#priest canute

[4seasonsofart]

Sin For Me

(Priest Canute x Vampire Thorfinn)

Suggestive

The holy angels sing on high from the heavens as the demons of the night awake to prowel. The moonlight illuminates the ever-present and graceful Mary, praying from her place on the stained glass window. The church peacefully rests after a long day of entertaining the congregation and saving lives for the Lord. A lone priest sits in one of the pews with his hands clasped together so tightly that they turn a fine shade of red. A rosary weaves in between each of his fingers as he mutters the Lord's prayer both out loud and within his mind.

A ghostly shiver runs down his spine as two frigid fingers run along the edge of his neck. He shoots up from his kneeling position as his ocean-blue eyes fly open. He runs a hand through his sandy blonde hairs as his other still clutches the rosary tightly. His eyes are shaken, but he is strong in the faith of his God.

"You have been stalking me for months, you beast of the night! Show yourself in the name of the Lord, my God!" He shouts sternly as the internal temperature of the church drops to below freezing.

A deathly metallic breath fans over Canute's pale neck as a calloused hand slides down around his waist. "What's the fun in giving myself away so soon?" A demonic giggle escapes the beast's mouth as he disappears within the depths of the church's shadows. Canute is left with a slight tint on his cheeks and goosebumps all along his body.

"I command you to answer me! In the name of God the Father!" Canute states this once again as he battles to restrain his own inante humane urges. His heart rate increases tenfold as he tries to keep the devil's control over his mind at bay.

A satanic cackle echoes across the cathedral as the cross of God bleeds out an obsidian ooze that eats away at the sacred grounds surrounding them. "I fell from heaven a long time ago, little priestess. Once an angel, now a sexy vampire. I was never cut out to hang out with those bores anyway." The guttural voice purrs out in a sensual tone. "News flash, holy beings, sucking God's dick is gay, even if it is God." It? They? She? He? Xe? Rests at the edge of the shadows, only its daunting fangs shining through the dreary twilight. 

Canute trembles with anger as he is about to retort to the strange being; it cuts him off and continues its rant. "I thought God hated queers, yet there are so many of them up in heaven. The angels just keep sucking his dick non-stop." It growls out savagely. It calms and returns to its hellish cackles. "Newsflash, your big boy doesn't run the show anymore."

Canute is at his edge now as his fists curl and he shouts with the animosity of a thousand enemy soldiers. "How dare you speak about the Lord in such a derogatory manner! You, faithless beast cast from heaven, what do you mean that God doesn't run the show anymore?" His body shakes with such ferocity that the rosary drops from his hand so foolishly. He reaches to grab it swiftly, but it is too late.

The monstrous being emerges from the depths of the church as he places one of his platform boots over the rosary. He looks up at Canute with blazing hazel eyes and tempting white fangs. He licks his fangs like a predator would when staring at its prey. He wears his long golden locks in a high ponytail, as his body is only sclantily clad in a black satin dress. He leans towards the preist's ear with malicious intent.

"It's no fun if I tell you the truth." He crushes the rosary under his heel as the beads roll under the pews and in the onyx, acidic substance that coats almost everything around them. "You are aware of the inherent eroticism of having a vampire so close to you, priestess." He murmurs softly as his fangs gently graze Canute's ear, and a drop of blood falls onto Thorfinn's tongue.

A pleased moan escapes Thorfinn's blood-tinted lips. "Oh my, you taste more divine than nectar from the heavens." He groans as a twisted smirk appears on his features.

Canute's eyes dilate as he is paralyzed by the beast's sudden appearance. "You are a vampire! A devil of the night!" He screeches as he frantically moves away from the vampire, whoever it is. He takes his calculated steps away swiftly as Thorfinn watches him with a yearning for his sweet ambrosia blood.

"Leaving so soon, my love?" Thorfinn calls out in a teasing and almost sad tone. He walks towards the priest with a deliberately slow walk. Each step is as purposeful and calculated as Canute.

He speaks desperately in a tongue that only a priest is able to speak. He calls for the Lord, for the angels, for anything holy to save him. "Sweetheart, I would rip every wing off of every angel for you. Pluck every eye out so only I am able to gaze upon your heavenly beauty." Thorfinn mutters in an agitated and lovesick manner. "No one... is going to save you." His eyes are mad. Demonic. Evil. Deranged.

Thorfinn leaps onto Canute with a pleased hiss as he goes for his exposed neck. He looks like a demonic entity from an olden Christian painting. His hazel eyes transformed into something much more malicious and ruby-colored. His fangs extend out further, as if impatient for the blood to reach their aching surface.

Canute grabs a Bible from off the edge of the nearest pew as he smacks Thorfinn with it hurriedly. The vampiric entity cries out in both pain and pleasure as he looks at Canute with an eager expression. His flesh slowly burns off from the interaction with the highly holy object. That same vile ooze slowly creeps across Thorfinn's injuries and begins healing them.

Canute's eyes search for anything to be used against Thorfinn in this time of need. "Beast, give me your name!" He shouts as he shoves his arm under the alter to grab the crucifix pendant from his broken rosary. He is panting and sweating heavily despite the temperatures that have only decreased since the satanic beast of night first appeared.

Thorfinn stumbles while the transformation process of his healing finishes. His midnight satin dress has fallen from her shoulders and hangs around his chest, barely covering it. He stares at Canute with wide, unhinged, ruby-red eyes. "Thorfinn. Thorfinn is my name. I want to hear you scream it while I defile you in front of your God."

Canute scrambles up from the floor and holds the small crucifix in his hand. "Thorfinn, I command you in the name of God to leave this holy place! You belong here, not!"

Thorfinn looks at him with an enraged expression as the black ooze seeps from the walls of the great and holy chapel. He barks out a strangled laugh as he doubles over and spits out a glob of white blood. "I broke the seal of holiness of his church with my own powers! Hurt me by touching me, sweetheart. These grounds are no longer holy." He stalks towards Canute again as a thin trail of that white, milky blood escapes his mouth.

His body, once clad in something, is dissolved by the seemingly sentient obsidian liquid. Half of his bare body is encased in it as he reaches out towards Canute with a zombie-like urge to feed on him. His bloodlust is so strong that not even the holiest man on earth could touch him without being consumed by it as well.

Canutes leg is caught in the goo as he tackles the vampiric man and ends up pinning him to the floor. He let out a low and anxious growl, like an animal trapped in a corner. He pants as the goo sends a warmth through his body that counteracts with the icicles slowly growing from the ceiling of the cathedral. He feels like he is burning alive and freezing to death at the same time. His soul feels like it is being ripped apart and repaired. He will not fall to this beast.

Canute still holds the small crucifx in his hand as Thorfinn grins at him lovingly. "What if you allowed yourself to be seduced by a handsome vampire, little priestess?" Thorfinn purrs out haughtily as he presses his bare body against Canute. He hisses out in pain as the priest rests his cross right along his neckline which creates a deep violet bruise with a black charring.

"Do not tempt me you night devil." Canute states through gritted teeth as his pale complexion flushes and he holds back a low whimper. The liquid slowly retreats from Thorfinn's body but keeps them together on the floor of the cathedral.

"Allow me to give you my body and blood, after I take yours." Thorfinn whispers in a sultry tone as his hand cusps Canute's chin. Thorfinn trails his elegant fingers along the edge of Canute's stubble. Canute drops the crucifix and it is devoured by the inky ooze. "I have stalked you for months and yearned for your blood for years." He moans out with the primal vocals of an Inncubus haunting the dreams of men.

Canute fights so fruitlessly against the bloodlust and carnal instincts that emanate from Thorfinn. Canute whimpers out softly as his cheeks flush to their deepest crimson hue. "T-Thorfinn..." He wistfully whines his name. He begs. His pleads. He doesn't know what for.

"Allow me to be the Eve to your Adam. I will take a bite from your apple, and you will be cast from a God who doesn't love you." Thorfinn begs pathetically as his back arches and his need for blood takes over his judgment. "Say your mine."

Canute pants out his words as he trails his fingers across Thorfinn's frigid collarbone. There are too many emotions. Too much of everything. His head spins with the thought of allowing Thorfinn to turn him. Becoming the devil of the night. Drinking from each other each night. The ecstasy of a vampire drinking another vampire's life essence. One word and Thorfinn will be his.

"Y-You—"

"Oh my, the dark and twisted beast Thorfinn is back for another round, eh?" A booming voice drowns out Canutes as a giddy blonde haired man appears at the entrance of the church. Thorkell the Tall and famous Vampire Hunter.

"Thorkell—" Thorfinn flashes his fangs towards the hunter, and he digs his fangs possessively into Canute's shoulder. He hisses out like the demonic beast he is. A primordial moan slips out of Canute's mouth. His eyes widen as the vampire marks him for future use. A sensation spreads between Canute's legs that is foreign to him. Is this the devil's work?

"Let go of him, you beautiful beast! Bite me instead! I love the rush that vampire fangs give me!" Thorkell shouts happily as he brandishes his engraved twin axes. The ones that have slayed thousands of Thorfinns own. The ones that almost killed him the day he turned away from heaven.

Thorfinn bares his fangs once again and places a sloppy kiss on the edge of Canute's mark. He winks towards his little priestess once more before disappearing in the next blink of Canute's eyes. Everything in the church returns to normal. The ice vanishes. The temperature returns to normal. Canute feels normal once again. Even the rosary is fixed and is sitting right in front of him. It is displeased with him, he thinks. He acted like a fool.

What happened to my self-control? What happened to all of those safety measures? Why was I almost seduced by the beast? Oh no, I'm marked.

Oh, no, no, no. Fuck.

Wait, sorry, father in heaven.

The beast has now left an impression on me. Now, he'll be able to hunt me. To stalk me easily. Now other vampires may come after me.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I apologize, Lord. Really, sorry.

I have failed you.

I will avenge my honor and kill that beast to rid myself of his disgraceful mark.

I can't spend eternity with him. Not with a handsome and seductive man like that. That's a sin! The biggest one! It'd be a betrayal of my holiness—

Thorkell runs up to Canute through the pews as he realizes that Thorfinn has disappeared. He whines out angrily as he stomps around like a toddler, deprived of his favorite toy. "No fair! I wanted to fight him! I've been looking for him for months!" Thorkell shouts in a distressed tone, unaware of how distraught and internally scarred Canute is.

When did he lose his clothes?

Canute looks down at his nude body, and he averts his gaze from it. Disgusting. Sinful. 

Thorkell continues his tantrum before promptly passing out. His baby blue eyes snap up towards the stained glass of virgin Mary. He heard something. Besides the thump of Thorkell. A shadow passing in the night.

He places himself on his knees once again as he grabs the rosary. "The demons will not consume me tonight." He mutters out uncomfortably. That same foreign sensation still sitting between his thighs.

[shinjisdone]

To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 7)

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

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

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

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

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

Part 4 is here - Thorfinn unwittingly opening his heart as he realizes he does not want you to die

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

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

Part 6 is here - meeting Canute and becoming his guard - Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

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

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

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

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen

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

[This part will specifically mention: Death of character, Canute being slapped, pillaging, mention of Canute not taking care of himself to the point where he could die, slight gore, Thorfinn leaving you alone, uh oh its Thorkell time]

So It Goes On And On Not Knowing When It Went Wrong...

So. While things have changed a bit, all around everything still seemed the same.

Marching on and travelling by wagon is not bad at all, you noted, and so far nothing has really threatened the prince, that was constantly attempting to glance at your direction.

Ragnar is quiet all around except for the prince and Askeladd hasn't shared one of his 'great plans' in a while, too.

Thorfinn was as grumpy as ever, always by your side.

Yet the snow has gotten heavier.

It was worrying at best...the road to the king was long.

And the food was running low.

So I Just Feel and Feed The Blood That's Inside Me...

It was only a matter of time.

Of course. Askeladd being Askeladd, being the cunning and clever fellow he was, the leader of hungry, savage vikings would take all a single village had to feed his.

You heard the priest, who traveled silently along you with his alcohol in hand, shriek and call out. Björn quickly beat him into submission.

Ragnar argued to leave these good, religious people alone while speaking as little English as possible.

You were just glad Askeladd did not order you to 'help'. You'd stay far back, as far as you could, watching over the prince. You wondered if he could hear the same things as you.

The young man was hunched and not peeking at you for once. Even while no one was there, Thorfinn still insisted to sit close by you, squeezing you into the wall of the wagon and keeping Cantue a good distance away. He said nothing.

Just as the food arrived, he handed you meat. Telling you to eat while you could and that food was food. Canute got his portion from Ragnar.

You cared for your friend. Yet at times you observed his apathy that was as equal to enemies as it was to innocent people.

Still, such things are quickly forgotten. It isn't the first time, after all.

You got food, you got water, and supplies. You'll survive and so will the prince.

All was the same...including when Ragnar invited you once again to eat. Food was food and especially delectable when it was cooked safely.

You convinced Thorfinn to go. Whether or not out of trust and companionship for Canute and Ragnar or for the fact that was it was free and cooked food. Safely cooked food - miles better than charred fish.

Thorfinn pouts. He doesn't particularly care for 'lunch' but if one; you were to go and two; there was food, he'd have no choice but to oblige.

It was eerily similiar to the first dinner - Canute cooked while Ragnar helped set the table. Only would he glance at you from time to time, the smile on his face fading.

Whether or not you note that the man is not fond of his son - well, his prince, fancying you, is up to you. But know that he won't openly do something against his affections as long as they don't cross a limit.

He cannot have his highness believe he can just have you stay at his castle and marry you...

Thorfinn noticed too, and while he understands where the man is coming from, that does not sour his mood any less whenever Ragnar has to...scowl at you like that.

Canute is as shy as a maiden. He cooks and it is like he had forgotten about the pillage as he asked you bashfully how the dish was.

Soon the shanty is filled with conversation of the past until Ragnar was called out by the rest of the band. Eyeing the trio requesting for his presence, he promised Canute he'd return soon and for you and Thorfinn to continue protecting him.

With an narrowed gaze you watched them leave. The door was closed to keep the snow out. Their footsteps slowly grew quieter and finding the table to be cleaned already, Canute shyly attempted smalltalk with you.

You admitted to yourself that you were barely listening. When you looked into the faces of the men, the bandmates that you knew, you could only see Askeladd.

The table shook and rumbled as the men put Ragnar's cold body on it, more carelessly than planned. Askeladd glanced at them before gazing back to Canute with the same narrowed and focused eyes. The latter was trembling at the sight.

"It was an ambush." Askeladd began, continuing with an empty explanation and the request to keep moving forward. Whoever killed Ragnar must be on their heels - and with Thorkell in tow, they'd best hurry.

They leave shortly after with only you, Thorfinn and Canute staying. Your blonde friend said nothing as he prepared his things. Canute could only stare wordlessly at the corpse in the room.

There it was again. Maybe the sliver of compassion left in your heart or the knowledge that it is difficult to move on from death but it is a must anyway - no matter what the reason may be, you once again decided to appraoch the prince.

With a hand on his shoulder, you turned him to you. His dilating eyes couldn't meet yours. "Prince...what Askeladd said is unfortunately true. If we stay, we will all die here. It hurts, but we have to keep going."

It worked in a way as well...as if in a trance, Canute let you lead him out of the shanty by the hand and into the cold snow. His gaze, as wide as a deer's, was glued on Ragnar until he was inevitably out of sight.

The trance was quickly broken though.

The moment Canute was forcefully thrown into the wagon, he found his voice in an agonizing scream again. His big eyes shut close for the first time only to spill out tears as he yelled out profanity after profanity, order after order to have Ragnar not be left behind in some nowhere shanty but properly buried in honor.

The leader of the band made it quickly clear that they do not have time for funerals and honor - a mountain of a man with a bloodlust no warrior deities could match was after them - after him - so he could cease his bawling.

"Ragnar!" His name left his mouth again, his throat beginnning to hurt. If he himself could not stop his grief, then it was Askeladd leaving his face bruised in a hard slap.

"Ragnar is dead. No matter how many times you call out for him, the dead will not hear you. Not come for you nor help you."

Canute brought a hand to his throbbing, red cheek. The tears stopped for a moment as he stared at Askeladd in disbelief, voice shaking.

"...It was you..."

It was clear to everyone witnessing that there were more words to be exchanged, yet the man was faster. Without any hesitation he ordered for everyone to keep on marching no matter what. With a flick of his finger, he pointed back to Thorfinn and you, telling you to keep on having an eye on the prince.

You didn't know what to think. But as Thorfinn helped you up on the wagon and Canute silently hunched in his seat, you only knew you felt anger.

Keep Your Precious Justice To Yourself, Bud...

Only a few days have passed but each was as dull as the next.

Thorfinn and you still had the priviledge on sitting on the wagon next to Canute, who stayed hunched in his lone seat. He hadn't spoken a word ever since Askeladd's lesson of death.

The band's mood darkened like the grey and cloudy sky. Snow kept on piling and piling up and you often had the displeasure of getting off the wagon and pushing it through the thick white while Canute stayed put, not lifting a finger nor his head.

Thorkell was close - everyone knew. Besides the whsipers, only Björn spoke to the band's leader.

Thorfinn ate, slept and sat as if nothing was wrong. SInce the days have been quiet, he barely paid any attention to the prince, and would only acknowledge you. Though due to the gloomy atmosphere among the men, you barely were in any mood to talk and the blonde knew it.

At times he'd nudge you, asking how you feel. He shares his food, dividing it in two, or lets you drink fom his water sash. His blanket and cloak are, of course, also yours to share.

Yet he doesn't even lift a finger for Canute. The young man is grieving in solitude even while surrounded by men there to protect him. He does not reply nor answer anyone's call.

You take a part of the loaf of bread Thorfinn shared with you and offer it to him.

Thorfinn glares at the exchange disapprovingly. Still, he lets you do whatever you think needs to be done.

Even if he doesn't really get it or see it as neccesary.

It takes time, but Canute lifts his head ever so slightly before taking the bread. He chewed on it slowly.

The prince may not speak and seemed even quieter than he was at your first meeting, but he at least acknowledged you and your actions. Whenever the men realized that they would also have to look out for the young man - after all, he cannot starve or die of thirst or cold - they would turn to you for the task. Canute only seemed to accept your deeds and your words.

Ragnar wasn't here to baby him anymore, after all.

As heartless as it may sound, Thorfinn also saw Ragnar's actions as babying Cantue. And now, you are doing the exact same.

After some time Thorfinn would definitely whisper to you, whisper how you are smothering and mothering him. Look at the princess. He barely cannot eat or drink by himself. Another round of your kind and honeyed words will have him demand that you start feeding him as well.

Whether or not you shush or agree with him is up to you. But it cannot be denied that Canute cannot be left alone or else he would easily allow himself to die.

Some men gossip among themselves how you have taken Ragnar's position. None found any glee or schadenfreude in that fact, however, and were more focused on the inevitable meeting with Thorkell the Tall.

Higher Than The Sky And Deeper Than The Sea...

And so it came.

You remember it well. How Thorfinn, sitting next to you, grabbed your arm and shifted you closer to him. His cold glare was aimed at the road covered in snow in the distance and his voice was in a low whisper.

"We have to start looking out for the others as well." He began curtly and dry. Brief with his assumption that something was wrong here in the band, that none of the men liked where any of this was going.

They did not like the plan. The marching. The secrets Askeladd kept to himself and the feral giant hunting them down. It would only be a matter of time before a fight would ensue.

"Look out for yourself. Stay alert." He told you and with that, let go, as if nothing had been exchanged between you at all.

And just like that, it was like a prophecy.

The bridge the men were ordered to destroy was nothing but a pebble on the road for Thorkell. He and his men were visible over the hill and with just one swing of his arm, a spear impaled three men.

As swift as the wind, Thorfinn flung out his daggers and stood in front of you. Canute did not move a muscle at the men falling, nor did he look up to know who was here to 'save' him next.

People dying and fighting over being the 'escorts' and 'heroes' who have safely returned the prince to his king.

A quick arguement began before it became a full-out betrayal.

Not like Askeladd had not seen it coming.

Quickly he ordered Björn to ride off and bring the prince to safety - with you and Thorfinn on the wagon and tow as well.

The tables have turned and a manpower of over thirty are now after Askeladd's head and the prince's saftey. Feet stomped over the broken wreckage and soon, Thorkell stood before them all.

The bandmates hoped to switch sides and offer Askeladd's life as a token of loyalty. But your heart only gave out at the sight of the giant of a man.

No matter how you felt about Askeladd, the conversations you had with him...you could not forget his attempt at your life and all the things he had done to Thorfinn...you could not charge back down there and help him.

But Thorfinn could and would.

As he let out a scream, you held him back by his shoulders. The wagon was rushing away from the turmoil together with the prince and the priest...and more of the traitors came hunting you down on their horses.

"It's foolish to go back there! There's Thorkell, Thorkell! Don't you remember what he did to us last time?!"

Though, Thorfinn does not listen. He aimed at the oncoming men and their horses, shooting them down before they could reach you. Sparing one of the animals, he saddled on before yelling back at you. His face contorted in an rage you have never seen before.

"He is MY prey!!!" He shouted back, "You stay here! Kill anyone who tries to come near you!"

It is the first time where the young viking does not prioritize your safety.

As he charged back to the hill below, he shot down the rest coming for the prince - yet in his mind they are coming for you.

Even as they fell, he left you alone with Björn who is easily tempted by madness.

If he hesitates now, his revenge will be lost.

[idk whats up with me today, my english is just....bleh. I really mix up past tense and present dont ask me why.

More of a 'from plot A -> plot B' kind of thing. Not a lot happens unitl then...]

[aotopmha]

I read a few more chapters of Vinland Saga (decided to stop at ch 100 for now) and I simply continue to love it.

The moment I start doubting the writing, it pulls me right back in.

The encounter between Canute and Thorfinn was just about perfect.

Thorfinn as the non-conformist during his age and Canute as one of the powerful monarchs of his age.

I love how Vinland Saga leans on social history and how it understands the daily reality of the age, even if the story is so strongly dramatised and fused with fictional material.

The medieval king's (here during the transition from the Dark Ages to Early Middle Ages) power is absolute, predicated on the idea of the divine right (here probably in its most earliest form) – the idea that the king is the representative of the Christian god on Earth and his is the god-given right to rule.

(There is a bunch to be said about this re: Canute's arc in relation to his faith, I think, which I might elaborate on in some other post.)

And everyone around him acts accordingly.

I loved this detail in the meeting where Askeladd killed the previous king, too.

And Vinland Saga is full of awareness of the social state of the age it talks about.

From the wise but hypocritical priest who travels with Askeladd's group for a while, to the village Askeladd's group slaughters and the daily reality of the innocent family we see the point of view of prior to their slaughter.

The battlefields stink, pillaging and slave-keeping are common customs.

The world a thousand years ago is tens of times worse for women.

I talked about the story's writing of women in my previous post about Vinland Saga and I've been thinking about it a bunch since, actually.

How Vinland Saga writes women is not much different from most fiction (especially stories written by men), but I've noticed stories written for adults at least have a bigger willingness to explore the social status of women and the realities of living as a woman.

And women's lives being a struggle is doubly true for slaves in the age where Vinland Saga takes place. So the horrid reality Arnheid experienced (or even the noble woman-turned-slave at the start of the story we saw) was not too uncommon for those of her status.

It is very true that the story of travelling to Vinland is (mostly) the story of men like many stories of earlier ages (archeological finds show a pretty clear gender role divide), but it's also true that women in the Viking society were much better off than in any other of the age. They could own property, engage in trade and demand divorce, for a few examples. Nor were women exempt from being warriors.

And although Thorfinn's mother Helga and Ylva had a few neat scenes, I wish we'd see these aspects a little bit more.

I think I've felt so strongly whenever the story addresses how women are treated because even if it isn't much different from your common dark fantasy story where female characters show up rarely and far between the male characters and are there to make the guy characters sad, be written out, have their children or be tragic victims, it is at least willing to address the reality of women's lives with empathy.

I've thought about this in relation to another Seinen manga, Berserk, a bunch too and I find the why of a female audience (which includes myself!) taking a liking to these stories something fascinating to think about.

Although both series are often very excessive with all forms of violence, they are also empathic towards women's struggles and suffering.

I think this is why Arnheid ultimately did hit me and why I empathise with Casca and her journey of recovery, too.

I think the reason these stories have gained a female audience at all despite their flaws is because women see bits of their own suffering and struggles in these fictional women because, in the end, the intention matters the most.

Casca is nothing but a mute plot item for a lot of Berserk, but the story is empathic towards what happened to her and also introduces other complex women besides her into the story.

Berserk is super excessive with its sexual content especially, but at least, it, for the most part, not only pulls back on it as the story goes on, but also explores it with some substance.

And although a 100 chapters in, you can count the number of female characters present in Vinland Saga on a single hand, it does give a voice to the struggles and position of women of that time.

I thought Arnheid was really well written in that sense, at least.

I only recently realised the significance of the distinction between exploring women's position and struggles in society vs. writing women well in a more general sense.

(I think it might be Utena rubbing off on my brain, having also finished it pretty recently.)

And I often see the former branded as sexist writing (and I think it can be), but I've grown to very much think it can be valuable in its own way.

(All you have to do is make it complex/give women a variety of struggles, which I think Vinland Saga does pretty badly and Berserk gets better at as it goes on.)

I like stories that make me think about this stuff.

[cynthiaandsamus]

Damn... that was... a lot

Is it just me or does that last scene and Rick's moral remind anyone of the Priest's speech in Vinland Saga where Canute asks him to show him someone who embodies Love and the Priest points to a dead man because the only one that can't take anything from anyone is someone that's already dead? Like the general idea is that living is an unavoidable act of harm but trying to reduce the harm and keep going isn't necessarily wrong because it's all we can do.

[earthboundvalkyrie]

Vikings Valhalla, Season 2, Episode 1 Review

New Post has been published on https://www.ebvs.blog/2023/01/22/vikings-valhalla-season-2-episode-1-review/

Vikings Valhalla, Season 2, Episode 1 Review

After about a year’s wait, it’s finally time to get caught up again with our trio of intrepid Vikings, Harald Sigurdsson – who believes he’s the rightful King of Norway; Leif Eriksson – a Greenlander looking to make his own name outside the shadow of his infamous father, Eric the Red; and Leif’s sister, Freydis Eriksdotter – another Greenlander seeking her place in the world. Over the course of the first season, the three became fast friends and war partners, and Freydis and Harald became lovers.

So, how was the first episode of this new season? Did it stand up to the story told in the first season? Well, read on if you’d like my opinion on that (and I certainly hope you do! 🙂 )

CAUTION: SPOILERS AHEAD

This was a pretty full episode, as we have plenty of characters to catch up with and stories to move along. If you need a refresher on this episode, I posted a detailed recap earlier this week describing what happened, so I’ll try to avoid repeating too much of that here.

Overall, I enjoyed the episode quite a bit. I was surprised by how quickly the time watching it went. The “catching up” was done with a minimum of repetition from last season. For the most part, the stories just picked up from where we’d left off.

Leif, however, has changed. He seems more lost than he had before, and given that his entire crew – other than his sister – were killed, that makes sense. Early on, we see him talking to someone who isn’t there. The camera briefly shows us it’s Liv, a crew member he’d loved. Later, there’s another brief scene – so brief I missed it the first time through the episode – of him speaking to her, though we don’t get to see her this time. These moments are important because they lead to a critical admission later in the show. It would have been easy for them to hit us over the head with it, but they went for a much more subtle setup, which was very nice.

Unfortunately, there were a couple of times they were a bit more obvious in their foreshadowing. While arguing about whether to go back to Kattegat, Freydis talks about where it would be best to raise children – usually a pretty sure sign a character is pregnant, and in this case, she is, as is confirmed later on in the show. In London, Earl Godwin expresses concern about Queen Emma’s safety, and she pooh-poohs his qualms. Again, a conversation like that is typically a set-up for an attack, and staging an attack shortly thereafter (that he, of course, foils) is right up Earl Godwin’s tactical alley. So there’s little surprise when the next time we see Emma, a priest tries to kill her with a poisoned communion wafer that Edwin stops her from eating.

I thought that Johannes Johannesson, the actor portraying King Olaf, did a marvelous job at showing another side of his character. Usually, Olaf is more over-confident than anything, but during the scenes where he’s in captivity – first in the cage where he’s naked and being subjected to taunts from his former subjects and then in the cell where Forkbeard is telling him his plan – Johannesson show fear and shame at his situation, desperate anger when told to protect Svein who Forkbeard is placing on what had been his throne, and tenderness when his son is brought in. It makes him a much more interesting character than he was previously. Seeing the humanity in him makes it easier to be invested in Olaf instead of just wanting to see him dead.

Very little happened with the London characters, except for the “attempted assassination,” which I firmly believe will be shown to have been orchestrated by Earl Godwin with no intent for the Queen to be harmed in any way – just frightened enough to take his advice to add more security. King Canute is still off fighting in Denmark and Forkbeard has been in Norway hunting down Olaf and putting his grandson on the throne.

One big change in the show from last season is the introduction of the Jomsvikings from Jomsborg, a city called a “New Uppsala Across the Sea.” Heathen worship is still strong there, and the Jomsvikings are trying to help Pagans fleeing Norway escape to there where, hopefully, they can have safer lives. In addition, the Jomsvikings are specifically looking for Freydis, who is called by some the “Keeper of the Faith” or “The Last Daughter of Uppsala.”

I loved the conversations Freydis had with Leif and Harald while they’re hiding from bounty hunters in a rocky area just off a beach. They’re waiting for the Jomsviking boats to arrive, and Freydis has decided to go with them to Jomsborg. The conversations are clearly meant to be farewells, but – as is appropriate for the characters – there is little sentimentality.

These quiet moments, though, set up an epic ending. The bounty hunters, led by now-Jarl Olaf and the new King Svein, give the order to kill everyone on the beach, which including peasants who are also waiting for the boats. Just as the hunters begin rushing toward the unarmed refugees, huge balls of fire come arcing out of the sky, hitting the beach and creating a wall of fire.

Granted, the timing is that kind of “too-perfect” timing that never happens when you really need it, but in a show like this, it’s a lot of fun to see. Because the beach is so foggy, we can’t see the Jomsviking boats or warships, only the rain of fire they’re casting between the two groups. Those waiting to leave with the Jomsvikings quickly get in the boats and head out to the waiting warship. Freydis, Leif and Harald say their final goodbyes, and the two men watch as the ship – and Freydis – sails off into the fog.

Left alone in a small boat that had ferried them away from the beach, Leif and Harald decide to head out for Novgorod, where Harald has an uncle he believes will back his claim to Norway’s throne. It’s a good place to end the episode. The show felt like the main threads were brought to a good stopping point, but with more than enough intrigue about what will happen next to want to come back.

I hope the rest of the season can fulfill the promises this season opener has made!

[architecturepolh]

Tadam name orgin

#Tadam name orgin series

The book is stored behind glass but visitors can turn virtual pages of the book to take a closer look at some of the illuminated pages using touch screen displays adjacent to the case. The Gospels are currently on display in the cathedral’s Revealing York Minster in the Undercroft attraction. It’s believed its original pages were written in Canterbury in around 990AD, with additional pages added to the manuscript by the Dean and Chapter after they arrived in York. It contains four Gospels rather than the whole bible and is filled with elaborate illustrations as well as a letter from King Canute dated around 1019. The Anglo-Saxon book is one of the most valuable in York Minster’s collection and is one of the few surviving items from the Saxon Minster, the location for which is unknown today. The York Gospels were brought to York in around 1020 by Archbishop Wulfstan and the 1,000 year old text is still used in services today. The Minster’s website says of the Gospels: In the undercroft of York minster, the York Gospels are on display. But every once in awhile, we do get to have an encounter with a manuscript that has names in it, and last weekend on a trip to York, our editor-in-chief had a manuscript encounter which involved both early Bibles and names. The vast majority of the time, the DMNES editors do data collection for the Dictionary via printed editions we simply do not have the time, volunteer power, or money to work solely with manuscripts. For other Biblical names, we are slowly working through the alphabet adding for (cf., e.g., Aaron, which has forms from the Wycliffite Bible, the Geneva Bible of 1560, and in the next edition will have citations from the Sagrados Escrituras of 1569). Because there are so many Biblical names and so many vernacular translations produced before 1600, added the citations to the relevant entries is an on-going process we can generally add the Middle English forms from the Wycliffite translation of 1395 right at the start because there is a handy online searchable version of it available. One of the long-term adjunct projects of the Dictionary is to look at how various names are spelled in the earliest vernacular translations of the Bible, because these translations had a significant influence on how the names were spelled when they were used in common currency. (Many of the early examples are the names of priests.) We have examples of it from the Czech Republic, England (from the 12th C on it predates the later fads for Biblical names), Estonia, France, Germany, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, the Low Countries, Scotland, Sweden, Ukraine, and Wales - a pretty widespread distribution geographically, and also temporally as our examples range from the 8th to the 16th C. Adam was never an exceptionally popular name in medieval Europe but it was also never an entirely unpopular name.

#Tadam name orgin series

While we do not want to argue in this series of posts that medieval metaphysical and physical theories had any influence on what peopled named their children - that is almost certainly not the case - the one name that we can showcase for this element is actually one with a connection to the element itself: Adam derives from a Hebrew word for red clay or soil, which is purportedly what God made the first man from. The element for this post is ‘earth’: Earth, dust, dirt, ground, mud, clay, soil, etc. But we recently thought of a neat theme - the four elements! Earth, air, fire, water, the foundations of medieval metaphysical and physical theories…In what ways do they turn up in personal names? It’s been awhile since we’ve done a set of themed posts on this blog! They’re a lot of fun to write, but sometimes less fun to think up themes for (hint, hint, if you have any suggestions, leave them in a comment and we’ll see what we can do!).

[encomium-emmae]

In the Light

Queen Emma x King Canute, 1.2K, Rated M (+ AO3 link)

The upstairs corridor is strangely quiet as she returns to her chamber with her ladies.

For the past few hours they had taken up residence in the solar, embroidering and gossiping, the light chatter of their voices like a flock of half-tame birds, partially silenced only in their consumption of the mid-day meal.

Emma’s embroidery had progressed very little. Her mind had been elsewhere: on the lines in her ledgers, on the quarterly income of the southern shires and the cost of a good ship, on the memory of his mouth against the inside of her thigh and the way she had held him afterwards, watching the lines on his brow relax into sleep.

Since that first night, he had come to her chamber each evening, making her bed their refuge, their paradise, their momentary escape from the world. The king took such delight in her, in showing her how to please him, and how well she too might be pleased. The gifts he gave her in the dark were nothing less than a revelation. And still, she wanted more. So many hours sharing such intimacies ought to have been enough to sate her hunger, and yet it only seemed to increase, pulling her from her thoughts in the most inopportune of times. Just the other day at Mass, Emma had drifted from the words of the priest, only to return to find herself wantonly clenching her thighs.

This morning he had left as the sun rose, kissing the crown of her head before he reached for his discarded tunic. He would be gone all day, he told her, inspecting the northern city walls and the condition of the old Roman roads, and she should not expect him until nightfall.

Which is why she is surprised to see him now, standing at the end of the corridor, leaning back against the stone wall as if he is waiting for something.

In Emma’s experience, it is not in the nature of kings to wait.

“King Canute,” she says, stopping just in front of him as she offers a nod of acknowledgement. “You have returned early. I hope all is well.”

“It is. Only... once I had gone, I found myself in need of my advisor.” He looks past her, towards her ladies, his gaze commanding. “Return to your mistress’s rooms,” he tells them. “She will follow you shortly.”

They curtsey politely and then depart, skirts softly sweeping along the floors. There is no one left in the corridor, Emma realizes: no attendants, no guards standing at their posts. It is only the two of them.

She holds his gaze, ignoring the heat rising in her chest.

“What advice did you have need of, my lord, that you cut short the day’s work?”

His lips quirk and he reaches for her hand, then begins to pull her down the corridor. A few steps away there is an alcove cut into the stone walls, with sunlight pouring from a large window of leaded glass. Without a word, he spins her and presses her back against the wall of the alcove, his mouth suddenly covering hers.

She would protest, voice some disapproval, find some way to push this mountain of a man the requisite number of steps away—but instead Emma simply melts into him, parting her lips in invitation. His tongue sweeps against hers, soft at first, but then with a kind of need that stirs at her, warming the blood in her veins.

Her arms loop around his neck, drawing him closer, delighting in the feeling of his solid body pressing her against the wall: trapped, but willingly so. He circles his hands at her waist, one of them skimming up along the front of her gown.

They kiss hungrily, desperately, as if there is nothing else—and perhaps there is not. Words are reduced to breaths, thoughts reduced to sensations, everything in the world reduced to the feeling of his skin under her palms. Every place their bodies touch is now on fire, and a shiver runs along her spine despite the heat.

The king tilts his head and begins to kiss along her neck, finding a spot just below her jaw that makes Emma gasp. He feasts there for a moment, earning other sounds from her, and then she starts to feel his hands fisting at her skirts, drawing them up towards her thighs.

She stiffens, the haze of desire suddenly lifting from her thoughts, and reaches down to keep his hand from advancing further.

“Not here,” Emma hisses. “Someone could see.” She is already beginning to regret what they have done, marveling at the risk she was taking in kissing him in such a public space.

“No one will see,” Canute whispers in her ear, his voice roughened by need. “I had Agnarr clear the corridor and put a guard on either side. We are alone.”

She swivels her head to meet his gaze, wanting nothing more than to dispel her growing confusion.

“Why? We are alone each night in my bed. Is that not enough?”

The king smiles sheepishly, Emma’s heart growing warm despite itself.

“I rode out this morning with the sun bright in my eyes and warm on my back and all I could think about was you. What you would look like if I touched you in the light of day, the sun on your face when you took your pleasure. It is foolish, but that is what I wanted. To see you in the light.”

As he speaks, she finds herself oddly bewitched by image he is conjuring. Her memories of him are cloaked in firelight and candlelight, shadows lengthening over their bodies and carving sharp hollows along the planes of his face. What they are doing each night is secret—or at least secret enough—and some part of her wonders what it would be like to step out of the darkness. Would it assuage her hunger for him—or only serve to heighten it?

“If that is what you wanted,” she says, as she offers him a knowing glance, “you might have brought me with you today.”

The king’s expression turns at once from disbelief to amused delight.

“You wish to try this... out of doors?”

For a moment Emma considers it, lets the thought unfold in the deep reaches of her mind. A tree-encircled grove, a deserted hilltop covered in heather and gorse. Canute on his back, attired in nothing but the ancient tattoos that blanket his shoulders, his warrior’s body powerful underneath her. Her hair arrayed in delicate braids like a pagan goddess, some deity of springtime and rebirth. They are surrounded by solely the sun and the wind, a breeze that brushes lightly against their skin, the only sound the echoes of their passion.

The heat of shame floods her cheeks, not only for the fantasy that came to her so easily, but also for the realization that she does want it, more than she was first ready to admit.

“Bring me with you next time and perhaps we will find out.”

The air between them has suddenly grown warmer, and they are already so close, chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh. He is looking at her, gray-green eyes searching hers, without a hint of artifice. Emma’s breath catches in her throat as she presses his hand to her leg and begins to draw it up, skirts lifting inch by inch. When they are at her knee he pauses, slipping his hand underneath to reach the prize he sought.

She smiles and arches her mouth to his, her kiss soft as a benediction.

“But I am in the light now, am I not?” she whispers. “We both are.”

gif courtesy of @lomapacks

[wizardmons-moved]

canute’s character arc is so funny bc he’s like ‘boo hoo i’m shy and pathetic’ and then this priest guy is like ‘nothing in life matters btw’ and he’s like ‘wow... i never thought about it that way’ and then he becomes god

[mercurygray]

A little fic idea for you and your Vikings Valhalla OFC: Edith is one of the witnesses at Emma and Canute's wedding ceremony and ends up telling Godwin about it... or perhaps he finds some way to persuade her to tell him... ;)

I had a lot of fun with this! Sadly no persuasions here - they won't be at that point for a good while yet. Apologies for the verb tense in the middle, I'm not really sure what happened there.

Armies come and go, they say, but precious little changes for the women. Isn't that the truth of it? Edith thought to herself.

It was quieter, now, in the halls of the palace; with the King and most of his retainers gone there was almost a feel of normalcy about the place. The queen, never one to waste time, had given orders for the rushes to be changed and the rugs to be beaten, bits of cleaning here and there that simply weren't possible when court was in session. Usually these were the tasks that would fall when the court moved to Winchester - but, Edith thought, there would be no such move this year, after all that had happened in the last several weeks. Everyone else at court would simply have to make do - including councilors who smirked as they passed by in the corridor.

"Edith. I hope your mistress knows the game she's playing," he said lightly, obviously intending to make her stop and talk with him.

She paused, hating that he knew just how to goad her. "I think you know the queen does not play games, Godwin."

"I would say she plays some. Or maybe you two are not so close as you suppose, if she does not tell you everywhere where she goes." His smile had a dagger in it. "It's a very poor maid who does not know her mistress's whereabouts. Tongues might wag."

Edith took a breath and tried to remember patience. "Perhaps you'll be so good as to tell me, then, where you think my lady has been."

The councilor stepped forward, his voice lowered so as not to attract attention. "To be alone, at night, in the King's chamber? I could say she was brave but never stupid."

It had been late indeed last night when she'd discovered the queen was gone - there'd been a muffled knocking at the door some hours later, one of Canute's guards outside. "My king says you're to come at once." Edith had looked back at Emma's bed, then, and seen that it was empty. What mischief's this? And why does the King need me?

But the Queen was already with him. "Oh, Edith, you've come." She'd began saying something, about how they were waiting for Father Wictred, and Edith had stopped listening a moment, too surprised to speak. For Emma had looked - there was no other word for it - happy. When was the last time she had smiled so? Holding her babies, perhaps, when the shouting had stopped and the pain was over: here was something that was completely hers. And here, in this room, she had that same look - every time she glanced over at the King.

Edith had looked at the creases in Emma's gown, the loose waves of her hair and the equally loose sheets upon the bed, and had realized - She's lain with him, body and soul. And he lay with her, she'd added silently, taking note of the equal intensity in the king's eyes, low-raked desire, like a bank of coals, the glances passing between them like arrows. And there was something, too, in the way his hand lingered over hers, careful with his every touch as if she were a object of marvel and he was afraid that he would break her. Edith had felt a welt come in her throat. Aethelred never looked at her so. She was what was due him, not something to be cherished. I'll love you for that, my lord, she'd thought to herself, listening as Canute conferred with the newly arrived priest. If I love you for nothing else, I'll surely love you for that. You gave her back her boys, and you made her smile.

So, that was that. She'd had precious little sleep last night because of it, and now here was Godwin, with his smirks and intimations that her lady had only given in to lust, thinking he knew all.

Well, two could play that game, couldn't they? "That was hardly a game." Edith considered a moment, and decided it was worth it to slide the knife in. "How could it be, with three witnesses and a priest?"

To watch Godwin's face go pale made all the insults worth it. "A priest?"

She was allowed a smirk of her own, now, and took it with much satisfaction, seeing all his careful manners crumble just a little. "What's this? Something that Godwin All-Seer doesn't know? He wished to make it good before he left, and so it is. You'll see she wears a ring of his now - a white stone in a heavy silver band."

"Three witnesses," he pressed, seeming just a little bit more desperate. "Who were they? And the priest?

She counted on her fingers, savoring his defeat. "Father Wictred read the vows - I stood for her, and two of his men for him. Agnarr and...another, I do not know his name." She saw another opening and came in for a second cut, closer than the first, and deeper - "It's a shame he did not ask you. Perhaps you're not as close with him as you suppose." Should she chance it? Did she dare? He was bleeding now, and she might kill him - but it was too good an opportunity to let it pass her by.

"I'd be very careful who you mock, my lord. It took two days to get the blood out of the floor after that dinner- and Streona didn't insult his wife."

She thought she might treasure the lost look on Godwin's face for weeks to come. It was a slow season now - she would need the entertainment.

[trans-marcus-brutus]

Wrote down all my reactions while watching Vikings: Valhalla and HOO BOY I can’t wait for the next season already 😭😭😭

spoileds under the cut:

Aethelred being an old racist damnnn

Harald and his brother are so cute!!! His baby brotherrrr

Harald what a man

Leif is hot

17 MINUTES IN AND HARALD ALREADY FUCKING?!!!!

Harald puts his cross around his back when Freydis tells him what happened to her 🥺

LEIF JUST WALKS IN ON HARALDS HALF NAKED ASS

Olaf.... a rapist? I... I hate that so much Jesus Christ

Great the religious divide oh boy

> Because singing killed my grandma okay!!

Harald stopping the fight between a Christian and a Pagan is a metaphor 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Harald’s speech makes me want to give him the sloppiest toppy

Nothing turns me on more than a religious tolerance king

JARL HAAKON!!!!! 💕💕💕

Harald “I can fix her” Sigurdsson

Oh so the rapist WASNT OLAF I feel a bit better now

Aethelred coughs up a lung asmr

Godwin looking so bitchy

Leif and Freydis cute siblings awww

Harald and Freydis are cute too

EMMAAAAAAAAA

EDMUND BABY

Emma’s so much younger than Aethelred and I know it’s accurate but ewwwwwww

“You married a Norman, we create nightmares” damn right you do cause you’re french

Leif fought a polar bear that’s so hot

Emma is so hot

I do not trust Godwin with Edmund hhhhhhhh

ARE WE GONNA SEE LEOFRIC

Nvm it’s Eadric

Harald:

“I show this Saxon mercy by ending his pain.” “What about love?”

“I love doing it”

The triskel!!

Bapy child found Leif 🥺🥺🥺

Harald save him awwwwww

Are they surfing bro

WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY SWAMP

Canute standing like “you know I had to do it to em”

Wasn’t aethelred terrible at leading tho

EDDIE AND ALFIE ARE IN THIS OH MY GODDDDDD

MAGGIEEEEEEEEEE

Ohhh Godwin’s turning on England fuckkkk

Did freydis just lick this old man’s hand-

That was a raven... was that Odín????

Oh it’s like a priest

Harald came to visit big brother 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Canute and Emma hhhhh

EDMUNDS LITTLE SMILE WHEN CANUTE KILLS EADRIC HAHAAAAAA OOO THE BITCH DESERVED IT

Alfie and Eddie capturedddddd babiesssss

CANUTE LMAO

GODWIN MAKES THE BABIES PRAY LOUD SO THEY CANT HEAR HIM KILLING DUDES

“They’ve gone to heaven” BRUHH

Oh my god Canute you bitch

He doesn’t want to meet the nobles you stupid slut

**LEOFRICCCCCCC OH MY GOD**

Kåre is a bitch but I feel like something horrible happened to him fuck

Godwin you stupid slut is Leofric gonna die??!!!!!!

They KILLED LEOFRIC?!!!!!!!! BRO HES NOT SUPPOSED TO DIE TIL 1057

Okay I kinda understand why Kåre is mad but he’s still insane and a freak

Olaf and harald are no bros :,((((

IS THAT FUCKING BABY HAROLD AND SVEIN WITH AELFGIFU??!!!

Oh god there’s about to be beef between aelfgifu and emma

Why tf is Olaf dressed like a lumberjack hipster

Stg you are NOT about to make me ship Harald x Leif

CNUT IS FUCKINGGG

WHY IS HE SO LARGE

Great I just saw Harald’s ass

Awww harald want to marry her

Sweyn forkbeard looks musty

Godwin you BITCH OF COURSE YOU DID

EMMA NOTICES THE OTHER STAB WOUND HHHH

Haralddd mansplain manipulate malewife

Harald rolling his eyes at Olaf’s conversion shpeel lmao

HAAKON NOOOO

HARALD BAPY NOOO

Is harold harefoot like 8 and about to fight

SCREAMING IS LEIF GONNA GO AFTER CANUTE’S KID AND WHICH KID IS IT??!!

in summary I am screaming give us season 2 PLEASE

[4seasonsofart]

Holy Devil With Your Darkened Wings

Vampire Thorfinn x Priest Canute Trigger Warning: Self harm, depressed Canute, religious trauma, suggestive themes Part 1: Sin For Me

Among the most high of holy beings, there are the most dark of all devils. Mankind was never made to stand in the middle of these warring entities. The most corrupted of all mankind are not the ones that hide in the darkness, but the ones that dance in the light. We all have our secrets, and some are best left untold. Even the most holy may be seduced into sin.

A preacher of God lies in the confession box. A cracked bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass of gin in the other. The mark of the vampire lies on his neck, decaying the skin around it, his holiness fading with it. He prays fervently, like a dehydrated man lost in the desert and abandoned. The words fall off his lips like stones, ones that he used to throw at the glass houses of the unsaved.

"Never allow the lust of mankind to corrupt me, oh Lord." He whispers breathlessly as he takes a despondent swig of his gin. "I will not be seduced by this devil of the night."

He swallows the rest of the whiskey and finishes his gin. He stills for a moment, and without a second thought, he violently slams his head against the confession box. He shrieks out like a hunted animal looking for its kin. He arches his back as he drives his glassware against the hardwood floors of the holy ground. The toxic shards of glass dig into his palms like the thorns of a crown.

His crimson blood slowly trickles over his palms as he lets out a choked sob. He doesn't pull out the shards of hopeless divinity as he tightens his well-worn fingers into the punishment for his own sins. He hides in the confession box. He begs the heavenly being for salvation from the beasts mark on his pale neck.

"I am not worth your salvation; my holiness has been tainted. You gave me your body and blood, and now I am depraved of it. I deserve the punishment! I deserve the death!" He sobs out with his tortured soul as he wraps his lacerated hands around his aching throat.

He pushes his hands into his once-pristine neck as that same human sin flows out of him. He's being cleansed of that night's devil's mark. He just needs to be cleansed. Like the water washing sins away, his blood will wash the mark. He tears his clerical collar away from his cleansed neck as his hands buzz with the holiness that he has regained. He no longer sees any harm but the good that comes from his actions. The booze tastes like the body of Christ, the new blood within him... Christ's blood.

He knows that he must cut the mark out of him! Stop the infection of the satanic offenses on his holy body. First, he must rid himself of the rest of his faults. He must become clean. He must become new.

He unbuttons his cassock only to his chest as he shakily pulls out a pocket knife. "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." He mutters under his breath as he makes oddly angelic lacerations of the cross all along his body.

The tainted sin of mankind mixes in with the grounds of holiness. Soon enough, nothing is evil anymore; there is only God, the real God, and the angels above. He finishes his obsessive life of prayers as he digs his split fingernails into the devil's mark.

"How far mankind has fallen." A silken voice of lustful pleasures reaches his ears and echoes across his soul. His trousers tighten instinctively as that foreign feeling sinks down into his core like a soul into hell.

His eyes snap open as he is met with the devils entrancing hazel irises. He adorns a different seductive cloth tonight. A white-laced baby doll dress that barely hangs past his upper thighs. He wears a pair of pink and white stripped knee highs that meet the ends of his— sinful outfit. Canute gulps down hard as all thoughts of his cleansing begin to drift to the dark recesses of his mind.

"So surprised to see me again, my priestess?" Thorfinn purrs out like a content cat that has just reconnected with its owner.

He places himself on Canute's lap without a care in the world as he positions his thighs right outside of Canute's. He hums in an almost heavenly manner as he tenderly begins picking the shards of glass out of Canute. His fangs enlarge again as he takes in the aroma of Canute's intoxicating blood.

He watches as Canute's eyes widen, and he is able to feel his heart rate speed up. He shuts his mouth as he continues to pluck every single piece of glass with as much care as a craftsman has while making their magnum opus. They sit together in such a compromising position. Thorfinn's frigid breath causes goosebumps along his bloodied figure.

"Allow me to be your savior for once, dear." He speaks in such a sweetened tone that no mortal is able to resist.

Canutes irises grow clouded with an unknown haze as his body becomes encased in that same obsidian ooze. Thorfinn presses one of his lifeless fingers against Canute's lips as he gently shushes him. He smirks triumphantly, although Canute's vision is much to hazy to see it. 'Right along with my plan. My mark always works wonders.'

"Who do you belong to?" Thorfinn inquires in such a soft tone as he squeezes his thighs against Canute.

"Y-You..." He trails off as his head hits the back of the confession box.

"Are you mine?"

"I am yours." He finalizes, like the last nail on the cross.

Canute's eyes roll into the back of his head with those cursed words as his body goes limp. Thorfinn's virtuous smile morphs into a gnarled simper. He plants his fangs gently into his priestesses tender skin as his mouth wraps around his neck like a boa constrictor. His tongue connects with the nectar that he has so been deprived of as he moans out gutturally.

"I want to bleed you dry. Wanna make you mine, my sweet love." He murmurs in a frenzied manner as his pupils dilate into crimson gems.

"Thorfinn, hurry the hell up; boss wants us back in the den soon." Torgrim shouts obnoxiously as he lazily bangs on the side of the confession box.

The foreign gooey substance disappears from Canute's limp body as it is left in pristine condition. Thorfinn hisses out in an irritated manner as his delicious meal time has been rudely interrupted. "Tell baldy he can fucking wait! He's got all eternity!"

He begrudgingly detaches his fangs from his lover's neck as he gently peppers a set of kisses over the mark he gave him. He growls out as Torgrim interrupts him again by banging on the box so harshly that the wood splinters.

"Keep your fucking fangs in your mouth, asshole!"

The musky scent of rotted corpses attacks the nostrils of the fallen priest. His soul is at rest in this moment, although his body is shocked awake. The pure amount of malice and demonic energy emanating from everything here makes him wish he had his rosary. He frantically looks around as he realizes his cloth has been removed from him, his injuries healed, his bare body exposed to the elements.

He's isolated, for now. No light streams into the darkness of the barren cave. Only the stench of satanic rituals and the occasional drop of water are felt. He stands up and keeps his legs closed as he stumbles in the darkness. All of the hairs along his figure rise to their peak as his entire body is lined with warnings of the danger ahead. Stalactite and stalagmites make jagged teeth within the confines of this tomb filled with demise.

Impossibly finite rocks dig into his soft flesh mercilessly. The occasional trail of groundwater mixed with limestone and the fluids from the desecrated deceased. Tortured echoes of mortal misery and ecstasy reverberate through his eardrums. He shudders as a frozen draft enters the tunnel he is walking through.

A beastly hiss enters the shell of Canute's ear, one that is much airier than that of Thorfinn. It is fleeting and tortured, as its intensity dies out like a flame on a ceremonial candle. The temperature immediately rises once again as Canutes fight or flight is quelled for a few moments.

"Oi, Priest Canute? What are you doing in the vampire caves?" A familiar voice chirps in.

Canute is startled for a moment and turns around quickly while rushing to make himself presentable. He keeps an iron grip on his legs to keep the cove of his privates covered from this newcomer. He crosses his arms over his chest to hide his nipples and some of the hair that trails shamefully along his stomach downward. He is a man of God; he shouldn't be seen in such a compromising position. Lewd. Horrid. Sinful.

His eyes lock on Garm's crazed gaze as a specially crafted spear still lies in the throat of a now-lifeless vampire. It isn't even twitching or hissing as its puncture wound rapidly rots away. The vampire is soon nothing but dust in the winds of time. His spear, Canute notices, is engraved with many protective and religious sigils that are only made in the highest covenant of witches. Canutes brows furrow as his head lifts away in pure repulsion. 'A vampire hunter? Another disgrace towards the church.'

Garm is still adorned in his alter boy apparel, although it is stained with the devil's sinful blood. A strange glinting is caught within the darkness of the earthen tunnels. A pair of vampire teeth lie proudly off of his ears, like earrings, like he is proud of how easily he kills these beasts. His normally couth and pulled-back blonde hair is now spiked up with gel, as if his hair were now a death trap of its own. The young man quirks a curious eyebrow towards the priest as he uncaps a bottle of the church's communion wine and chugs it down. A few droplets escape his lips and make their way onto his clothes.

He speaks in the most dignified tone that he is able to muster. "Garm, alter boy, is that the communion wine?"

"You mean the Jesus juice?" He mutters off passively as he wipes his mouth. He has emptied the communion wine bottle by now, so he lazily tosses it into the side of the cave wall.

"The utter disrespect you have just shown to Jesus's sacrifice."

"Eh?" Garm chuckles out happily. "So fucking around with a vampire isn't disgraceful? I'm not the one who is currently naked and nearing a vampire den." He points towards the bare figure of Canute as he chuckles.

"How did you—"

He's cut off during his stunned answer as Garm promptly replies. "The church hired me along with Thorkell to protect you. Naturally, I joined that shitty church of yours. Never really understood that Jesus fellow." He trails off as he snaps his fingers and remembers his words. "Vampires leave a sort of residue, I saw some around the church. Next thing I know, I hear you moaning and I see a Vamp banging on the side of the confession box."

Canute's heart rate picks up as his hazy memories fail to fill in the gaps. He does remember Thorfinn. His seducing tongue, his traitorous fangs, his erotic actions. How he— "Wait, did you harm Thorfinn!?" He blurts out suddenly as tears threaten to spill from his eyes. One of his hands moves from his chest towards the mark, it's soothing now in a way. An emptiness fills him, yet somehow, he knows that Thorfinn isn't dead.

"Woah, woah there, didn't know you guys had fucked that much." He snickers unhingedly. "Unfortunately, I did not. He got away from me and took you with him!" His face morphs into a pout as he shakes his head. Canute sighs in relief as one of his fingers gingerly caresses Thorfinns mark.

"Coward! I want a worthy vampire opponent and he keeps slipping from my hands!" Garm angrily stabs his spear into the side of the rock as he grins. "Least I got that one scratching on the side of the box. Didn't put up much of a fight. Froze like a stupidly pathetic deer." He repeatedly stabs the rock to get out his frustrations.

Canute's feet scream for relief, his mind for his church, and his heart for his love. He loves God, always. He gulps as he shakes any straying thoughts from his mind. "Garm... I..." Canute trails off as he everything has gone blank.

His eyes shoot back up towards Canute as a wide grin plasters itself onto his face. "Oh the tunnels, yeah? Let's you get you outta here. Thorkell is just a few turns down." He states in a cheeky manner as he springs up. He taps the shoulder of Canute as he happily trots along, deeper into the network of vampire tunnels.

Canutes stumbles as his feet are bloody messes. Garm doesn't look back nor slow down his walk. He is oddly excited to be in this situation, despite having lost his kill. "You always talk a lot during your sermons. Not so much now, eh?" He mutters as he looks back at his partners struggle. He rolls his eyes and grabs his hand while pulling him along hurriedly.

"How do you know of this place? You called them 'vampire caves'." Canute inquires hesitantly as he attempts to keep himself decently covered... to no avail.

"Oh, I know my way around here. I go through the vamp tunnels as they're like shortcuts. They connect to all the dens filled with those promising opponents." He giggles maniacally as he bumps shoulders with Canute. "Technically, mortals aren't allowed in this place. Bullshit. Good practice. Always an opponent willing to try (and fail) to cut down the undefeated Garm." He proclaims proudly.

"Oh." Is the only word that is able to escape his chapped lips.

"Oh?" Garm snorts as he comes upon an impatient Thorkell. They have come upon a lightened exit. The lively sound of animals and the content forest in a stark change of pace from the depressing and alluring charm of the tunnels.

The giant looks at both Garm and Canute with a pleased smile as he adjusts the weight of his twin axes over his shoulders. "Look at how spry you two are! We'll surely catch Thorfinn now!"

"You're right, Thorkell! I get to battle him first!" Garm declares as he shoots a threatening glare towards Thorkell. Canute places his weary foot back and this isn't unnoticed by Garm. He tightens his firm grip on the unclothed arm of Canute.

"No fair! I've been hunting him longer!" Thorkell whines softly as he stomps around.

"I found our bait, so I get the first stab at him."

In less than a blink of an eye, Thorkell has one of his axes near Garm's throat. Garm expertly blocks the swing with his well-crafted spear. "Very well. Only one stab. Then, he's fair game for either of us to kill."

Canute interrupts their bickering with a statement. His voice is shaken and once again his dread creeps within him like a vine ensnaring his soul. 'What is wrong? Why must my moods be ever changing?' "Bait, you said? It is highly illegal to use a servant of God as bait for one of those beasts!"

Garm and Thorkell both make eye contact with each other as they have a hearty laugh. "Who says the church has to know?" They both ask in an unnerving unison. They look like cackling hyenas within his shaded blue irises.

"You despicable Vampire Hunters! You have no honor!" Canute spits out in an exasperated manner as his face tints slightly red.

Thorkell does the scariest thing a mortal can do. He goes quiet. He has an outburst of white, hot rage as he grabs Canute and presses him against the side of the cave. The slimey stone digs into his soft flesh so harshly that a quiet whimper escapes his lips. "You, have no honor. You are a priest! A coward! You fight no battle, you only sit upon your mighty hill and past arrogant glances towards us all!"

"You know what they say Thorkell?" Garm snickers mischievously. "The bigger the dick, the better the warrior."

Thorkell casts his glance down towards his private areas and then nudges Canutes legs towards the side forcefully. "I suppose both Garm and I are definitely better warriors than you."

They laugh in a monstrous manner, Canute can't tell which monsters he'd rather be with. He hangs his head in utter shame as his cheeks burn brighter than any flame that has put those unrighteous to death. His back slowly leaks his crimson tears of unholiness as his feet are torn by the roads of the fallen before him. The last drop falls into the depths of the darkness and rolls off as the two men shout about something that Canute is unable to focus on. They drag him to the edge of the tunnels carelessly; he's handled like a common slave. He's forced to stand as he takes a step out into the sun. He hisses in the most excruciating pain that he has ever experienced.

"Little priestess, did you really think that you could escape me?" Thorfinn mutters out in a sweetened manner. He stands nonchalantly near the edge of the darkness. His finger swipes across the edge of the cave as he collects a bit of his lovers blood. He sticks it in his mouth as a pleased moan escapes his plump lips.

"Thorfinn!" The hunters shout excitedly in unison.

Thorfinn gnarls out demonically as he sees his injured lovers state. "You bastards! To hell with the both of you!" He clenches his fists so tightly that his lifeless tissue tinges a brusied violet.

"We'll take you there with us." Garm challenges as his spear ends up precariously sitting on the edge of his lovers adam's apple.

Before Thorfinn has time to react a hand tugs on his shoulder. "No time Thorfinn, I'll let Bjorn deal with those life breathing morons." A strangers honeyed and irritated voice barks.

"Fuck off old man; they're mine."

"No." The word in spoken in all finality. No room for argument.

Canute is thrown towards the ground in surprise as a force of nature falls over the entrance of the cave. A force so strong and mighty that even Canutes soul trembles heavily. It is as if even the stench of death and sex that wafts from the caves is overpowered. It is a beast.

"Good man Bjorn, rip the hunters apart. We must be going." The estranged voice states passively. As if the wild creatures aura was more of a comfort than a fear.

The pleased shouts of the beastly hunters are drowned out as that foreign ooze seeps into Canute's very core. A moment later, it has once again disappeared, and he falls into Thorfinn's arms. He is barely able to see through the haze of his eyes, as the temperature here is more frigid than that of the church. A figure walks up to Thorfinn in this. He can't see; all he knows is that he is in the caves still.

"Thorfinn~" A cheery yet masculine voice beams. "A little birdy told me that you saw the hunters today. Was Garm there?" He inquires eagerly, barely able to contain himself.

"Elisei." Thorfinn sneers flatly. "You've got angel blood all over you."

"Don't avoid the question love~" Elisei purrs out as Canute is detached from Thorfinn momentarily.

"Go fuck yourself!"

"No, I'd much rather do it with you and Garm." Elisei giggles in a crazed manner as his hand gently pats the top of Canutes head. "Prey?"

"I am not going to be part of one of your weird vampire sex orgys." Canute is barely able to see Thorfinn spit on Elisei and Elisei thank him. "Don't you dare lay a hand on him. He isn't prey... he's it."

"Wait, so you saw Garm today and you got to taste the blood of the one?" Elisei squeals as he drags his finger across Canutes neck. "Bastard, you marked him." He states in a desperately pouty tone almost the same as Garm. "No worry, I'll just give him one of my own."

Canute is barely able to make out the shape of this Elisei character. He is about the same height as Garm and has long, shaggy brunette hair. Canute weakly covers his neck as he backs himself into one of the earthen walls. He looks in the direction of where Thorfinn stands with pleading eyes.

"I am going to—"

"You two bitch like dogs in heat." A gruff and gritty voice mutters as a burly arm tugs on Canute.

"Bjorn, you're wings look like they could use some trimming~ I've got a special potion that I could—" Elisei is cut off as well.

"Quiet vampire witch. Lest I rip your fangs from your mouth and sacrifice you to Askeladd." The beast Canute met earlier now one hundred percent confirmed as Bjorn.

"He's mine." Thorfinn mumbles as Bjorn shushes him with one of his wings.

"He is a mortal. He was harmed when you so carelessly left him in one of our tunnels that was explored by humans. He needs a bath and a warm bed. These are direct orders. End of discussion you brat."

Bjorn raises Canute bridal style and carries him within his powerful arms.

"Thank you..." Canute mutters weakly.

Bjorn doesn't reply as he moves to carry out the order given to him. Although, an invisible smile etches across his ancient features.

[shinjisdone]

To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 8)

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

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

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

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

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

Part 4 is here - Thorfinn unwittingly opening his heart as he realizes he does not want you to die

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

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

Part 6 is here - meeting Canute and becoming his guard - Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

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

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

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

Tag list: @luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets

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

[This part will specifically mention: conversations about love in general (but hinted at to be the Christianity's view of unconditional love. I tried to have it a bit more character-focused), qestioning your bond with Thorfinn, Thorfinn being stupid, speeding through the plot because Canute and Askeladd are the main characters now I guess]

You're Gonna Make Me Go, You're Gonna Make Me Drown...

The snow is cold.

Even as everything is barren and clad in a gravely sick and whitest cloud of snow to let the prince know it is a dream, the snow below still feels cold.

He sees the blood on Ragnar and he knows how cold he feels as well but compared to all that he has known in his life, the rest of the world seemed far colder.

The man stays warm even as he begged him not to go. As he threw caution to the wind at his wise words of loss, of how he must awaken and grow.

He tossed it all aside.

Yet the outside world is harsh and forced his awakening with a splatter of blood.

Canute awakened and saw a familiar back. Under him he could not feel the cold of the white snow of the blankets he laid upon as another round of blood dared to taint his skin.

A viking he reckoned as Björn bellowed like a yet-to-be-seen beast as he threw his arm back yet again to cause another blow to a skull. His eyes wide and milky as he wildly smashed about him. To the left, was the priest with his alcohol. In front of him, with their back facing him, was you.

"...You've woken up now, finally." You soberly began as you watched the one-sided fighting, "Björn and the rest of the band are fighting over you, prince. Whoever wins gets to keep you...and everyone but Björn is ready to abandon Askeladd."

"...Everybody but Björn and Thorfinn."

You explain the fighting before you and the one behind the hills. Askeladd taking hostage and Thorfinn dueling for his right to kill him. You, are stuck here.

The atmsophere is awkward. It was as if the roars of battle did not exist, as if the bloodbath before did not exist - rather there was a silence that was drowning. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that Canute bore the same demure face as you.

"...I've had a dream..."

He began with the faintest of smiles...

"...Ragnar was there and he bid goodbye. He's gone, I know that...now," He seemed to hesitate as he took a deep but shaky breath, "Now...there is no one in the world left who loves me anymore..."

You look back to the ground below you. The snow under had long melted, your hands red and freezing from the contact of it. Your voice barely found the strength to be anything above a whisper. "...I am sorry, prince...I never wished that upon you. This shouldn't have happened but Askeladd is..."

You gritted your teeth. Askeladd was many things...and he seemed to not have an ounce of...care in his heart for his band.

Why are you surprised? The man, the killer and kidnapper of royalty...the leader of a band so vile. Yet it still hurt to be here.

Hearing something shift behind you, though you were still lost in your own, useless thoughts.

"Why...are you out of all people apologizing?"

The grave tone in his question made you snap your eyes to him.

Canute's eyes, though red, seemed...cold and deep.

The evident frown on his face was now a scowl, however, one of slight confusion. Did he...always look like that?

For the first time, you hear him say your name.

"Why...are you out of all people not fighting?"

You startle as he so boldly took ahold of your shoulder. Before that, the prince barely could glance at you.

"You seem so rueful...yet you are one of them who brought me here. You took me hostage just like Askeladd, but you still provide me with your comfort."

Feeling yourself rise and back away from the young man, your eyes widened, mouth silent. Yet Canute did not let go.

"You provide me with your comfort, your pity, your blade and weapon. With your body as a shield yet only out of obligation. You shared your rations out of obligation when Ragnar was no more but still did so with a smile. Why?"

Canute finally seemed to frown.

"The day before...you have killed for one. You rose your blade to kill for Thorfinn and willingly tainted yourself with blood, with sin for his safety. The day after that you shared the warmth and laughter as if none of that happened."

"Prince..."

"You kill and attack everyone but each other...your kindness does not reach anyone but him. I must have simply been lucky...or did I seem so meek to you to lower your guard? For you to be so merciless and ruthless to bring the slightest bit if goodness to a man who is just as cruel...and now you are here demurred by all the unfairness of it all? Is that love?"

Startled like a deer, you shift back. Canute spoke in riddles to you...or, perhaps, the word 'love' did linger in the back of your mind from a time far before your viking era?

That is up to you - but it cannot be denied that this royal must have lost his mind.

"When you kill for each other, is that love? When you indulge in your jokes, is that love? Is it love that you two share while you spare the rest of the world none?"

"Is that a bond of love?"

Moving even further back meant facing Björn and while both men seemed unnerving right now, you'd rather face the perplexing Canute. Though you cannot give an answer to his riddles.

"Do you love Thorfinn? And does Thorfinn love you? I've been wondering that since I knew you two."

You look away. It is hard to say whether or not you spared love any thought since your time here in Askeladd's band. The man and the rest of these vile creatures did not seem to know any love. Not Björn who was killing his own comrades, nor any of the men below the hills that were indulging in the art of battle and its entertainment.

Yet did you know any love?

Did you know love when graced by the shines of the sun? Did you love the feeling of winter, even as it tried to freeze you to death in the darkest of nights? Did you show any love to the critters you've killed for food? Did you know love when greeted by Thorfinn and his many snarky remarks? If so, did you love him from the beginning, when he was his cold, stark self or did you gift him any now, now that you know you could trust him?

Trust him now, even after he left you here to fight for the killer of his father?

It is strange.

It is strange as Canute discussed with the priest. As he compared the love of Ragnar and that of Thorfinn - to which the young prince took offense to.

"Both of them are discriminating. They prefer parts of the world over another. Your Ragnar preferred you over a village, and the young viking seemed to not hold any love for anything but this one." He pointed at you.

It is vile. It is discriminating, their love. They do not love all as they should. Perhaps they couldn't.

And so, the priest pointed at you again; "And this one is no different. You know love and you discriminate. You kill and steal and now drown in the consequences of your lacking love. You showed it out of pity to His Higness, I presume...but it still holds nothing. Even you, as you hold the young viking boy dear to you, can only show unconditional love in your death."

You could only watch with wide eyes. Were they right? Were they wrong? Did they know love better than you did?

Did you even know what all of this meant?

Did you?

It did not seem so.

For you stared in awe at the sight before you - the meek Canute craddling the face of a wild beast, Björn, as he struggled to swing another final blow. Eyes watched intently as he lowered his bloodied fist and held him close to his heart. Embracing him like a mother - a brother - a kin - a hurting heart!

Shocked, you stumble up on your feet as Björn regained concsiousness of his dazed state. This weak royal calmed someone as bloodlusting and barbaric as Björn!

You barely could breath and so was the priest. Mumbling about a miracle as Canute ordered the rest of the surviving men to tend to his wounds - as if he was deserving of tenderness - and to ready a sleigh for him. For he was injured, and the injured needed treatment.

The men berated of the unfairness of it all. Of the rules of fighting and of the winners and the losers. One shall be graced with victory while the other shall suffer.

The prince turned to you, ordering you to help him gather the lost horses as well. Even now his touch was firm but gentle.

"I shall show you the meaning of your battles as well. Even your death if I must. For you still hold an inkling of love...I can offer you paradise on earth if you let it happen."

Feeling Like I'm Living In Your Shadow...

He lost conciousness for a good moment, he know he did...and even though it felt like an eternity, he reckoned he flew higher than the birds...

Even after Thorkell broke his arm, he was still standing. Standing there, tall and alive as he kept asking him the same question.

"Do you know what makes a true warrior?"

Is it the valkyries and their offering hand? The promise for Valhalla? Does one need to die with honor or simply have a high body count?

Thorkell admitted on hoping the son of the man stronger than him could answer the conundrum. But the young blonde was only lost.

Lost on how to kill him. Askeladd had promised to find a weak point but so far the giant bastard has yet to stumble and fall.

His daggers are tainted with his blood but no matter the many slices, Thorkell was not admitting defeat. He challenged him to a duel, he sliced his chain mail, got his arm broken and Askeladd is on the verge of bleeding out...

The cheers of the men around him was deafening, too.

As it felt like an eternity to this fight, Thorfinn did not even notice that he wasn't thinking about anything but Askeladd.

Thorkell promised him tales of his father, who he apparently knew, but even thinking about Thors would only make him lose focus.

He couldn't afford to think about his father right now. Not about his mother or sister, Askeladd or you.

He could only listen to the hollers, the wind, Throkell's steps and the words of wisdom leaving Askeladd's mouth...

"Y'know, it almost seemed like Thors did love my niece Helga..."

Thorfinn backed away from a swing of his axe.

"So is love what makes a true warrior? Ah, no...couldn't be it, now could it?"

Thorfinn blocked it all out. Focus on the axes. Cut through the ankles and biceps. Win and you'll be fine.

And so he seemed to be. Blinded briefly by the reflection of Askeladd's blade and hit in the head, Thorkell fell into the snow. With a bellow, Thorfinn casted aside his shock and went for the eye.

He can win this. He'll win Askeladd back and kill him in a duel himself. He'll win, he'll win!

Whatever else may happen after that does not matter.

And so he won.

Enough not to have him and Askeladd be slaughtered by the others and having escaped with a mere scar and broken arm.

Canute descended the hill and with him, a small army of Thorkell's men. To his right were you, riding close by with a frown that could frighten the men. Thorkell watched the prince's bravery and equal foolishness. His lack of fear irritated the viking but he still believed it to be better to become his vassal instead of being his kidnapper.

You got off to tend to Björn, fastened at the sleigh, just like Canute ordered. As Thorkell's band followed the young royal with perplexed faces, Thorfinn tagged along before his eyes widened at the sight of you.

Running up to you, the calmness that overtook him due to his victory ceased and he almost panted like a dog as he finally reached you. One arm in a sling while the other hovered above yours - almost wanting to grab hold of it.

"You alright?" He panted out as his eyes looked you up and down - and so did yours.

The young fella was truly worn out. Even though he was lucky his arm had only been broken, bruises are surely soon to follow. You couldn't see any blood, blood that wasn't his at least, but it was clear that him even being able to stand could be considered a miracle.

The idiot gambled with another round with Thorkell the Tall, after all. It is a miracle he was alive.

"I am." You responded in a whisper, looking away with a frown. Without another word, you followed Canute.

I Know No One's There, I'll Stay, I'll Stay...

Thorfinn trotted after you like a confused child.

While staying close to the prince, the young viking talked to you mundanely as if nothing had happened. The tales that Thorkell told him - who was strolling alongside Askeladd with a tune - and how he knew about his father. About his mother and the many battles Thors had fought, and how he suddenly seemed to give it all up.

He told you how he now seemed to become a vassal for the princess, as if you had not witnessed it. Thorkell the Tall now following orders from soft Canute out of all people. The same man who almost made mincemeat out of the both of you.

Now there he was, strolling along with his eyepatch.

"What's the matter with you?" Thorfinn rose a brow.

You glanced to him. Arm tightly in a sling as if hugging himself, though his bored gaze made it clear that he was anything but concerned for his own safety. He had talked and talked ever since you met up again but not once did he ask you about your experience up the hill.

It was irrelevant to him. As long as you weren't beaten or bruised or killed, any kind of incident did not matter to him.

He did not even ask if you needed to fight for your survival. If you had to kill any previous bandmates - they did not matter though you could understand from where he came from with that logic.

They did not matter.

No one is left anyway. Eradicated either by Thorkell's, Askeladd's or Thorfinn's hand. Whether or not you helped out with getting rid of the vermin did not matter in the end.

None of that...was love, was it?

"Nothing." You curtly responded and focused on guiding the horses.

You cannot believe how much of an errand boy he was playing.

The meeting with the king was intimidating enough - you thought your good intentions to Canute would grand you to be on the good side of the king but he was keen on assanitating his own child. Canute seemed well aware and, with Askeladd by his side now, planning to kill his father himself.

It was intimidating. The meek, fair princess now plotting murder. He was so small to you, a frail bird too scared to fly - now he intended to conquer the sky.

You wished you weren't there. But as Canute introduced you as his guardian, you didn't really have a choice in this matter.

If you are female, well, having you there might do more harm then good. King Sweyn questioning his son's sanity on putting his life in the hands of a woman.

Still, what is done is done, and Thorfinn played along nicely. Both you and Askeladd could see that. The young man was training despite his broken arm, made a self-made sling or what you assumed to be support as he stabbed through the air.

The evening was cold but not refreshing to you. Spending the night in the barn next to the inn, where everyone merrily ate and celebrated the prince's safe return, you strolled along the house as if lost in a forest.

The inn was warm but unwelcome, even if Canute was in there. He ordered food to be prepared for you and Thorfinn but you'd rather wait outside than go in (Again, as a woman going in might be a bad idea).

The door opened and you watched Askeladd carefreely taking a piss on the snow. He grinned at you. "Not going to come in, into the warmth? The food is good."

You declined, saying that food would be prepared for you. The older man clicked his tongue as he shook his head. Pride is going to freeze you to death. Just look at all the men he lost.

"Only you and Thorfinn remain, oh, and Björn, too. What are you going to do after all this, eh, kid? I wouldn't call you loyal to me."

Scoffing, you turned away. Perhaps you did have a plan. Wanting to run away to a far-away place, start your own viking band or stay as Canute's guardian. Or maybe, you were as clueless as Askeladd made you out to be. Wandering like a lost child.

"Are you just gonna keep following Thorfinn like a pup? Or maybe he'll keep on clinging to you after he got his revenge."

You turn to him with a glare. Askeladd truly was an enigma of a man...does he hate you just as much as he hated his other bandmates? Why does he keep having you around when Thorfinn is a much better tool? Even now he does what he says in order to get a duel. And why would Canute, the one who spoke of love to you, recruit a cruel man like Askeladd?

You couldnt find any answers that night. Thorfinn kept on stabbing through the air, only the aroma of food making him stop. He gobbled it all up and you kept on pointing out the scraps of food stuck on his lips. Watching him eat, you absent-mindedly called his name.

"...Why do you keep me around, Thorfinn?"

The blonde let out a confused noise. You took a scrap of meat off his cheek before eating it yourself.

"Why would you ask that?" He kept on stuffing his mouth. Truly, why? He was the one who asked you that question many months before, he was the one confused by your behavior and actions. Yet here you are putting his into question?

"I don't want you to die." Though he kept on eating, his eyes stayed downcast and his voice barely above a whisper. Still, that was enough of an answer to him. It had been before. But you did not seemed satisfied by it.

"It's just strange." You mumbled and inhaled sharply to gather your words, "Thorfinn, do you-"

You halt, then hesitated. There was furstration in your eyes that even he could make out.

Was his wish for your survival his gracing of love?

Then why did he not love when surrounded by the sea, by land, animals and food?

Why did you gift love to the one companion to when he aims to murder out of honor?

Sighing, you sat back and leaned against his shoulder. Swallowing the last crumbles, Thorfinn wrapped you in a blanket as best as he could with one arm.

"Take this. It gets freezing cold here at night."

"...Why is my friend such a fool?"

You whispered and Thorfinn let out an offended 'huh'? He flicked your cheek before making himself comfortable. "You're acting so strange."

[faire-rosalind]

This is pretty much the time when I started taking screenshots of the manga (not that there weren't many worthy moments before but I was in such a rush to get to the material I haven't watched in the anime😂). I just moved all of them into special album, turns out I have 420.... I'm obsessed I admit it hahaha. But let's talk about these few chapters that involve Canute's character development. I'm biased, I know, but they were some of my favourites. Also the fight between Thorfinn and Thorkell was such a nice parallel taking place during this time. I actually remember that I was so neutral about Thorfinn back than that I thought along the lines: ehhh, Thorkell is going to die and that will make me more sad than if Thorfinn did. To my surprise Thorkell survived (woohoo! So happy, I really am not into him loving war and all of that but you can't deny he's such a charismatic character) and little did I know back then that Thorfinn would go to become my second favourite character. Oh how the turn tables. But speech about love and Canute's new outlook on life! I think this is truly a philosophy that one has to deeply think about to understand, but then again is it a true philosophy if you don't have to think hard to fully understand it? When a priest first said that love that people feel was not love but discrimination my face went like huh🤨 at the moment. But more I thought about it the more I understood what he meant. People really can never truly achieve the love god possesses, since god created everyting and therefore he loves everything without any exceptions. Humans do not love like that, they find people, make connections, friends, have children and love them and are ready to risk lives of hundreds just so they can protect the ones they love. Some may try to love everyone equally, but that godly ideal of love can never be truly reached. I saw some divided opinions about Canute's character development, some love it, some say it doesn't make sense. To me it did. I think he had these three father figures in his life who he felt protected him. His biological father lost that place or probably never had it in his eyes. Than he lost Ragnar, he's true father who did give him everything that one dad could give his son. Lastly he realized that god, father in heaven, didn't give up on him or people, but refused them heaven on earth and even if there is heaven somewhere in the afterlife these vikings would never go there. So to achieve true love he must also obtain heaven even for those who don't deserve it and only way to do that is to create one on earth. That's the reason why I think Yukimura makes this parallel between him and Thors. Not because they both are completely similar people but because they are both warriors. And true warriors do not need swords but I would also argue that true warriors need a worthy cause that is not selfish. Those who fight for something greater even if that "greater" is hardly achievable. Thorfinn definitely joins these two later in the story, I love that time when he meets again with Thorkell and he tells him he has more of that look Thors had. Anyways I really liked this part of prologue, I unfortunately think I can never truly put into words how it made me feel and stuff it made me realise but maybe some things are not meant to be explained but experienced. Thanks to anyone who is crazy enough to read❤️

@chengsandagan111 tagging you because you asked, would love to hear your opinion!

[thecalamitywitchalessandra]

Vinland Saga Ep 14 Spoilers

That was... an unfortunate massacre, I wasn’t sure why we were with this family until I saw Askeladd in the snowstorm. A good reminder of how ruthless Askeladd is! Or even how brutish the culture is, because “Pillaging is part of tradition” as Askeladd says. I just love the contrast of the Norse to Christianity. Love has been brought up a lot these last few episodes. Not exactly familial brotherly love like the two brothers were talking about or sexual/romantic love, it’s love for man tying in perfectly with Thors’ “You have no enemies”. The Priest’s reaction to the brothers telling him about their battle with Thors was interesting, telling even. I could really go on and on with religion and philosophy going on in this episode... ahhh it was good. I’ve started reading the manga (because I can’t keep waiting till Sunday for the next episode) and it looks like it’s gonna be waifu Prince Canute, Food Wars style. There wasn’t a lot of Thorfinn, but it looks like we’ll see a lot more of him next episode.

Also, I didn’t bring this up last time, but I got the feeling that King Sweryn wasn’t asking about Canute because of concern for his safety. He wanted to be sure that he was dead... there wouldn’t be any other candidate besides Caute’s older brother, no obstacles, which would be what he wanted... why? I’m not clear on yet, but yes, leaving Prince Canute with 1/5? of the soldiers to take London against someone like Thorkell and his men, and it was getting close to winter is like a suicide mission.

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Vinland Saga episode 16 was fucking brilliant, holy shit. It’s been a hot while since I last watched an anime episode that I just didn’t want to end, oh my god. Askeladd’s just continues to be this ridiculously fascinating lead, and that feeling of not knowing how in control he really is is just the most tense fucking thing. And then there’s Thorkell’s endlessly entertaining pursuit as well. Lowkey if we move on from this conflict and we’re only following Askeladd, Bjorn, Thorfinn and Canute, maybe Ear and the priest as well idk, I don’t even think I’d be sad, if it means less CG crowd shots that’d be pretty fun. Curious to see where it’ll go.

[aotopmha]

Episode 18 is the first time I've felt iffy about Vinland Saga.

I feel like Canute's change was too sudden.

I like the idea of it, in fact, when taking this episode as it's own, self-contained thing, I feel it has some great writing, but looking at it as a whole, after such careful staging for all the other characters, this felt a little too quick.

Character resolve needs to be earned, but we barely see him deal with Ragnar's death.

Dealing with grief is a much more complex and time-consuming struggle than this and it feels like the story skipped all that just for instant gratification, the one element I was really grateful for Vinland Saga not doing.

The emotional beats make sense - Canute rejects the idea of accepting the meangingless fighting and suffering that he sees his faith push on him.

He sins in the way of rejecting the perspective he sees Christianity propegating. Suffering for the lord is the purpose of life. Hence the imagery in the episode of the apple taken and the apple bitten, except, perhaps it's just the opposite?

He realizes Ragnar's love was "selfish" and there really is no selfless love in men, so he decides he would do so that there was meaning to it all, thus actually in a way starting to live by that idea.

On it's own, I think this is great, but I think this huge shift, to the point of his speech changing, shouldn't be so sudden.

Maybe there is more to this and maybe it's just meant to be him snapping, but I feel like one dream talk with Ragnar and a talk with the priest doesn't really give enough weight for his resolve to feel natural.

I don't think it's entirely weightless and luckily not entirely unbelievable and as I said, I think in some ways even great, but for a series I see as being so careful and skillful about character building and as it having this as it's strongest point, I feel it is in some ways also clumsy and rough-handed.

Perhaps later, as we hopefully (and logically assumed) get more to this, it'll work better, but for now I am in some ways iffy about it.