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mercillery · 3 months ago

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Hello! Could you do anything yandere shanks x female reader, but can you make it in a headcanon. Where shanks first meet the reader, how he got obsessed (was it "love at first sight") how he woos the reader, how he expressed his emotions, etc. But can you make it where that shank crew is obsessed with the reader, too? (Not romantically) more like a little sister/older brothers obsession. And they make sure no one gets the readers heart but shanks. But the reader later finds out about this and confront them about it and reveal that this was her (secret kink) but always kept it to herself because she knows it's not healthy, etc. How would they react? And could you do it in nsfw and sfw headcanon

WARNINGS: FEMALE READER + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: Super duper sorry anon, but I don’t write nsfw. I still hope this is to your liking!

I imagine that Shanks first encounters you in a bustling port town, the kind where everything smells like saltwater and adventure—or maybe just fried fish, but we’ll go with adventure. You’re busy—maybe working a stall, laughing with friends, or simply taking in the sights with this serene, unbothered expression. You stand out to him, not like a thunderbolt of “love at first sight” exactly, but more like a nagging feeling that something just clicked. It’s like spotting a rare treasure—he doesn’t fully understand why he’s drawn to you, but he knows it’s significant. It’s like finding a piece of his favorite puzzle that he didn’t even know was missing.

At first, it’s just mild curiosity. You’ve caught his attention, and now he’s finding every excuse to watch you—casually, of course. He’s not a weirdo... not yet, anyway. It’s all innocent in the beginning, but as time goes on, that curiosity becomes a full-blown obsession. He finds himself studying the way you smile, the way you tilt your head when you’re thinking, and even the way you roll your eyes when someone says something ridiculous. It’s all too fascinating. You’re like his own personal TV show—except the plot thickens with every episode. And oh boy, he’s hooked.

And that’s when the possessiveness kicks in. Shanks starts convincing himself that everything you do—every gesture, every laugh—is somehow meant for him. It’s a classic pirate’s mindset: when you spot treasure, you claim it. But Shanks, ever the suave captain, decides that this treasure is worth the wait. He’s not about to rush in and scare you off, oh no. This isn’t some quick plunder; this is a long game. He’s willing to be patient, biding his time, and winning you over little by little. You might think he’s just being friendly or charismatic—after all, he’s got that charm down to an art—but every move he makes is a carefully calculated step closer to you. Creepy when you think about it, right? Unless you’re into it

Naturally, Shanks’ crew gets involved—how could they not? They’re a tight-knit bunch, practically a family, and if something or rather, someone is important to Shanks, they’re all on high alert. They catch on to the way their captain looks at you—it’s not the usual playful grin or the casual glance he gives most people. No, it’s a look that says, “I’ve found something I want to keep.” This man is intense and obsessed, and they can see it. So, being the loyal crewmates they are, they decide it’s their job—no, their duty—to help their captain out. Not that they think he needs the help (since he’s Shanks and all), but hey, why not give him an edge?

The crew quickly adopts the idea of you as their captain’s treasure—precious and worth protecting. And just like that, you’re part of the family, whether you know it or not. They take on the role of overly protective brothers (whether they’re older or younger doesn’t matter—they’ve all got that big sibling energy anyway). They make it their mission to watch over you, making sure you’re safe wherever you go. But they’re not just watching from the shadows—no, they’re playing the long game, just like their captain is.

They know Shanks has enough charm to fill the Grand Line, so their strategy is different: they’re trying to get you to seek him out more. They’ve got complete faith in their captain’s charm; it’s just you who needs a little nudge in the right direction. They drop hints like, “Oh, you know, Captain Shanks would love to see you at the tavern later,” or “Wow, I bet the captain would be thrilled if you asked him about that.” Subtle, right?

As time goes on, they don’t just see you as their captain’s potential love interest—they genuinely start to see you as part of their crew. And in their eyes, that makes you family. Now, when someone’s happiness is tied to their captain’s happiness, they’re all in. They become more invested in making sure you’re content, safe, and most importantly, staying right where they want you.

It’s all fun and games until you realize anyone getting too close to you except for Shanks is a problem. See, they want you to be a permanent part of their crew. Anyone who even thinks about getting too friendly with you instantly becomes enemy number one. Sure, they’ll try to avoid violence—at first. But if they see you getting swayed by someone else, they’re not afraid to roll up their sleeves and get a little more, let’s say, hands-on with the problem. Ruthless? Maybe. Necessary? In their eyes, absolutely.

This is where their “sibling” dynamic really comes into play. The way they see it, no one’s good enough for their soon-to-be sister-in-law that’s you, by the way except Shanks. They discourage any potential suitors by casually looming nearby, giving cold stares, or “accidentally” interrupting conversations just as things start to get cozy. They’re there to make sure you stay unattached and grow more comfortable with Shanks and the crew. They gradually start making it clear that the only acceptable outcome is you being with their captain, and anyone else is just wasting their time.

And if you happen to be inexperienced in romance? Perfect! They’re thrilled. They take it as an opportunity to coach you, guiding you with all the expertise that only a bunch of rowdy pirates can offer. They’ll give you tips some (good, some questionable) and make sure you know exactly how to charm their captain back.

Basically, any love life you had or might have wanted outside of Shanks is out the window. As long as this crew is around, you’re not finding any other suitors—no chance, no way. They’ll make sure the only person you ever have eyes for is Shanks. And if you were single before they met you, even better—they’ve got a blank slate to work with. Maybe Yasopp or Benn pat you on the back and say, “Well, lucky for you, our captain’s the best option you’ll ever have.”

Shanks has this effortless charm about him that’s practically impossible to resist. With his laid-back nature and easygoing smile, he knows exactly how to draw you in. From the very start, he’s friendly and approachable, making it feel like you’ve known him for years. He knows how to make you feel at ease—he cracks jokes, buys you drinks, and regales you with wild stories from his adventures at sea. It’s hard not to feel comfortable around him when he’s so open and genuine, always acting like you’re old friends—or maybe something more. And you? You start to think he’s just a normal guy—albeit a pirate, but a friendly one. The truth? His charm of his isn’t just natural—there’s a strategy behind it.

See, Shanks is playing a long game here. Beneath the friendly smile and the easy banter is a guy who’s putting in work. He’s paying attention to everything—your likes, your hobbies, and even the tiniest details. He notices what makes your eyes light up, the foods you prefer, the places you love to visit, and even the little things that make you cringe. Every time he interacts with you, it’s as if he’s reading straight from the playbook on “How to Win Your Heart.” You think it’s just a coincidence that he always knows the right thing to say or do to make you feel special, but nope—that’s just Shanks doing his homework.

And it’s not just Shanks who’s in on it; his crew is right there, playing their part like it’s a well-rehearsed performance. They hype him up constantly, making sure you know just how amazing their captain is. They’ll tell you stories—always the ones where Shanks is the hero, the brave and selfless leader, or the guy who goes out of his way to help others. Of course, they know better than to lay it on too thick, but the message is clear: Shanks isn’t just some ordinary pirate; he’s a guy worth betting your heart on. They’ll casually mention his loyalty, his bravery, and his kindness, painting a picture of the ideal man—like, really, who wouldn’t want a guy like him? They frame it all so perfectly that you start to wonder if Shanks is exactly the kind of person you’ve been waiting for. But little do you know, he’s been waiting for you!

It doesn’t stop at words, either; the crew’s got action plans. They’ll orchestrate these “coincidental” moments where Shanks can swoop in like some dashing hero. Maybe your bag “accidentally” slips off the dock, and there’s Shanks, quick as lightning, retrieving it with that grin of his. Or perhaps you’re having a rough day, and suddenly Shanks appears with your favorite snack in hand, ready to lift your spirits. It’s like clockwork—every opportunity they get, they’re making sure Shanks is there, saving the day or making things just a little bit easier for you. It’s a collective effort, all geared towards making you see Shanks as the only option, the one who’s been right there all along, just waiting for you to realize it.

When it comes to expressing his emotions, Shanks plays it smooth—real smooth. He’s affectionate, sure, but there’s always that tiny hint of possessiveness lingering underneath, like a shadow just out of sight. He’s subtle, though; he knows how to keep it from being obvious. He showers you with attention, and not in an overwhelming way, but just enough so you always know he’s thinking about you. It could be a small gift from his travels—a trinket from a far-off island or a flower he swears is the rarest he’s ever seen. Or maybe it’s the little notes he leaves behind, simple but sweet, like a casual reminder that he’s never too far from your thoughts. He’s always there when you need someone, even if you don’t realize you need him. Shanks makes it pretty much impossible for you to forget about him.

And when others approach you, Shanks? Oh, he keeps his cool—like, really cool. He’s got that carefree smile and that laid-back attitude down to a science. Sure, he wants you all to himself, but part of his plan is patience. He’s not about to lose his composure over some random individual trying to chat you up—no, no, he’s got the long game in mind. However, if someone starts getting a little too close for comfort, that’s when you’ll see him act. And trust me, when he does, it’s like a magician pulling off a trick. Maybe that person suddenly finds himself on the wrong side of a brawl with some random pirates, or they just “decide” to leave the island without a trace. Weird, right? Almost like they vanished into thin air. Shanks knows how to make things happen while keeping his hands clean—or at least appearing to.

Eventually, you start putting the pieces together. You can’t ignore the patterns—people who show interest in you either mysteriously vanish or suddenly avoid you like you’ve got some kind of pirate plague. And then there’s Shanks, who always seems to know everything happening in your life, almost like he’s got some sixth sense. Oh, and his crew? They just so happen to be wherever you are, ready to step in like overprotective siblings. It’s all a bit too convenient, so you decide to confront them about it.

Shanks doesn’t even try to deny it. In fact, he leans right into it, giving you the whole “I’m doing this for your safety; the world’s a dangerous place” spiel. You know, playing the classic protector card. And, of course, his crew’s right behind him, backing him up like they’re all in on this script. They swear they’re only looking out for you, doing what any good “family” would do. They make it seem like it’s their sacred duty to keep you safe from any harm—or in this case, any potential love interests who aren’t Shanks.

But when you drop the bomb and reveal that this was exactly what you secretly wanted—a possessive, obsessive kind of love—the reaction is priceless. Shanks’ face goes from a small hint of concern to this look of pure satisfaction. It’s like you’ve just handed him the keys to the treasure chest he’s been searching for lifetimes. He’s definitely caught off guard for a second, but it’s the kind of surprise he’s thrilled about.

The crew’s reaction is just as entertaining. They look relieved and almost proud, like they’ve just gotten the ultimate validation. To them, it’s a sign that everything they’ve done—all the lurking and scheming—was the right move. You wanted this all along, so in their eyes, they’re basically heroes. Now that you’ve spilled the beans, they become way more open about their protectiveness, doubling down on their roles as your “brothers.” It’s like your confession flipped a switch for them, giving them free rein to crank up the possessiveness without feeling an ounce of guilt. If they ever felt guilty to begin with, that is.

From that moment on, they’re even bolder with their interference. They don’t bother hiding their efforts to scare off anyone who dares to get too close. In fact, they make sure you know that your place is with them—more importantly, with Shanks. He’s over the moon, acting like he’s won the ultimate prize. Knowing that you’re receptive to his obsession only fuels his determination to keep you all to himself. Now that you’ve given him the green light, there’s no turning back; his possessiveness has leveled up, and his crew is all-in, making sure the world knows you’re their captain’s treasure.

With everything out in the open, the dynamic between you, Shanks, and his crew hits a new level of intensity. It’s like a silent contract has been signed: you’re theirs. Shanks cranks up the affection, pulling you even deeper into his orbit. He’s always around—whether it’s with charming smiles, playful touches, or just happening to be there when you need a shoulder to lean on. And his crew? Oh, they double down on their big brother act, making sure you’re never alone for a single second.

The crew practically builds an invisible barrier around you, creating a fortress of brotherly protection that no one can breach. Some poor soul tries to talk to you? Expect one of the guys to appear out of nowhere, putting an arm around your shoulder and shooting a “friendly” grin that’s a little too sharp. You’re basically the most popular sibling in the overprotective pirate family now, and anyone who even thinks about getting close might as well just wave the white flag and walk away.

They’ve turned “you belong with us” into their full-time job. If you ever wander off, it’s only a matter of minutes before one of them pops up with an “Oh, there you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” They act like it’s all in good fun, but there’s no mistaking that underlying message: they’re keeping tabs, and they’re not letting you slip away.

And you can’t help but feel the effect. They make you the center of their universe, their obsession, and honestly? It’s kind of intoxicating. Sure, there’s a part of you that knows it’s all a bit much—maybe even borderline unhealthy—but when you’re surrounded by that kind of attention, it’s hard not to get swept up in it. And that’s exactly how they want it. You’re part of their “family” now, and they’ll do whatever it takes to keep you right where you are.

Shanks, of course, is the ringleader of it all. He’s basking in the fact that you’ve accepted his possessiveness—no, welcomed it. He knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re fully his, heart, body, and soul. And the crew? They’re just as invested in this little storybook ending—because, in their eyes, you’re not just their captain’s treasure; you’re their treasure too.

#shanks x y/n #yandere shanks x reader #shanks x you #yandere shanks #shanks x reader #one piece shanks #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #red haired pirates

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introverted-imagineer · 5 months ago

Text

The Emperors Solution (Part 21)

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am free.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This caused the Emperor to rise from his seat.

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

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

‘Twyla’ Harald repeated solemnly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Why did you leave?’

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

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

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

*phwoooooh*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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