#then sigurd and basim returns

[teecupangel]

DesmondxHytham???

@fanworldbuildingfun and I had this idea where Desmond gets kicked into AC Valhalla’s timeline and he builds his own Brotherhood because he thought the Assassins didn’t exist by this time and it ends with his Brotherhood and Hytham’s bureau having some kind of turf war.

That could be our jumping point with Hytham being both annoyed and impressed by Desmond’s informants and recruits while Desmond is just under the misconception that Hytham might be some kind of proto-Assassin (which he is, the problem is Desmond doesn’t know about the whole Hidden Ones history since that was lost in time, hell, Amunet was only called a ‘proto-Assassin’ and isn’t even remembered as a founder by this point). 

So, once Desmond is sure that his Assassins would be okay without him for a while and all of their bureaus are safe at the moment, he goes to Ravensthrope to check the competition.

What does he see?

An overworked lonely man who was nice to everyone and who looked at him with wary at first, only to show a friendly side once Desmond told him that Eivor sent him here (a lie) to help out.

Desmond starts helping out in Ravensthorpe, doing errands and hunting. Sometimes, he’d help bring deliveries from nearby settlements. Other times, he’s working as Randvi’s messenger for any settlement conflicts that arises.

In his free time, he checks up on Hytham.

At first, it was because of his Hidden Blade.

He had seen Eivor’s Hidden Blade and knew that she was wearing it wrong but he had assumed Eivor had gotten it from one of the Proto-Assassins or something.

But Hytham…

Hytham was the one who told him about the Hidden Ones.

About Alamut…

And, now that Desmond thought about it, it made sense that the Assassins didn’t just sprung up out of nowhere. They had to have come from somewhere.

A secret organization stationed mostly in Alamut would make sense, Desmond supposed.

Hell, he had been thinking of going to Alamut himself but that was mostly because there were memory seals in the Temple underneath that he could use to leave messages for Altaïr and maybe even the ‘next’ Desmond Miles.

But this…

This changes… well…

Not much, really.

Desmond has no plan to join the Hidden Ones. He has his own Brotherhood and they’re doing well on their own.

It sucked that they didn’t have Hidden Blades but being an Assassin was never about the Hidden Blade.

It was about the Creed.

And it seemed that the Hidden Ones also had the same Creed.

So…

Desmond stayed.

And he tells himself that he’s staying to learn more about the Hidden Ones.

Hytham stresses that he was not a mentor (“Yet.” Desmond adds, making Hytham chuckle and rub the back of his neck) so he cannot recruit Desmond but Desmond just waves it off, tells Hytham that he’s interested in the history and the traditions of the Hidden Ones.

And Hytham indulges him…

They have tea over it.

One time, Hytham showed him how to perform a leap of faith and it took all of Desmond’s willpower not to be a total showoff like Hytham was.

.

.

And then…

Eivor returned from her latest successful alliance and she sees Desmond in Ravensthorpe.

They talk and Desmond tries to tell her that he’s not here to sabotage Hytham’s bureau or whatever malicious plan Eivor believes he’s capable of.

Hell, the whole turf war between the Brotherhood and the Hidden Ones was started by a very gung-ho recruit and it’s not like Hytham had any other people in his corners other than Eivor and some informants.

It would be like pulling the pigtails of a girl peacefully making her sandcastle.

“I know we both have a list of people that should die and that’s not exactly peaceful, Eivor, I’m making a metaphor!”

But Desmond is good at making people do what he wants so Eivor just sighs and agrees not to say anything… for now.

If she even hears a hint of Desmond planning something nefarious against Hytham, she’d kick him out of Ravensthorpe herself.

And Desmond agrees.

.

.

So Eivor began to observe Desmond.

She tells Randvi that she’s doing it because she wants to make sure she did the right thing sending Desmond back to their home without her (and she wants to smack Desmond on the back of the head for making everyone believed she had invited him).

That’s when she noticed it.

What everyone in Ravensthorpe had noticed before.

Desmond and Hytham…

… were definitely acting more like a couple in the middle of courting one another than actual friends.

And that’s when Randvi told her that…

All of Ravensthorpe agreed not to say anything to either of them because watching them be oblivious to one another was more fun.

And Eivor…

… can’t help but agree to that.

[magstorrn]

chilling in the ravensthorpe longhouse after sigurd just completely ruined holger's life and suddenly the disembodied voice of basim thanks eivor for taking good care of hytham... like you're welcome bro but where are you

[frenchoravocadotoast]

Take me back to Constantinople

Hytham (AC: Valhalla) x GN!Reader

Word count: 2704

A/N: I finished reading The Golden City a few days ago and I'm inconsolable :] Have some more Hytham content! (because I fell down a rabbit hole)

Had Hytham been told that he would challenge the tenets of the creed again, he would have vehemently denied it.

Constantinople had already been a tedious enough task to complete, and with his feelings involved, the young man swore to never get attached again. The life of an assassin was always on the run, never stable. He wasn’t meant to stay anywhere.

But then they met Sigurd. He and Basim traveled to Norway with him, then to England – and then Kjotve happened, and now Hytham had to stew in his disappointment as he healed from broken bones. His journey of travels ended here. At least he had the bureau to keep himself busy, as well as the lavish dinners to keep him fed and entertained. He liked it when there were get-togethers in Ravensthorpe. 

Like the one from a couple of days ago.

The assassin didn’t know what the reason for the celebration was – not that the vikings needed any. As long as they were promised food and booze at the banquet, they would gladly pillage and conquer any village they were asked to. Hytham had to admit that their logic was pretty efficient, if not a little too simple. But with Eivor, it was different. Her loyalties lay with her own virtues, a moral compass that luckily aligned with Hytham’s; and thus, she would willingly carry out any task that the Hidden One needed of her, even without the promise of a full belly and a drunken tongue.

She’d done a lot for him and his creed, and he couldn’t bring himself to say no to her when she insisted that he attend the celebration. She knew Hytham tended to overwork himself. There was paperwork to finish, new feathers to stock – hell, even the bureau itself was a mess. If Basim were to return with Sigurd now, and find the bureau looking like a rabid drengr had rummaged through it, Hytham would probably have to spend the rest of the month cleaning up the place rather than working up the ranks. 

He pursed his lips, not amused by the idea, but he tried his best to focus on the moment regardless. The clan members had come to form a circle, swaying to the tune of the music, and clasped their hands together as they stomped their right feet in unison. Hytham could feel the tremor under his own feet, and the laughing of the people echoed all over the room, pulling a smile at his lips too.

For a group of drunkards, they danced with great passion and expertise. Practice, Hytham shrugged. It definitely wasn’t their first night drinking and pissing mead, and dancing until their feet hurt. The circle spun faster and faster as the music enhanced. The dancers paired up to twirl and jump, and through the motion blur of faces and twirling dresses, Hytham saw it. Well, he wasn’t quite sure he’d seen it, but the smile looked familiar enough – and as the dancers continued to spin, his eyes settled on you.

He was right, then. You had indeed joined the circle. But your steps were calculated, and you lacked the drunken sway of the vikings who could barely keep themselves upright. Your smile shone bright, and your eyes crinkled under its pull as you switched partners with a woman. Her cheeks matched the tone of her ginger hair, and you somehow managed to avoid getting splashed by her drink, horn in hand.

Hytham’s eyes softened. It was moments like this that made him feel at ease, with no fear of an uncertain future or the haunting of a dark past. Everyone in this room had their fair share of demons, even the children – but they somehow possessed the power to forget about everything for the night, swinging and swaying to the music as the smoke from the bonfire fed off of each chant.

But there was something about you in particular that fascinated Hytham. Perhaps it was the way you carried yourself. The way you spoke, your presence. Maybe it was just the way you looked at him last week, when he’d taught you how to use his throwing knives. He was fixing your posture, and perhaps you’d noticed that he lingered close for too long, because Hytham caught you looking at him on numerous occasions since then. 

There was something there, he mused. A potion brewing quietly, and you were both none the wiser. Even now, the mere memory made Hytham’s fingers twitch as he watched you disappear on the other side of the circle.

“You’re staring.”

He stiffened, not wanting to give the woman the satisfaction of his reaction. 

“I’m just watching them dance.”

Eivor huffed out a laugh, dragging a wooden stool and plopping down next to him. From the corner of his eye, Hytham could see the blade of her ax glimmering under the candlelight.

“Basim was right, you’re awfully transparent.”

Hytham met her eyes, slightly offended. “He said that?”

“You can’t deny it if it’s true,” the blonde shrugged, nodding in your presumed direction. “Why don’t you ask them for a dance?”

Immediately, the assassin clammed up. It must have been an amusing sight to Eivor; a trained killer with a blade strapped to their arm, refusing to approach a person of their interest. When he and Eivor first met, Hytham had gone into detail about the imperative need to separate one’s feelings from their work – to allow such a thing could greatly compromise both his life and his creed. But it was a blurry line for the likes of him, a game that tested their loyalty to the brotherhood. The young eagle knew that line had been tested before, trespassed by his peers and predecessors. It hadn’t ended well for them – after all, the life of an assassin was short. It was built on sacrifice rather than yearning, that was the true purpose of a Hidden One. But now, Hytham knew he was once again at the mercy of his own heart – and what would that make of him?

Human, the little voice in his head said. It sounded an awful lot like Basim, and the acolyte was sure he could almost hear the older man’s trademark smirk. He must have trespassed that line too, at some point in his life; and Hytham couldn’t blame him. He was almost tempted to do it for the second time, too – perhaps he was spending too much time around the man. 

Hytham gave the viking woman a tentative smile. “You know I’m injured. I shouldn’t be dancing anyway.”

Eivor cocked an eyebrow, like she’d been expecting him to say that. 

“I thought it was your ribs that were broken, not your feet.”

Hytham frowned, frustrated; not because of her insistence, but rather because of her ability to read him like a book. Unlike his mentor, Hytham lacked the talent to keep secrets, and he was seemingly obvious to everyone except for himself.

“I don’t know how to dance,” he tried again.

“And they do?” Eivor laughed, looking at a drunk man who tripped and dragged his dancing partner down with him. Hytham could smell the alcohol on their breath from his seat.

“They’re too drunk to care.”

“Hytham.”

“I know you mean well, Eivor,” he softened his tone, shaking his head. “But I believe I should sit this one out. My ribs have been hurting again, and I wouldn’t want to aggravate them.”

It was a lie, and Eivor knew. Nevertheless, without questioning him, the woman sighed and stood up with great effort. She squeezed his shoulder in one last attempt to encourage him, but Hytham only patted her arm. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, or that he lacked the confidence to do so – but Hytham felt like he’d be intruding if he were to approach you now. You gleamed and danced amongst the other dancers, stepping over the bodies of the people who had succumbed to a drunken sleep. You moved with the kind of expertise he would almost envy if he weren’t a skilled fighter himself. 

Someday, he told himself. Someday, he would try to talk to you again. Not now, when you seemed to be in your own world. Hytham was content with just watching for now.

»» ──────ஓ๑♥๑ஓ ────── ««

That day came sooner than Hytham expected.

The scenario was oddly familiar. As per your request, you were in the training yard once more, graced by the presence of a slumped dummy. The assassin didn’t stray too far from you, observing your posture as you readied another throw. 

“Remember to aim for a pulse point.”

Hytham muttered, not keen on interrupting your focus. You were deeply concentrated, he could tell. Your gloved fingers gripped the dagger tightly, readjusting your hold, before you pivoted and hurled the weapon at the humanoid sack. The blade hissed through the air and past the target, and the scowl on your face darkened.

“Damn it.”

The assassin smiled in amusement. Throwing knives were cheeky little bastards – they seemed to have a mind of their own and strayed wherever they pleased. And the wind today didn’t seem to be working in your favor, either. These weren’t the best conditions to be training; but for the two of you, spare time was just as slippery as the flying blades. The second you could find time to spend together, you’d take it.

So Hytham respected your choice to continue training. It was a good enough excuse to spend time with you, at least until he ran out of knives.

He drew another one from his belt, nodding at you. “That’s alright. Try again.”

You took the dagger from him, and perhaps your impatience was starting to get to you, because just a few seconds later, the knife was cutting through the air again. This time though, it embedded itself into the crotch area of the dummy, and true to its humanoid appearance, it slumped over as if it were in pain. Hytham let out an incredulous laugh, warily eyeing the dummy.

“Wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”

You grinned in triumph, satisfied that this one had struck the target. “But this would still work, right?”

“I suppose it would,” he hummed, instinctively handing you another knife. It was the last from his belt, and Hytham was relieved to know that he would soon be retreating back into the warmth of the bureau. He propped up the dummy before joining your side again. “Try one last time. Here, I’ll help you.”

Your posture was better than last time, but it still needed fixing. The man waited for you to curl the knife up to your opposite shoulder, before leaning closer to hover at your eye level. Gauging the distance by moving into your space was unnecessary, he knew you were capable enough to do so on your own. You knew you didn’t need him either. And yet, Hytham relished the side glance you gave him, one that lingered on his face longer than he’d expected. He fought back a smile as he reached to lift up your crooked arm.

“Focus on the target and take your time,” he reprimanded you playfully. You ripped your eyes away from him, and Hytham swore he could feel the heat emanating from your cheeks. “Your arm should be fully outstretched in a straight line. Aiming too high or too low will miss the target entirely, and you’ll quickly lose range advantage.”

He let go of your elbow when he was satisfied enough. Your eyes were trained on the dummy, unblinking, and the leather of your gloves groaned when you tightened the grip on the knife. Your voice was a soft mutter, but Hytham heard it. 

“You know, you sound a lot like Basim.”

The man gave you the ghost of a smile. It seemed the little voice in his head was starting to seep into his voice now, too.

“Well, he is my mentor,” a pause, and Hytham was tempted to speak again despite your focus. He added quietly. “Would you prefer his tutoring?”

“No. I would much rather enjoy your company.”

“And I yours.”

Another pause, and then, you flung the knife again. It cut through the air with a hiss, glinting for just a second before it sank into the neck of the dummy, and the stray strands of straw fluttered down at the stab. Hytham grinned as your eyes widened, and drew back to look at you properly.

“Good job,” he winked, promptly walking back to the mannequin to retrieve his knives. “Remind me to never get on your bad side again.”

“So this is how you do it?” you asked, and Hytham’s smile softened at the awe in your eyes. “I’ve seen you fling daggers from greater distances with just the flick of a wrist.”

The man shrugged, at a loss for words. He was never good at taking compliments, especially when they were this genuine. “It’s a matter of practice,” was all he said instead. He nodded at the bureau just as you joined his side.

“In that case, I’ll have to whisk you away more often. I need you to teach me how to do that.”

Hytham repressed a grin, but he couldn’t hide the blush on his cheeks.

“You know I won’t complain.”

»» ──────ஓ๑♥๑ஓ ────── ««

Complain? No, he could never.

Hytham didn’t know what it was that pulled him towards you. Other than his feelings, of course. Was it the way the fireplace of the bureau cast shadows on your face? The depth of your eyes, perhaps? The tender caress of your lips against his? Too many questions ran about in his mind, and no answer was valid enough to satisfy him.

There was one thing that did satisfy him, though; and he knew right then and there that he was doomed. The kiss started off with a peck –Hytham wasn’t sure who had leaned in first–; but then came a second one, and then another one, which turned into a lingering kiss. He felt the heat of your sigh, the gentle nudge of your nose, the caress of your lashes against his skin. The blood in his ears was roaring at your touch.

If this was how training ended every time, then Hytham wouldn’t have minded teaching you more often.

You had somehow found your way to the shelves. His body pressed you against them, caging you in his embrace as your hands cradled his face; and here, hidden away from any witnesses, your lips came to create a dance and language of their own. Hytham pulled back, desperate to relieve the burn in his chest but not leaning too far either. Your breaths intermingled once more as his finger skimmed over your cheek, and he whispered.

“I’m starting to think training was just an excuse.”

He felt you smile against his skin, like he had caught you in a lie. Perhaps he had, judging from the glint in your eyes.

“It wasn’t, at least not in the beginning,” you paused, interrupted by him as he surged forward to catch your lips again. Your words etched onto his skin as you whispered through the kiss. “But then you refused to dance with me at the celebration, and I had to come up with a new idea.”

Hytham stilled, and your smile widened at his reaction. He glanced between your eyes, trying to read you like he’d been trained to do in his novice years. It was so obvious now that he looked more carefully – maybe he was too distracted by his feelings in the past to even notice what you were plotting. That seemed to be a recurring problem for Hytham. His cheeks grew warm again, but his small smile said he was impressed.

“I was set up.” 

“Took you long enough.”

“You’re devious,” his words were teasing, but the assassin felt his eyes soften the more he looked at you. Your arms around his neck had never felt so welcoming. “Perhaps we should make a Hidden One out of you.”

“Only if you continue teaching me how to use the knives.”

Hytham grinned, whispering against your lips. “Deal.”

[canaidliafail]

Fulkes undoing

fulke x f!reader drabble 🗡️

quick idea I had where you are one of Fulkes soldier that you have an intimate relationship with. Eivor kidnaps you in hopes that this will make fulke give her brother back. Sorry I unfortunately am a fulke enjoyer

when does the reason become the blame ? When did she fall so deep that her hand crafted soldier became her absolute undoing ?

weren’t you just her lackey ? sure you had spent countless nights exploring each other's bodies, mostly her exploring yours but even so, weren't you just someone to abide to all her whims and blindly follow her faith ? Then when ? How did she find herself in this position ?

It only took a second. a moment of weakness where Eivor, seething with anger, looked for her soft spot. Something to threaten her with and in her vulnerability her eyes darted over to you in concern. That was enough.

Eivor leaped and wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling them back, pinning them against your back and her axe was flat against your chest the tip pressed against your neck. You stopped breathing a thick clot forming in your throat from the supressed oxygen and eivors voice felt heavy right by your ears

“My brother in return for your woman” she threatened, still having reason within her to make a fair offer. What Fulke was building brick by brick to hide , Eivor had figured out in seconds.

You saw Fulke, looking collected, tall and cold as ice her blue eyes having a heated battle for dominance with Eivors. The ice blue darkened, a storm was brewing tainting the skies of her mind. You were familiar with that look

“She is but one of my soldiers” Fulke tried the words, flattening them, trying to unravel the situation unceremoniously but her pinky finger twitched and her breathing pattern grew deeper. she was at Eivors mercy at the moment

“I could replace her by dinner. Can you say the same for your brother ?” she teased with a sharp, thin smile but Eivor didn’t waver. she lowered her axe and pushed you towards a man who grabbed you with equal force. -Basim- as you recalled.

“She isn’t just a soldier fulke. That much I could tell. Bring me my brother tomorrow and I’ll let her go. Dont make me change the deal by saying an arm for an arm as well”

Fulke turned her back waving goodbye and grabbed a horse. The rest of her soldiers followed her lead heading back. She prayed that you understood this was an act. that she hadn’t abandoned you. In all honesty though she was lost and she felt cold sweat prickle her skin and dampen the fabric of her back

this may very well be the last day she would see you. Could she possibly find Eivors hideout within 12 hours, find you and then bring you back to her chambers where you could stay there safely and out of sight.

She had worked all her life for this moment. She couldn’t just give sigurd back. Sigurds prophecy was her life's purpose. She grew gloomy and grim. “Hej!” she called out and whipped the reins harder, urging the horses to pick up their pace.

what was the solution

what was the answer

what

what….

Had her God abandoned her or did she perhaps abandon him while pursuing you?

[almakfi-m]

yours is a heart stowing secrets. from sigurd…

basim laughs, so quietly that sigurd's eyes widen with offense.

"and that frustrates you."

it's a hot night, even in the bureau that sits by the bosphorus. sigurd's cheeks bear the flush of sunburn and ayran, and by the start of the evening he had already discarded most of his princely pelts. he would find them, neatly piled, on his bed—in the room reserved for him at the bureau. the place itself is near empty, except for a couple of nervous novices that don't seem to know what to make of the viking's presence. the rafiq, an older assassin with a scarred face, seems lax about it. he's been trying to communicate with sigurd all evening, and refilled his drink when all other attempts failed. he's a man who has had his fair share of strange allies, and is not accustomed to questioning his superiors.

but throughout the evening, candles have burned almost to the hilt, the plates have been cleared and jugs with water, wine and turkic ayran are empty. a couple of novices requested an heron feather. basim studied them carefully as they disappeared into the street. come morning, they will return with a bloody feather, inshallah. or they will not return at all. he does not spare them more than a thought.

on the rooftop of the bureau, where sigurd sought relief from the heat inside, a cool breeze blows. he asked about the feather—in a strained but not quite drunken greek, almost in practice, he asked about many things; his head tilted back, chest heaving with full, content breaths. some answers he gets. basim speaks slowly, half greek and half norse, and the words come to him although he cannot tell if the effort to look for them is a conscious one. and the viking does not try to look unimpressed. at least as long as basim indulges him.

some answers he does not get. he's tense about it, and dangerous as a high-strung horse. basim speaks soothingly, as to pacify one.

"ease, prince. you are among friends." he studies sigurd's reaction as it washes over the horizon of his pale eyes like daybreak. common sense and suspicion have nested there, with the high of alcohol gently fading, but also the thrill of the challenge. like a wary cat, lured with food so delicious that it makes it worth the risk.

and the food is knowledge. he's the one.

"i will not tell you everything, but i will not lie to you." the language of norsemen slips from basim like water. "is that an acceptable arrangement, sigurd?"

the boatman's daughter.

[warmaiidens]

i should have been here. this is my fault. ( randvi to eivor )

Eivor had been bedridden since returning from Norway. Odin was gone, there was such a relief in that; his voice no longer haunted her every thought. Her back leaned against the bed, not having to hide anymore but now could freely be in Randvi's room. Sigurd had left, he needed to find his path now and Eivor knew they had to part ways. They both had grown and changed over the years but at least he bore her no ill will.

"No," Eivor immediately shook her head, not wanting Randvi to feel any guilt. A part of her wanted to get out of bed and start moving, but Valka had demanded bed rest. The wound Basim had given her nearly killed her, but the healers in Norway had managed to save her life. And when they returned to Ravensthrope, everyone in the longship made sure Eivor was comfortable and doing nothing; they did not want to lose their new Jarlskona.

Callous hands reached out to touch Randvi's palm. "This would have happened whether or not you were there. I'm glad you weren't, Basim's mind had become lost and I don't know what happened to him. But he would have hurt you. I'm here now, and we can start a new life and new path in this town,"

[serpent-sariah]

Shadow of A Doubt

Loud thunder clashes the night sky, lit up by mounds of snow, shining as a flash of lightning flew by. The area around them froze with snow, a mournful fog looms over them, setting a dramatic scene.

Through another clap of thunder, a mournful blast of the return horn by Bjorn's lips, the call carrying through the settlement of Ravensthorpe.

Their best shieldmaiden is carried in the steely arms of Orm Stórolfsson, her head nearly hanging limp off the side, her body is broken, bruises and cuts litter her face, her skin almost paler than the snow. She is in a simple roughskin tunic and trousers, bandages wrapped along her arms. Her armor being sent off to Gunnar by Freydis.

Orm is flanked by Sigurd, Vili, Brondolf, and Ivor, closely followed by Bjorn, Yrsa, and Bragi.

It is not the trudging of boots on hard, stiff snow that gets the acolyte's attention. It's the mournful blast of the horn by Bjorn, closely followed by rushing voices, something about getting someone in the longhouse as quickly as possible. That caused his heart to drop, his pencil actually clattering to the floor, and the sharp stabbing pain of a dagger to the heart, what should've been excitement turned to horror, watching the men haul the unconscious body up to the longhouse.

"Ya alhi," the words escape his throat before he could think, catching up to the group, his own breath catching. His eyes fixated on the limp body in Orm's arms. "What has occurred?"

"It pains me to say," tears hang in Sigurd's eyes, as if he blames himself, "Basim did this."

The acolyte nearly freezes in place. "Basim? Oh dear Heavens. I do not understand. He loved you. He loved Eivor!"

"I do not understand it myself. The man was raving mad, Hytham. Like a rabid wolf. We cannot speak of this as of now. Eivor has need of us now."

Hytham’s heart lurches, watching as Orm places the unconscious war hero on her bed of straw, eyes closed and breathing labored. If it not for the ragged rise and fall of her chest, he would've thought her dead, skin pale, eyes sunken in, noting the blood loss she endured, a cut out whole in her roughskin tunic where the inflamed injury was, the cloth soaked through with dried blood.

"So, did you find what you were looking for?" the advisor asks, pulling Hytham out of his thoughts at her appearance.

Sigurd's head hung. "We did, but it was not for us."

"And the marks on her back and neck?" She notices as Yrsa and Valka look her over.

The question causes Sigurd to rub the back of his neck. "A failure going unnoticed trying to find what we were looking for. I know I have these myself, but truth be told, I think she's one of the Immortals now, despite her grievous injuries."

The comment makes Hytham gulp and Randvi cocks an eyebrow, looking at him curiously. The two know Sigurd is one because of Fulke, and the acolyte caused of Kjotve.

It takes Hytham a couple of minutes to ask the question, fearing the worst. "Did she--did she die?" The words felt like dust on his tongue, causing him to swallow.

Their Jarl hangs his head. "She did... for a time. When she returned to the land of the living, she mentioned that her father, Varin, said something about immortality."

The acolyte sinks to the wooden floor, his knees pressed against his chest.

"You are not happy she is immortal like you?" Randvi asks. "It means you can be with her for a millennia or longer. Something I wouldn't mind being a part of now that Sigurd is one."

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves, dear wife," Sigurd presses a kiss to her cheek. "It would be a heavy burden to carry."

"No, I know. It's not that," Hytham shakes his head. "I am happy to spend all that time with her, I am just..." his heart aches as if a thousand needles were lodged into it, weighing it down into the pit of his stomach. "I am just trying to process everything... as well as Basim's betrayal."

Before the other two could respond, Yrsa and Freydis made their stride over to the three of them. When the girls had first seen their childhood friend's condition, they were frozen in place, eyes big and wide before Yrsa made the first move of helping Sigurd get Eivor in the longship.

Hytham is quick to his feet. "How is she?"

"We've done everything we can, we just have to be patient," Yrsa gives his shoulder a comforting pat. "She will wake up. We are just not sure when."

It didn't make him feel better, honestly, his shoulders slumping and she notices.

Yrsa gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "As long as I have known her from the Bear Clan, she is made of strong stock. She will pull through this, and she will wake up. I promise you."

However, he can't speak, tears welling in his eyes. The whole village was affected, but it hit him the hardest, as if his heart was pulled from his chest and ripped to pieces. Maybe it was his persistent injury. Maybe it was more than that. He hasn't even told her how he really feels, and it almost feels like it's too late. All he could do was give her a simple nod, Saphira coming to nuzzle the palm of his hand with her nose.

When he is able to speak, he swallows back a sob. "What- What injuries did she endure?"

Yrsa gulps. "As you noticed, a severe stomach wound, bruised ribs, and Valka noticed a pulled muscle where the wolf scar is."

"The neck was surely caused when Basim pinned her down, about finding something that wasn't there," Sigurd states.

"You were in the fray?" Randvi places a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"No, I heard the commotion. Basim was not in his right mind, if he ever was," his face becomes stone-cold.

"Sigurd, what are you thinking?" Randvi fears her husband's answer, pulling his arm closer to her and rubbing it. "What's on your mind?"

"She wouldn't be in this position if..." his touch turns cold, as well as his heart, as he draws in a sharp breath. "I failed her... I should've..."

"Sigurd, honey," Randvi cups his cheeks, catching a few tears on her hands. "You have not failed your sister. She's here because of you. She's going to survive because of you."

"We do not know that," he persists. "Her wounds are grave. We could lose her again."

"But I thought you said she is now one of the Immortals," the acolyte looks up at him.

The jarl blinks, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Right. Forgive me. It has been a long journey. I need to step out for a moment." He walks past him.

"'A long journey', my butt," Vili sneers, stopping him in his tracks. He points an accusatory finger at Sigurd, who rose his head, a look of surprise on his face. Vili grabs him by the collar of his vest, throwing him to the ground in the longhouse, and hitting him with the back of his cloak. "You... complete... dip-stick, Sigurd Styrbjornsson! That's my best friend in there! The same one you allowed to get maimed because of your vision quest!" It was still obvious he had feelings for the shieldmaiden, and wasn't doing him any favors with his outburst.

"It is not as black and white as it sounds," Sigurd tries to explain, watching the rest of Eivor's crew pull back the raging vikingr.

"'Not as black and white as it sounds'?" He repeats. "You left us stranded for five days, not knowing if you were alive or not. You show up out of the blue with Eivor on her deathbed over your shoulder. If it wasn't for Yrsa when she awoke, she would've been completely gone. If it wasn't for Orm, we wouldn't have stopped to make camp or get her a healer in Fornburg on our way back here. What a sorry excuse for a brother AND a leader."

"She protected me from Basim's sword," Sigurd tries to defend himself, noting the surprise on Hytham's fave and the stiffness in his posture. The surprise turned into a disappointed scowl.

"That doesn't make up for you leading her to what was a death trap," Vili throws his arms into the air.

"I had no idea Basim was following us," Sigurd presses. "Knew nothing of the treacherous snake's ambitions."

"Sigurd, I had high hopes that you would bring her back with no harm," Hytham clasps his hands behind his back, but he could feel the blood boiling, and resisted the urge to attack him. "You have broken my trust in both. If she does not recover from this, I will never forgive you for as along as I breathe. I was planning on asking her hand in marriage, but you may have stripped me of that."

"Out! All of you!" Randvi raises her voice to be heard. "Valka and Yrsa need no interruptions while addressing Eivor's wounds, and you are not helping."

The raiders holding back Vili complied to Randvi's wishes, but as Ivor walked past Sigurd, he connected his green-gray fist to his nose, and a sickening cracked that made Hytham and Randvi's stomach turn.

[warmaiidens]

The boast of her will power made Eivor grin, as she was not one to shy away from compliments when they came from the spartan. "I'm glad you believe so," Eivor said, as she reached over and squeezed her forearm as well to match Kassandra's. "Come, to the longboats. I will prepare the rest of the clan to head home, so we can get our wounded and our jarl back home," Eivor was so pleased with what had occurred here. They finally could return home, return to what they knew.

She laughed as she pointed her finger. "Just watch, I'll prove I am as ravenous as any wolf. I'll meet you at the longship," Eivor said, before turning to head back to camp. It took half an hour, to gather supplies, as everyone packed up the long boats. She thanked those who joined the fight that was not of the Ravenclan and ensured that Basim could get Sigurd onto one of the other longboats. He could not command for now, but she would take lead til he could.

"Back to Ravensthorpe. We return home to our friends and loved ones," Eivor shouted toward the crew who cheered and started to row. Eivor settled down in the back of the boat where she could watch up front and looked toward Kassandra. "I hope you're ready for quite a feast and revelry. The tanks will be open up and we will drink til we cannot tell the sky from the ground," Eivor grinned.

Kassandra was intent on staying by Eivor's side as long as she needed in order to get this out of her system, to calm her troubled thoughts and rejoin everyone else. Knowing Eivor wouldn't dare let the others see her in such a state of concern or distress, even if she managed to hide it well enough around others. The facade of strength, Kassandra knew it all too well. Patting her shoulder, the misthios returned the small smile.

"He can try all he likes, but you've already proven yourself stronger anyway." Eivor was one of the strongest people she's ever met, if anyone could keep the voice of an Isu from taking over them, it was her. As Eivor stood, Kassandra moved with her, nodding at her as she gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We do." Or at least, others did. Her fate was predetermined, a god told her what needed to be done. But she has accepted her fate as much as she could allow.

"Now that I would like to see." She said with a chuckle.

[maddiethecanadianassassin]

We got some more updates about the next possible AAA title coming to the franchise, focusing on Basim! This will contain spoilers for those who have yet to learn of Basim’s full story in Valhalla.

- The official release name will be Assassin’s Creed Mirage, with an estimated release date window of May-June 2023.

- Game will take place in the year 860-870 in Baghdad, following Basim in his youth starting out as a thief and meeting the Hidden Ones for the first time.

-Over the course of the game, we will learn how Loki manifests and take control of Basim’s body, seeing visions of the God of Mischief.

- Similar to the older AC games, will be able to visit multiple cities and there will be a return of the older and original game mechanics with little to no RPG elements in this instalment, such as the return of the OG eagle vision.

- With RPG elements being removed, that means Mirage won’t have a leveling system, dialogue choice, and no gender choice as Basim will be the main protagonist.

- Basim’s signature weapon will be a String Dagger.

- With all these new and returning assets, there’s been rumours circulating that these developments are also helping to get the blueprint down for an official remaster of AC1 with Altair!

- AC1 remake will be integrated the season pass for Mirage, including a DLC of Basim and Sigurd meeting for the first time.

- Ubisoft is set to announce this and much more in September 10th during the Ubisoft Forward event.

[vikingnerd793]

🚨not a spoiler alert but a lot of end game theories. If that’s not your jam. Scroll past this post.

So I’ve picked apart the trailer and my theory about the ending is:

Eivor refuses to convert, knows she is a threat to her people if she stays as they will come for her. Ravensthorpe converts and assimilates to survive. A protector until the end. I think everyone stays behind except maybe one person. Fully expect tear jerking goodbyes with Valka and Gunnar. I doubt either goes with her.

Sigurd returns to Norway, takes the throne in Fornburg under Harald’s banner. Eivor says goodbye not just to Sigurd, but Styrbjorn (or he dies and this is why Sigurd returns to Norway) AND I have a feeling she says goodbye to her parents by visiting Heillboer. I think Varin never being removed from the longhouse (that creepy bug so many of us have, that doesn’t make sense for it to be there as his last scene was him dancing with Eivor and then leaving the longhouse, not just standing there…) may have been a cutting room floor cut scene that is brought back.

I think she makes peace with Havi and that conflict is not truly a conflict, but a co-existence of some sort.

I think Randvi leaves with Eivor, or, when Eivor is old, the final scene we get is Randvi finding her in Vinland. If she does stay behind at first, that breakup is going to be HARD to play through.

I think all those animus anomalies is going to be Basim finding out what happened to his sons (so, possibly the death of his children at Ragnarok) as that’s why he went into the animus to begin with.

I have to wonder if Basim will regret betraying Eivor on some level as he will come to respect her, and realize she truly never knew the full extent of who she was and why she was that way. I got the sense she didn’t in the trailer. Not sure her brain will ever fully process it.

And finally, I think Eivor being buried in Vinland is intentional. Like the whole fate thing, it sets events on a linear path that will be the only way Basim is stopped. Whether Baldr plays a hand in this, or Eivor knows her fate has to be in Vinland for a deeper reason, or both, I am unsure.

I’m putting money down on most of this being correct. And my money is on Darby not having her go out sadly, per say. Just doing what she had to do to protect her loved ones. A much better legacy because of her choices and staying true to herself, not what Havi and the harsh world she lived in tried to make her become.

[gamergirl-niffler]

Wife’s Touch - Male!Eivor x Reader

PART II 

I love Valhalla!

I love Eivor!

So this one scene in the game... I was honestly as sad and mixed as he was...

SO AS A FANFIC WRITER I DECIDED TO FIX IT! Because I am a Fic writer and BECAUSE I CAN!

This man deserved to be happy!

BIG Thank You to my @martakasravi​​ for checking my messy writing and for giving me tips for improving! Thank you for putting up with me and with my writing.

This story is placed in actual evenet that takes place during the main plot. So there is a spoiler. JUST A WARNING! IN CASE IF SOMEONE SITLL DID NOT GET TO THAT POINT.

You walked into the longhouse and immediately went to Randvi. "Any news?"

"None, all I know is that all our alliances will join Eivor,” she said as her fingers tapped the top of table nervously. She was seemingly worried. You couldn't blame her, you were worried as well. After all it was about your husbands.

While Sigurd was kept locked and tortured by some madwoman, Eivor axed and clawed his way through anything and anyone who would stand on his way to his brother. He was ready to burn the whole England if it meant finding and bringing Sigurd back to settlement.

"He will find him this time. You know that Eivor will do whatever he can to find Sigurd. He will succeed,” you said softly, touching her shoulder gently in an attempt of bringing some comfort.

Randvi nodded, giving you a flat smile. "What the healer said? Is there any reason why you are so sick all of the sudden lately?"

You smiled as the bit of happiness sneaked into your heart. "In a few months there will be a new little raven in the family."

"By gods! This is just the news we need, something good finally happened. Evior will be so please," Randvi hugged you tightly.

Giggling, you nodded and hugged her back. "I really hope so, I can't wait for him to be back. I want to tell him as soon as possible."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Your next few days were filled with simple tasks.

You helped Randvi and talked with women that already had children, they all were surprised that you asked about maternity but at the same time gladly answered your questions.

One afternoon you joined Randvi in the long house.

There was still no news about Sigurd or Eivor.

"Oh Gods...," You heard Randvi gasped and immediately followed her gaze to see Sigurd with Basim.

There was a wave of happiness that washed over you. The Jarl was back home. Lost arm wasn't a good thing of course but the most important was that he was alive and back in Ravensthorpe, reunited with his people.

When Randvi ran to her husband's side, it suddenly hit you... Eivor wasn't with them.

"Basim... Basim," you stopped the man and looked at him. "Where is he? Where is my husband? Where is Eivor?," You asked with a fear in your voice. Your mind was already creating the worst scenarios.

"Eivor stayed behind in the fortress where Sigurd was held, reinforcements showed up. He and others decided to take care of them while we leave," he explained and soon walked away to assist Sigurd.

You felt relief, it was more than sure that he could survive and that he will return to you.

Placing your hand over your belly you sighed. "It's okay, your father will be here soon."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Night wasn't as bad as you expected.

The happiness from the upcoming return of your husband kept your soul calm which made the fear and nightmares simply drift away, letting your body rest.

Morning was a little hard.

You tried to get up but Eivor's wolf did not let you do that. It was a typical morning. Waking up with Chewy's head on your belly and hearing it growls every time you tried to get up was sweet but uncomfortable. At least it showed that wolf listened to Eivor's words and eventually was letting you get up.

Day was filled with preparations for the feast.

The Jarl was back where he should be and it was only fair to celebrate such a thing with a party.

You helped as much as you could until there came another good news - Eivor was back! You quickly left the longhouse to meet him halfway.

"My love! It's good to be back!" Being wrapped tightly in your husband's warm and strong embrace felt right.

Sighing deeply you nuzzled to the bit of soft fur that was a part of his coat. "My warrior! You are back, I was so worried when you didn't return with Sigurd."

Eivor grabbed your cheek in his giant hands and looked at you, happy to see you. Returning to you and having you close always brought him confort. This time as well but there was something more in your whole person and he couldn't really put his finger on it. "But I am here. I am here with you again. Just as I promised before leaving,"

"Just as you promised," you confirmed with a huge smile on your lips and giggled when your husband pressed his forehead against yours.

It was a simple and small gesture but it meant so much to both of you, simple we are together again.

"Come," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let's go, there is a big feast for your brother. I more than sure you want to talk with him."

The Longhouse was already full of people, the whole settlement was here.

People looked happy with the party, food and of course Sigurd.

Sadly, he did not look happy, not at all. You hoped to see at least a little smile on his face, after all he was back with his people.

Letting go of your husband's hand you gave him a smile with a little nod. You didn't want to part with him but you knew Eivor and his love for his brother. While he had his moment with a dear brother you joined Randvi who was talking with Gunnar and Yanli.

"Sigurd Jarl. Back where he belongs,” Eivor said loudly, opening his arms proudly. "Oh, I missed you, my brother," he crouched next to Sigurd's throne.

"Yes, you missed me. Once or twice, I hear," Sigurd said flatly, taking a sip from his pitcher.

"What?," Was all that Eivor could say, a confused frowning on his face.

"You took your time to find me. Was it for this, to enjoy your time on my throne?" Sigurd asked harshly, looking right at his brother.

"I did only what you asked of me," Eivor assured.

You could clearly hear the shift in his voice, the happiness melted and was replaced by sadness mixed with confusion.

"And slew all those who questioned you?" Sigurd gave Eivor another impossible to answer question.

Eivor looked at Sigurd. To say he was confused was an understatement, he felt deep sadness. His own brother doubted him. "That is not what happened. Randvi... Randvi will tell you."

"O yeah, will she? My dear wife, brought to me as a gift by her clan to pacify my ambition. Yes, I'm sure she will be the one to tell me the truth!" Sigurd muttered lowly.

You could see poor Randvi looking at her husband. It was painful to see, he was never like that toward her and now he was talking about her as she would be just some kind of object.

Eivor slowly rose to his feet, looking at the Jarl with a frown. "What did that witch Fulke do to you?"

Sigurd quickly followed Eivor getting up from his throne, towering over The Wolf Kissed.

"You could not even begin to imagine the thing I've seen. What I've learned. Born of gods, is who I am. A Lord of War! A Roman Mars! I know who I am, I know my destiny! And you will not hinder me!" He roared, pointing right at Eivor.

The raising voice of the Jarl turned many eyes toward him, and the room fell silent. Everyone looked at two brothers. Everyone was taken aback by that outburst, no one ever expected such a thing from Sigurd. He wasn't like this.

Jarl turned to look at his people.

"Brother…," Eivor began but Sigurd quickly cut him off.

"Forgive me, I am faint. Tired of the day and all that has passed. I need air."

And just like that, he walked away. Leaving everyone in the longhouse confused and shocked.

You sighed and followed Randvi when she walked closer to Eivor.

"He's been this way since his return. Could you speak with him? Settle his mind?"

The Wolf Kissed looked at her. "I can try," he nodded and then looked at you. "My love, I..."

You cut him off with a soft smile, knowing what he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize, he returned recently and still couldn't spend time with you.

"Go, try to talk with him. I will be here. I promise," you assured him.

Eivor quickly kissed your forehead and went to find his brother.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

While the brother talked you spent some time inside and then wondered outside, followed by a white wolf.

The air was getting a bit chilly as the evening came but it didn't really bother you. Chewy sat next to you and nuzzled to your leg. You smiled and pet it's head. "Eivor will be grateful for your help at keeping us safe."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Eivor's talk was pointless.

Sigurd now had his own imagination of himself. Imagine that Fulke forced into him by using tortures. This was horrible.

He was sent away, sent away to enjoy the feast. How could he enjoy it when his brother acted as if he was under some kind of charm?

He stopped near the longhouse, seeing you stand outside, petting the wolf that had to protect you while he was away. The sight of you only gave him the pleasant feeling inside.

The wolf kissed walked to you and immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he only can. He squeezed you and nuzzled to your hair, just to be sure you are here. That you are you, that you won't push him away and just leave and of course you didn't. Eivor moved to once again place his forehead against yours. "I feel like everything is slipping out between my fingers. It all feels heavy on my shoulders, I can feel them break. I cannot carry it all further, I am only letting everyone down."

You blinked listening to his words and quickly shook your head, cupping both of his cheeks before pulling away.

"Eivor... My love. Look at this," you said looking through the entrance of the longhouse.

Everyone inside sat together, ate together, danced, had fun. They all were happy.

"Now look at this," with those words you pointed to the settlement.

"We have all of this thanks to you, Eivor. Without you we wouldn't be where we are now. You helped build every building here, you found new friends to our clan, you fought and protected us all," you explained, looking right into those beautiful blue eyes that still were full of pain and fear.

"Everyone is thankful for everything you ever did for us. You are an important part of this place, without you it would fall a long time ago. You are important to me, every person here and Sigurd as well. Soon everything will be fine, it just need time."

Eivor listened to you and nodded. You were right, he was important and needed here. Suddenly he felt strong again. "I have no idea what have I done to be blessed with a smart wife like you," he whispered and kissed you.

You giggled at his words before returning the kiss gladly.

"I will always take care of these people and you. I swear to always protect you."

"Eivor... In a few months there will be more of us," you whispered, a bit scared of how he will take the sudden information.

He looked at you, shocked. "Are... Are you?" You could see the surprised smile paint itself on his lips.

Nodding your head, you gave him a smile. "Yes Eivor. I am carrying your child under my heart,” you told him proudly and soon you were picked up by your husband. Of course such an action got the attention of other people.

"Have you heard people! I will be a father soon! This beautiful woman decided to bless me with a child!," Eivor yelled and everyone in the long house cheered loudly, raising their horns.

Your husband laughed and set you down before kissing you deeply. "Thank you, you are my own blessing from the Gods themselves," he said, taking your hand and pulling you inside. "LET'S CELEBRATE!"

As soon as you two returned to the longhouse, Eivor was surrounded by men congratulating him while you were surrounded by women that were all excited about the new baby joining the clan.

At this moment Eivor could see things start to look better. It was a big start and he was hoping there would be more of such moments from now on.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

[teecupangel]

After Mirage I went straight to Valhalla for the first time cause I love Basim. I just got to the Oxenfordscire arc to when you free the thegns. And right now Im following Siguard and Basim walk halfway across the map becuase their horses are constantly running into them and this is harlarious.

Then I imagined it as another Desmond being reborn and him doing that to Siguard was too funny.

I’m going to assume this is another case of Desmond becoming a horse AU and roll with it XD

.

Eivor has no idea what was happening.

Desmond was one of the best horses in Ravensthorpe.

Hytham had been the one to capture him near their settlement a few weeks after they had landed.

According to Hytham, Desmond had approached him a day after he taught Eivor how to do a leap of faith and he managed to ‘capture’ him.

When Hytham recounted the story to Eivor, Desmond had let out a huffing sound that made Hytham hush him, as if the two were keeping a secret.

If Eivor was to make a guess, she believes Hytham didn’t capture Desmond and more like bribed him or maybe even pleaded with him.

That’s what Eivor learned about Desmond.

He does not do well with being pulled or hit. He’d even kick and jump away.

But talking to him and asking him to run or to go left?

He’d do it if one was to ask nicely.

Or…

Eivor’s try and tested method, give Desmond berries.

They were meant to be Eivor’s emergency provisions but berries were plenty around these parts so she didn’t mind sharing them to Desmond for a much smoother ride.

That was why she had not been surprised that Hytham has asked Desmond to be Basim’s horse.

Basim had been amused with his acolyte talking to a horse like he could understand him but he humored Hytham and spoke to Desmond the same way.

Sigurd had been confused but paid it no heed.

And Eivor whispered to Desmond to behave.

And now…

Eivor has no way of explaining to the two men that the horses are running away from them because Desmond ordered Sigurd’s horse to follow him.

She had seen Desmond do it multiple times before.

She was already starting to believe Desmond is not just any ordinary horse… that he might even be a shapeshifter…

Might even be Loki in disguise.

She was sure Desmond is doing this not to tease them but because he had gotten fed up as well.

Or…

Maybe Eivor is just projecting her own feelings.

What she will say is that…

There really was no need to get even her horse to follow him, making them run towards them until they’re near and just running away.

Soon, Sigurd was going to snap and tell them to just find new horses.

And only then will Desmond and the horses return and let them ride them.

Eivor was sure of it.

[sonnefuchs]

Come Rattle These Bones

Freshly returned to Ravensthorpe, Eivor stepped off her longship glad to be home.

Leaving her warriors to be settled in the Jomsvikingr Hall she spied Basim sitting outside at the Orlog table.

"You play? A man of hidden talents." Eivor exclaimed walking up to Basim playing with Sunniva.

"I am a man of many talents. You are welcome to discover them all. What say you? Shall we go a few rounds?" Basim said with a smirk.

Eivor narrowed her eyes but sat down with a thump. She nodded and settled down to play.

"I've been told I'm quite good at rattling the ol' bones." His eyes held mischief.

"Something I must experience. Where did you learn?"

"Travelling to many ports with Sigurd gave me ample opportunity to study it. Your brother is quite the...reveler..."

Thinking back, she recalled Sigurd starting brawls and trashing taverns in his drunken enjoyment.

"Shall we wager?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

She pulled a heavy bag of silver, fresh from her latest voyage, and dropped it on the table.

Basim nodded and pulled a purse of his own, placing it carefully across from hers.

They played. Basim was a tough opponent. They traded blows each conniving with different tactics, pushing their polished stones away when hit.

One final blow and he had removed all of her stones. Only one left to his name but still victorious.

With a groan of defeat, she leaned back. "You play well, friend."

"Ah, my prize." His hands reached out for the bag of silver. "Unless you'd care to try these hands again?" He said, tilting his head to the side holding his hands out, dice in his palms.

She nodded fervently and racked her stones back into place.

Right when Eivor reached to flip the coin, Hytham rushed over, mouth open, eager to convey something to Basim.

"Not now Hytham." Basim said lightly.

"But..." Hytham tried

"Is it a matter of great imperative? Must we rush on steeds to a battlefield?" Basim continued.

"Well no but..."

"Well, then it can wait dear boy. Eivor and I have some bones to rattle."

Flipping the coin Eivor said tails.

"Ah heads." Basim grinned.

[assassinscreed-photomode]

You know what Ravensthorpe friendship has serious potential that I never see talked about? Hytham and Randvi!

Hytham and Randvi is a broship that has serious potential. Both stuck in Ravensthorpe all the time. Both were brought into that community. Both spend all day pouring over scrolls and maps and letters and all that administrative stuff that needs to get done but is overlooked by most people. It has the potential to be a brilliant mlm/wlw friendship. Randvi with her confident personality and Hytham being shyer could make for great interactions.

Just imagine them co working together, either in the bureau or in the war table office. Either silently working in unison or Randvi in exasperation venting to Hytham about maps, and correspondence and keeping track of all the alliances and not getting enough credit. Randvi getting Hytham to open up about his likes and dislikes and asking him blunt and embarrassing questions. Them really bonding about the circumstances that lead to neither of them getting to leave the town very often. Randvi occasionally just brings an entire bottle of wine and they just drink it, work abandoned.

Then both of them find solace in each other when Sigurd returns distant and different and cold towards Randvi, and at the same time Basim leaves for longer and longer amounts of time and tells Hytham less and less. Both feeling confused and lost.

I imagine not everyone in Ravensthorpe is fully aware of the nature of Hythams work or the presence of the order in England. It is kept mostly within the inner circle.

So as Sigurd and Eivor and Basim are off getting more and more deeply entwined with the Order, there’s not too many people in RT that Hytham or Randvi can share their worries with except each other. At first they just spoke to each other because there weren't that many other options but soon a surprisingly strong bond grew. Randvi didn't really spend any time with Hytham and Basim at first, thinking they were distant and strange and even after coming to RT, Hytham is so shy that he would unintentionally come off as standoffish.

But as they began to speak more and more both their personalities started to come out around each other and soon they would make their co working days a regular thing. She liked to hear more about where he was from and where he had travelled and if there was anything she could do to ease his injury and how he de-codes these Order letters, and he liked to pick her brain about how she ended up marrying Sigurd and joining the clan and her fighting style and Eivor and her opinions on the different members of the town, and Eivor again.

Later down the road they both noticed each other's love-interests interest in them before they do. Randvi would ask Hytham plainly and bluntly, making him go bright red. He would ask her indirectly, making her laugh.

Randvi teasing him with her dry sense of humour and him not getting the joke until after a second. Hytham is not very good at friendly insults and dry humour but after enough time with Randvi he starts to pick up on it and snipe back, much to her joy

Randvi is a social butterfly whom everyone likes and Hytham wants to learn her secrets.

Well that was a bit long but I stand by what I said!

[fabricated-misslieness]

Basim Ibn Ishaq x student gender neutral reader

Oh to thirst for Basim… I am very interested in ac: valhalla theories. Who knows if it’ll become a permanent fandom?

Hopefully the theory and photography ac: valhalla blogs do not find me.

Time is unknown, could be after meeting Sigurd, before Sigurd, before Hytham, after Hytham.. Who knows? It’s merely unstated, not mystery. There should be no spoilers, as far as I know.

Requested: No

Word Count: 757

You stare at each other, hidden blades out.

Cuts sear in your arms. They’re small and not deep, but they burn and sting like a fire. You ignore them, you have to. Basim, in turn, is nearly unscathed. ‘I don’t get hit.’ is his reply every time you ask how. He insists that it is a mere jest when you roll your eyes. Even then, when you ask again, he does not answer beyond the obvious. What a mentor he is, isn’t he?

He’s a man of mystery more than anything. He knows all about you yet you know barely anything of him.

You suppose that should not exactly be something of your priority. He is merely a mentor, raising you up from the bare grounds of skill to become his equal. Another side of you says mentor-student relationships should be filled with trust and such a feeling must be built upon knowing each other.

Though not knowing him certainly did not stop your feelings from rising. You scold yourself for it, or rather, your brain. You hardly know the man but your brain has the audacity to yearn for him.

Curious how you’re in such denial that you blame your brain, yet it’s part of you. You like him.

Most of what you know of him are looks; gloriously long dark hair, brown eyes the color of fine leather and a body sculpted by the gods. Not to mention that deep voice that if used just right sends shivers down your spine, and boy does he know how to use it. But those things are a given, it is what everybody knows about him.

This isn’t the time you should be thinking about this though.

His eyes bore into yours as if taunting you. ‘Come to me,’ they say, ‘make your move.’

Fighting, therefore sparring, wasn’t your strong suit. You were best at sneaking in, getting silent kills with either bow or blade. You were even good at strategizing, which made fighting your weak point. That was why you were sparring right now.

“An assassin of the brotherhood cannot have a weak point. They must be well-rounded, resilient, and able to adapt.” You knew it was a sound reasoning, but you dreaded the training either way.

You furrow your eyebrows, tighten your frown, a frustrated look is what you give him. He gives you a mere laugh in return and an arrogant smirk.

“You want pity? Fine. I would not lunge, but I am not your average enemy.” He is clearly taunting you. You huff out of your nose like an annoyed dog, which he finds adorable. “For you, I will.”

That was his warning, yet you do not heed it.

He lunges, and thankfully, though just barely, you manage to dodge. You make for his side, whilst simultaneously, hoping to knock him off balance.

But he is quick on his feet. Before you know it, you’re lunging for thin air.

You fall on your hands and knees, but you’re not on your back yet. Your mentor moves to knock you over with a kick, but you take that as an opportunity.

You jump at him with your full body again, this time it’s successful. You manage to tackle him to the ground, landing him on his back.

The hidden blade is pointed at his neck and you straddle him to keep him in place. It is quite a dangerous position, but you know to hold back. “Finally.” You breathe out in relief.

He seems impressed as he smiles at you. “Good job.” At his compliment, you retract the blade. “Though I do have a suggestion or two.”

He flips the both of you over so that he’s on top and you’re against the ground. “Don’t give your opponent the time to do this.” Your cheeks flush a light pink, one that he is fond of.

He licks his lips seductively, a clear sign that he’s playing with you in a different way.

You play along, hooking your hands together behind his back. “I won fair and square. You were on the ground first.”

Despite the fact you berated yourself for liking him because you barely knew him, you thought that maybe you should indulge in yourself. If this turned into something greater, you’d surely get to know him.

“That’s fair.” Basim whispers. He leans in close to your lips. “I guess I can give you this one. Although, you shouldn’t lunge forward with your whole--”

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

He obliges happily.

[camdentown-library]

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

(GIF by eivorella )

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

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

NOTE: siktir et = Fuck in turkish

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

* * *

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

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

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