “Will you be safe with him like this.” Senua swallowed and then smiled. “I will be alright.” Ástríor nodded and then she was on her way once again.

Senua took a deep breath and ventured into the room opposite of Thórgestr. It was small, but warm. There was no basin or bucket. Instead, a pit paved with stone was dug into the floor. Senua jumped when she heard the clang of his clothing and his sword hit the stone. Her face flushed when her mind wandered to what he must look like right now. She tried to ignore her thoughts as she too shed her clothing and stepped into the water. It was both deeper and warmer than she had expected it to be.

“Thórgestr,” she called out, her voice thick with what sounded suspiciously like desire to him. There was a pause before he responded.

“Yes, Senua.” He tried to keep his tone even.

“I…”

Want him.

You want him.

“Your markings. Did they hurt?” She changed the subject. She stopped herself from asking something she felt she shouldn’t.

“Only briefly.” He answered truthfully, confused by her sudden interest. “Do they bother you?”

“No.” She let the water flow through her hair before asking her next question. “How far do they go?”

“The only ones I have are the ones you can see. That might change at some point, but I do not yet know if it will.” Thórgestr’s sighed, swirling the bottle in his hand. He had a feeling it would not be a pleasant sensation, but maybe imagining what she looked like beyond the wall that separated them would help distract him from the pain. He uncapped the bottle, and did what he must. It was worse than he imagined. It felt like there were flames consuming his leg and he let out a pained noise.

“Are you alright?” Senua called, pulling herself out of the water, ready to run to his aid if it was needed.

“Yes,” he croaked. He too took himself out of his bath.

You would run to him?

In this state?

Do you want him to see you bare?

Do you want to see him bare?

She dried and dressed quickly. Upset and embarrassed at what she had almost done. She felt an attachment to the man. One she was struggling to admit to herself. She simply just wanted to make sure he was safe, but how she could have helped, she did not know.

“I am nearly ready,” He called to her. Taking that as his word that he was decent, she entered into his room. She was only half right. His bottom half was clothed, but his top was not. He looked from where he was on the floor, tying his boots. He was wide eyed and frozen. He looked so different from the menacing man she fought in the rain. Her eyes dragged slowly over his body, taking note of the smooth muscle and rough scars that adorned his frame. She was surprised by his chest. She had expected it to be similar to Dillion’s, full of course hair. She was wrong. It was much more fine, much more sparse. She struggled to notice any at all.

Her eyes then flickered to the caps of his shoulders before they rested on his stomach. This gaze of hers, unlike everything else up until this point, he knew he was not imagining. He watched her cheeks turn pink and then red, but she did not avert her eyes. He stood slowly and stepped towards her until the tips of their boots were just barely touching. His breathing had gotten heavier, as did hers. He felt a pang of desire, like lightening coursing through the blood right below his waistband. It was an intoxicating thing to Thórgestr, to have a woman stare at you like she wanted to see every inch of you. To drag her eyes over your body, like you had done to hers.

The air felt thicker. It felt warmer. Her fingers reached up to the side of his neck, following the thin lines of ink downwards. He swallowed and his eyelids began to feel heavy. Senua’s hands were shaking slightly as her palm flattened over his chest. She felt his heart beating wildly under her touch. Slowly, she began to drag her hand lower, feeling the peaks and valleys of his muscle.

The darkness is nearly all gone, Senua.

It is only in his hands now.

The tips of his fingers.

It’s gone because of you. You saved him.

When her fingers hit his waistband, they dipped just barely inside, pulling him ever so slightly forward into her. A low grown escaped Thórgestr’s lips, and his head rolled back. A gasp left her mouth when she felt him against her like she had felt him this morning. She felt the knots and the heat begin to form in her own belly.

You can’t have him.

You’ll hurt him.

He’s a Northman, you can’t trust him.

He’ll hurt you.

Her eyes fell closed as he cupped her head with one hand, tilting it back slightly, while the other rested on her lower back. He pulled her strongly by her waist into his body, so she could feel what she was doing to him. To feel how badly he desired her. The sound she made nearly drove him insane. He leaned closer, desperate to feel her lips on his. Senua could feel the warmth of his lips just above hers. He was about to close the gap when an unexpected voice called out from the main hall, asking if they were ready to meet the healer.

“Fucking Fargrimr,” Thórgestr spat, knowing the moment was ruined.