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[introverted-imagineer]

Stages Of Silence

Danny Walter x reader

Premise: Reader has recently moved to Silver Falls after issues at their previous school. Reader suffers from a speech impediment, but that won't stop Danny Walter from trying to make a new friend ❤

Warnings: Swearing.

‘Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, if I understand the notes and transcript from Y/N’s previous school, and from what you’ve told me…Y/N hasn’t spoken in almost two years?’ I hated that…when people spoke as if I wasn’t in the room. My parents anxiously sat in Miss Jacob's office, my Dad anxiously clutching onto my Moms's hand. ‘Y/N has always suffered from a severe stutter, when we moved for my job it got worse which led to bullying, the doctor called it Selective mutism.’ My Dad looked at me, I gave him an approving nod. A small gesture of approval, but I know it reassured my parents, to know that I appreciated their help. 

‘So Y/N, academically your reports and transcripts are competent, your attendance…a little shaky’ she said, her hand rising from her desk giving that so-so gesture. I pressed my lips together tightly, an attempt at a slight smile, although an invisible smile at that. ‘I know this can be a topic of sensitivity, but for purposes so that we may better support you here at Silver Falls y/n we will need to know why your previous school dismissed you’ Her face searched all our faces, clearly feeling awkward about approaching the topic. Mom and Dad’s clutching hands and tense posture offering the poor guidance counsellor no comfort.  ‘Well…we know y/n’s attendance was shaky, but ultimately the school said they weren’t equipped to handle y/n’s…condition they called it’ Mom responded, leaning forward from the back of the chair and shifting herself unnecessarily. ‘Did you feel unsupported at your previous school?’ Miss Jacobs asked curiously. I shrugged my shoulders, raising them slowly as my lips tilted into a diagonal line. She pursed her lips as her eyes darted between my folder on her desk and back to me. ‘What about you Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, did you feel the school was unaccommodating or disengaging?’ She rested her fingertips on her keyboard, ready for any information they might present. ‘Actually, Miss Jacobs, y/n’s dismissal was a shock to us all, y/n had adequate grades as you can see…never got in any fights, and followed the rules for the most part, she’s an exceptional pianist, but we did notice a lack of responsiveness when we tried to address bullying allegations’ My Dads voice quickly retreating into himself as he spoke as I sunk slightly into my seat. Mom and Dad had always been the type of people who hated making a fuss about things, confrontation made us all feel awkward I suppose…

‘Well, y/n we’d be happy to accept you here at Silver Falls High’ Miss Jacobs said, standing from her desk with her hand outstretched. I slipped my hand into hers loosely, a tight-lip smile more directed at the floor than it was at her. I could hear my mom's loud sigh of relief, a breath of air she had held in the whole morning. Their hands stayed tightly clutched as Miss Jacobs walked us down the hallway towards the front entrance, a habit they had adopted since my stutter turned to silence. My chest felt heavy as they walked close, their shoulders pressed together and Miss Jacobs made polite conversation, her questions conveying the essence of community that washed over the small town of Silver Falls to us newbies. ‘Where have you moved to? Oh lovely, the Andersons always enjoyed living there, I’m sure you’ll find it just as homely as they did. If you want to meet some locals Lark After Dark, an event at our local cafe usually draws in most of our town. How old is your youngest? She must be attending Silver Falls Elementary I presume?’ Miss Jacobs had already established that she was a friendly person, but the entire town was more entwined than we had anticipated… I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread, a hefty weight on my chest, wouldn’t be long until everyone knew about the new family on the block with their poor mute child. 

‘Alright, Mr and Mrs y/l/n, thank you for coming in and speaking with me, and I’m confident that Silver Falls High will be the last transfer for y/n’ her gaze directed to me as she gave a confident smile. I looked back at her, making an effort to relax my shoulders as I nodded and smiled back. My parents relieved as they walked out of the school together. ‘Alright y/n, shall we?’ She smiled, her hand gesturing back down the hallway as I tentatively followed, taking one last look out the window as Mom and Dad drove away from Silver Falls High. 

‘Okay y/n, this is where I leave you I’m sorry, I have a meeting with another student, but this is your English class with Mr Choudry, here is your timetable’ she explained, pulling papers from her notebook piling them into my hands. She quickly glanced at her watch, her eyebrows raising in surprise as her relaxed demeanour turned to one of worry. ‘I’m sorry y/n it seems I’m already late, but feel free to come by my office after your class and I can spend a bit more time with you to go over things’ she knocked on the door, opening the door and popping her head in, giving a nod to the teacher as she pointed to a chair at the back of the room. I flicked my head back, my face tense, a tight feeling in my throat releasing a little squeak, seeking any solace only to find she was already 10 paces away from the classroom, back to the direction of her office. Shit. 

‘We’re just about to start’ the teacher smiled grabbing a stack of books from his desk as he passed the stack to the students at the front of the room, passing a copy back. I slumped slightly into my seat, trying to disappear as each pair of eyes looked at me as everyone passed their books back. It’s funny, how we don’t even need to say anything, and yet everyone in the room was already making their mind up about me as I did them. Nosy, curious…almost dumbfounded? From what Miss Jacobs said about Silver Falls, I had likely walked into a room where everyone had known everyone since elementary school; who was this stranger…infiltrator, fresh meat. I could feel my back digging into the back of the chair, picking at the cuticles of my already damaged nail bed. The last book smacked on the desk in front of me as the girl’s eyes flicked up and down my body, before abruptly turning back to the front of the class. William Shakespeare, I read as I glanced down at the old tattered book. 

‘Sorry I’m late Mr Choudry’ The door burst open, and everyone slightly jumped in their seats. A few faces smiled at the arrival of the stranger. ‘No worries Danny, we’re just about to begin’ I couldn’t tell if they were relaxed about attendance here…or if this Danny carried a certain charm that made people who possessed such a gift forgivable in any instance. He looked around the room, his eyes falling on me as I quickly whipped my head back to the book on my desk. Please don’t sit here, please don’t sit here I silently pleaded to myself. Unfortunately, the pleading in my head was interrupted by the scraping of the chair at the table next to fine. Fuck. ‘Oh Danny, I’m so sorry I wasn’t expecting to have this many people in my class this semester, you’ll have to share with our new student for today if that’s cool’ I could see him smiling and nodding at the teacher out my peripheral vision. I could feel the stinging at my fingers as I intensified the picking at my nails. I could feel his gaze glance down to my hands in my lap. He sat up in his chair, slightly pulling back as he pivoted in his chair toward me, holding a hand out. ‘Hey, I’m Danny’ he spoke confidently, a smile spreading wide across his face. I craned my neck slightly, looking at his hand as I gingerly raised my own slipping my slightly sweaty palm into his, returning his shake as he moved his hand with an assertive grip, clearly not worried about the sweat. I slipped my hand out of his, glancing at his face properly for the first time, facing my head back towards the front. ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?’ He politely inquired, slightly dropping his head as he curiously tried to catch my gaze. 

‘Okay everyone attention to the front please’ Ah, a saving grace, as Mr Choudry interrupted Danny’s question. He slipped back into his seat properly, a slight smile on his face as he saw the book in front of us. Never had I ever seen anyone under the age of 50 excited at the prospect of reading Shakespeare. ‘Now as everyone will have noticed, we clearly have a new student with us today, hence the lack of books, sorry Danny’ The class chuckled, I however did not. He didn’t need to even finish his sentence before I could feel my eyes almost popping out of my head. My heartbeat, which had been surprisingly steady all morning, began to pump more ferociously. ‘Would you stand up and introduce yourself please’ He politely requested, gesturing his hand to the back of the room, giving everyone the excuse they needed to properly turn and stare. My breathing began to intensify, I could feel every crevice of my body begin to perspire. I could feel my hands begin to shake. ‘No need to be nervous’ Mr Choudry smiled, still expectantly waiting. I could sense Danny’s energy shift to one of concern as his eyebrows scrunched together, noticing the way the hairs on my arm stood to attention. ‘Cat got your tongue newbie?’ A girl at the front remarked, giggling to herself and her friend. ‘Erin’ Mr Choudry remarked in a strict sharp tone. Not again. I almost pleaded to myself as Erin and her friend silently tried to silence their chuckles. The chair let out an uncomfortable screeching noise as it grated across the floor. I stood up, throwing my backpack over my shoulder as I quickly tracked to the door, not even faltering as Mr Choudry exclaimed for me to wait. I wasn’t a fighter…I needed to fly. As the door creaked shut behind me, a voice carried, escaping the English room as I walked down the empty hallway. It was Danny, his words simple but fiercely sarcastic. ‘Nice one Erin’. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

‘So y/n how was your first day?’ Mom asked curiously as we sat amongst the boxes in the new house, picking at her homemade meatloaf. A food of comfort when Mom suspected the day needed a little more love. I nodded, smiling at her, her cheeks going slightly pink as her smile emitted across her face. I could see Dad out of the corner of my eye, raising his chin slightly, blowing out his mouth with equal comfort. I suppose it wasn’t entirely a lie…first day in Silver Falls maybe, but not school. Silver Falls proved to be an idyllic country town, with everyone waving and passing comments as they saw each other on the streets, greenery as far as the eye could see, animals in every pasture, an elegant stream that glistened all day as the sun shone down. 

‘I liked it, but I sorta miss my old school’ my sister innocently chimed in from the end of the table. I twirled the fork in my hand around the mashed potatoes on my plate, my stomach churning at her comment. I never wanted to move, I never wanted to take her away from her stability and routine. ‘Well did you make any friends?’ Dad asked her, trying to pick up the mood. But I could see him tense again as he watched my fork swirl aimlessly around the plate. ‘I met a girl named Parker, she was really nice’ she said, a small smile on her face as she pierced her fork through the green beans on her plate. I brought a small bite to my mouth. At least something good happened for her. ‘Honey, the movers called, it’s probably not going to be till Friday when they’ll get here, so your piano won’t be here for a few more days’ Dad said, the corner of his lip curling down slightly. Great, another letdown. I simply nodded, forcing a tight-lipped smile. ‘Maybe the school has one? Maybe there might be a club or something?’ Mom enthusiastically tried to offer. I knew it was more than just the piano though…make some friends, meet some people. But based on this morning…I already decided I didn’t want anything to do with them. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The halls at Silver Falls High were bustling, chatter echoing throughout the hallways, lockers slamming, people tossing footballs to one another, guys in football jackets walking as a herd as girls trailed alongside them. I looked at the timetable Miss Jacobs had given me yesterday. Homeroom, 13B. I trailed down the hall, ignoring the whispers and chatter as people quietly retorted to each other ‘Who’s that?’ ‘Erin said they choked up and walked out of English’ ‘I think they are the newbies that moved onto Charm Street?’ People here really knew too much of one another’s business. Against the lockers, a large group of guys stood conversing with each other, I looked to find the eyes of girls and boys looking at them in slight admiration, carefully trying to keep their composure as they waited for the boys to finish their conversation. Something about meeting at the car after school. ‘Hey’ one of the voices called as I tried to merge my way past the group. I looked up as his tall frame stood there, a friendly smile on his face. The same beanie as yesterday, an almost identical plaid shirt. Danny from English. I gave a simple head nod, raising my eyebrows slightly in his direction. ‘Who’s the new chick?’ The blonde one emitted, his eyes looking me up and down as I managed to squeeze between the group and the people eagerly waiting to talk to them. ‘Don’t know their name yet’ Danny spoke, very much in a happy-go-lucky voice. Interesting that he didn’t seem to care about the events of yesterday…

The bell rang; a small groan of disappointment, particularly from the girls who stood around Danny and his group. The crowd quickly dispersed as groups flocked to their classrooms. I aimlessly walked down the hall until I stood across the hall from the door that read 13B. I glanced inside the window through the door, only to find a pair of eyes glaring back at me. Seriously, what was this girl’s problem? She sat on the desk, running her fingers seductively through the blonde boy’s hair, even though he seemed more interested in talking to Erin’s friend. A deep yawn emitted from the room, the blonde boy chuckling to himself as he gingerly pushed Erin’s hand away. ‘Dude, I love having my own room most of the night, but ya gotta stop staying up to watch movies all night’. ‘Lay off Cole’ Danny’s voice sarcastically remarked back. I looked up and down the corridor, luckily empty of teachers or other students. I slowly walked away from the classroom, and back down the hall. 

 Construction Zone  

Do Not Enter

A sign read on the door. I slowly pushed the door open, poking my head in to see a large vacant auditorium, a weak smell of dried paint and multiple discarded tools. I slipped inside the room, walking down the steps toward the stage. On the right-hand side, a slightly dusty, but gorgeous baby grand piano. The perfect refuge to pass the day. I could feel my cheeks pinch, a genuine smile. A feeling of relief washed over me for the first time since we moved to this town. I placed my backpack on the ground, approaching the stage. 

I could feel the goosebumps on my arms as I gently ran my fingers over the keys. While slightly dusty and with a few scratches here and there, it was otherwise relatively in perfect condition. C D E F G A B. The sound radiated, like an electric shock to my fingers, a spark radiating through my body. Familiarity, sanctuary, comfort. The room had clearly undergone some extensive renovations. The stage floor was polished to perfection, and the seats were not even indented yet, some electrical chords still yet to be tied up. The sound of the piano bench barely made a noise as I slipped myself onto the seat. I closed my eyes, breathing in through my nose, placing my hands on the keys. I began to play. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The hours seemed to pass so quickly as I occasionally looked up to the clock on the wall, the sound of the piano seemingly not carrying outside the room. It was almost 2 o’clock, and no one had come into the auditorium all day. It was as if the notes were dancing around in my head, pops of silver, midnight blue, and purples dancing around as I lost myself in the music. Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Bach, Debussy…I didn’t stutter when it came to playing. Music spoke to the soul, an international language that didn’t require one to verbalise. It was my language. When my verbalisation began to deplete, music was something that comforted my family. It was a way of communication. If the music was lively, my sister would jump around the room, pulling my parents into the room to twirl her about. If times were stressful, a calming sonata to soothe the soul. When Mom or Dad had a particularly tough day at work, a familiar tune for them to sing along to lift their spirits. There was always an occasion for music. The last few days had been unusually quiet at home with my piano still to come. It felt like missing a part of my body. My piano was just an extension of me, and without it, I had been feeling incomplete. But even in this unfamiliar town, in this alien school with these strangers, the piano was a familiar friend. 

I glanced at the clock once more. Only 15 minutes remaining until the final bell and I could go home. ‘Play for you, not for anyone else’ Mrs Luella, my childhood piano teacher had said. One last piece to finish the day, to end on a high, to leave my fingertips satisfied until the next time that my soul could reconnect with the music. Clair de lune. A piece written about and for the soul itself. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach at the thought of the notes dancing around the room, the soul outside one’s own body, Debussy’s piece one in a million. 

A slow, gentle, delicate touch, a build of intensity, slow and steady, paced so beautifully. I could feel as each note emerged from the piano, a steady vibration as the piano shook against the stage floor. Slow tranquillity transpired, swirled in motions like a dry leaf dancing in the wind. As the intensity of the song, like a slowly building hurricane, the notes just become louder and more defined as the story builds. The bursts of colour in my head, dancing around in my brain, just sparking the right senses in my brain, almost like a feeling of ecstasy. And so slowly, yet so quickly, my fingers slowed, my touch more gentle, intensity turning to calmness…the songs end a perfect moment to let the last key ring. Utterly beguiling. 

My body jumped, my fingers still on the keys emitting an unflattering jumble of keys that were quite simply incompatible with one another. From the beautiful final ring of notes, a singular person’s claps cascaded across the room like a pouncing cat. My head shot to the seats to find none other than that familiar plaid-dressed boy sitting up in the back row, perfectly nuzzled into the seat as if he had been resting there for hours. I began to cough as saliva caught in my throat, the goosebumps on my arm no longer one of excitement but of pure shock. Danny stood quickly, profusely apologising as he swung his bag over his shoulder, racing down the stairs as he stepped onto the low stage, his hands out in surrender. I placed a hand out, a signal to stop as I grabbed my water bottle, chugging the unpleasant feeling away. 

‘Gosh, I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to scare you’ Danny pleaded. I simply nodded, my mouth full of water as I took a deep gulp. ‘You’re really good’ he said, almost breathless as he nervously shifted the beanie on his head. ‘Clair de lune?’ He posed as a question, even though his tone indicated that he already knew the answer. I stared at him, almost slightly shocked as he slowly waltzed over confidently to the piano, leaning on the other side as he smiled at me. I could feel my body tense, what did he want? ‘Yeah I’m a bit of a film buff myself, and Clair de Lune is probably one of the most amazing scores to just add that…’ he clicked his fingers, slightly looking up as if there were a lightbulb above his head. ‘That raw emotion it adds to a scene, really powerful on the audience ya know?’. I breathed in slowly, nodding slightly. I couldn’t say I knew what the impact meant in a movie sense…but I suppose if it made others feel the way I felt playing it, maybe there was some credit to his statement. 

*Bbbrrriiinnnggg* 

The final school bell chimed. I quickly rose from the piano stool, walking off the stage to grab my backpack, Danny’s footsteps trailing close behind. ‘Hey, the auditions from the school production are coming up soon, and as part of the drama club too we need talented musicians like you to help bring the magic alive so to speak’ he eagerly suggested. I turned my head slightly, shaking my head. I hated crowds, the only people I played for were my family, and sometimes that was overwhelming enough. I placed my hand on the door, only for Danny to interrupt with yet another statement. ‘Hey, look, is there a reason you won’t talk to me? Have I done something to offend you?’ I could hear him breathe aloud slightly, a slight frustration. I could feel his brain rattling away as he waited for a response. I turned around, facing him as he stood a few steps below me, a look of concern on his face as his eyes sought mine. ‘I don’t even know your name, you didn’t even come to class today’ he noted, a voice of confusion. But all I felt was defeat. A moment of tranquillity and peace ended with yet another frustrating reality of my silence. New school, new people, same situation. I dropped my eyes to the floor, turning quickly, and camouflaging into the crowded hallway, leaving Silver Falls High School, and a puzzled Danny. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

I sat at the table, eating cereal with my sister, the boxes around us slowly beginning to disappear as the items of our home began to slowly find their places in the new home. ‘Oh, y/n I almost forgot’ Mom said, halfway out the door in her scrubs ready for work. ‘Miss Jacobs called, she wants to see you first thing when you get to school okay’ she rushed, a smile on her face as she blew us kisses. ‘Love you guys, y/n please make sure your sister has her bag, I had to leave the hospital yesterday in the middle of my shift just to bring it to her’ she exhaustedly exclaimed as she walked out the door. My sister looked up, smiling at me with pieces of cinnamon toast crunch in her teeth. I smiled back, but inside my stomach felt like it was going to explode. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

I stood down the street from school, waiting to hear the sound of the bell ring before I went in. I didn’t want to accidentally bump into Danny again. I watched as a blue car sped down the road, pulling into the school, The Hives blasting from the stereo. The car parked, like a clown car, teenage boy after teenage boy climbed out. That familiar plaid shirt and beanie climbed out from the front passenger seat. People waving, a few flocking to the car…the boys walking into the school like a tiny parade. 

*Bbbrrriiinnnggg*

The bell chimed, and I slowly walked toward the school, only crossing the threshold when every student was inside. I quietly entered the school, pacing towards Miss Jacobs’ office, eager to get this meeting over with so I could return to the almost private sanctuary of the auditorium. I gently knocked on the door, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear it at all. ‘Y/N come in’. Shit. I cautiously walked into the room, scooting the chair back slightly away from her desk. Miss Jacobs finished her email, twirling in her chair slightly. Her body language said it all. All attention is on you y/n. 

‘Y/N fist of all, I want to formally apologise’ I raised my eyebrow, shocked by her opening statement. ‘I was so busy on Monday, and I forgot to issue an email to your teachers explaining your…well ya know’ Condition, mutism, selective mutism, silence. I’d heard it all before. ‘I am aware of the incident that happened in Mr Choudry’s English class, and it was preventable and I’m sorry that happened.’ It was almost shocking, a teacher apologising. Never had I received anything like this at my previous schools. ‘But please be rest assured, we discussed the practicalities and our requirements to support you at our staff meeting last night.’ Both my eyebrows raised this time…these people were willing to work with me? I could feel my toes curl into themselves, a wave of overwhelming shock washing over me as I gripped the armrest of the chair. ‘I also know that you haven’t been attending your classes the past day and a half, and we can’t let that continue, so if you’re willing to work with me, then I’m willing to work with you.’ She reached into her drawer, pulled out a sheet of paper and surfaced it on the desk in front of me. ‘First of all, it is a requirement that every Silver Falls High student is involved in at least one extra-curricular activity.’ I slowly began to pick at my fingers, looking at the list Miss Jacobs had presented me. Instinctively I shook my head, my eyes pleading as I looked at Miss Jacobs. She took in a breath, looking at another file she pulled from her drawer. ‘Your references from a Mrs Giovanna Luella, she has noted here that you are a very gifted piano player…we do have a piano in our school auditorium?’ Believe me, I know all too well I thought to myself, but the anxiety wasn’t going away. ‘Look, we have our school production coming up, and we need more students who can play percussion instruments. Technically that will make you part of the drama club as that is where you’ll need to be for meetings and practices.’ Fuucckk no no no I internally begged. ‘I already passed it with our drama teacher and he is in full agreement that you only need to participate as the pianist’. It was very clear the decision had been made for me. ‘We also need you to go to your classes y/n.’ A sympathetic smile came to her. ‘Our meeting on Monday with your parents, I could tell that they love you very much, and within that love, I also can see they are worried about you…so if you are willing to join the drama club, then I am willing to let it slide, and we can keep it between us.’ I stopped the picking, meeting her gaze. A compromise. I knew Mom and Dad were worried, but I had also seen how relieved they were even if it was a lie when I expressed that the first day had gone okay. That they were able to sit down at the end of the night, not having to discuss between them as yet school had called them again to talk about my attendance. If not for me, then for them. I looked at her once more, nodding my head in agreement. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

The day had passed slowly. Keep your head down, take notes, and nod occasionally and teachers will be satisfied. At lunch, I sat at the back of the empty auditorium eating my sandwich, headphones in until the bell rang. Finally the last class of the day, and it couldn’t come soon enough. I looked at my timetable, my heart slightly dropping into my stomach. 13B - English. I walked into the classroom, taking that same seat in the back corner, looking out the window as everyone else filed in. My daydreaming was interrupted by Mr Choudry slipping between the tables, and bending down in front of my table. ‘Y/N, I’m so sorry about the incident on Monday, I hadn’t been informed about your speech impediment’. I gave him a nod, I could genuinely see the sincerity. ‘Oh Danny, come sit’ Mr Choudry said, my eyes following his as Danny stood behind his chair, his lips awkwardly shifting as his gaze flickered between myself and Mr Choudry. ‘I can sit somewhere else, this sounds like a…private matter’ he said, looking around the classroom only to find every seat taken. I reached over, slowly pulling the chair next to me out from under the table, patting the seat, and inviting Danny to sit down. He smiled, sitting down as he flung his backpack underneath the desk. ‘Fresh start?’ Mr Choudry said, reaching his hand out. I slipped my hand into his, shaking his hand, and giving a curt nod. ‘Also welcome to the drama society’ he said. I looked curiously at him as he began to walk back to the front of the room. ‘Meetings are Thursdays after school, so we’ll see you tomorrow.’ Of course, he was the drama teacher too…

As Mr Choudry read passages of Shakespeare to the class, pulling apart the meaning of each sentence of ye old English literature, I couldn’t help but notice the way Danny focused so intensely on each word. He didn’t bother to scribble any notes down, he just seemed totally lost in the dialogue. His fingers shifted, reaching into his binder without even looking, his attention still focused on Mr Choudry. He plucked a single sheet of paper from the back of his binder, pulling it out slowly and silently, and slipping it on top of my notebook. I looked down to see a sheet of music. The notes already ringing in my ears as I read the paper. It didn’t seem very Shakespearean, nor classical…My eyes darted to the top of the page, reading the bold heading at the top of the page. 

‘Don’t Be Shy’ 

Cat Stevens

Sheet Music

Mr Choudry’s voice completely disappeared, the sounds of scribbling pens on paper gone, the presence of everyone else obsolete. I dropped my pen, grazing my fingers across the page. My heart fluttered. I tilted my head slightly, looking at Danny with my mouth slightly agape. I could feel my heart slightly pumping as Danny looked back at me, his lips curled into a smile. My lips doing the same. I looked back to my notebook, tearing a piece off the bottom of the page as the bell rang and the sounds of students chattering and chairs scraping began to sound again. I quickly scribbled on the paper as Danny reached for his bag. I slid the note in front of him, walking out of the classroom before he could respond. It read

My name is Y/N

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

When I arrived home, a glorious shine glared through the window. An even bigger smile washed over my face. My piano. I rushed inside, tossing my bag to the floor, walking into the living room, ignoring my Dad’s greeting or my sister’s attempt to play with me. I reached into my pocket, unfolding the new sheet of music and placing it on the music stand. The notes immediately cheerful, the music bouncing and echoing in the still largely unfurnished home, boxes still scattered everywhere. 

‘I like this one’ my sister exclaimed, skipping into the living room with her stuffed monkey, twirling around. ‘Come Daddy’ she squealed, running into the kitchen, grabbing his hand as she pulled him in to dance. The chorus hit and Dad picked her up, spinning her around as she squealed in delight. I barely noticed the front door open as Mom came into the room, her nursing scrubs still on as she delightfully asked ‘What’s going on?’ My Dad grabbed her hand, pulling her into a twirl as he lovingly took her workbag from her shoulder, placing it on the ground as my sister skipped around the piano. By the end of the song, Mom and Dad were slow dancing in a tight embrace, my sister delightfully flinging her monkey about the room. 

‘I’ve missed this’ Mom exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my shoulder, hugging me. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

As students pattered out of school, the busy corridors turned quiet as the day ended. I slowly walked to the auditorium door to find the Do Not Enter sign removed, and instead, a brass plaque that read ‘Silver Falls Auditorium’. I had spent lunch in Miss Jacobs office printing piles of sheet music Mr Choudry had requested. My private sanctuary is now open to all. I couldn’t help but feel my stomach drop slightly. I pushed the door open quietly hoping the room would be vacant. 

I stepped into the room, disappointed to find a row of students filling the front row. I quietly shut the door behind me, finding a seat in the back-row corner, waiting for the meeting to begin. I looked at the back of everyone’s heads, my heart pounding, my stomach in my throat as all the drama club members chatted in delight amongst one another. As my eyes scanned across the row, a sigh of relief escaped my lips. That familiar beanie, that bright smile, Danny sat smiling as he talked to his friends. His eyes wandered amongst the room, leaning forward slightly as he looked over the crowd. His eyebrows scrunched, only relaxing when he turned and saw me. He raised his hand, a friendly wave. I curled my lips up naturally, giving a small wave back. ‘Sorry I’m late everyone’ Mr Choudry announced as he entered the room, walking across the stage, a large stack of paper in his hands. He glanced around the room, taking a mental note of attendance as he smiled at everyone in the front row. It was only when he saw Danny’s head turn slightly that he followed Danny’s gaze, finding me at the back. ‘Alright guys settle in, we have a new member with us today, this is Y/N.’ He said, pointing to the back of the room, everyone shifting in their seats as they cast their eyes upon me. ‘Y/N will be our pianist, not an actor, y/n speaks through the music so just embrace the talent and let’s give y/n a welcoming round of applause’. A gentle clap carried across the room, thankfully everyone was too eager to begin the meeting to care so much. ‘Y/N if you could come down and take your place at the piano thank you very much’ he requested, as he walked toward each member of the group handing them a small booklet. 

‘This semester, we will be working on none other than William Shakespeare’s play ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ which you will all be aware is this year’s school production.’ I slowly took my place behind the piano, grateful that the angle somewhat gave me some privacy from the rest of the room. 

Mr Choudry experimented with the music as much as he did with his directing. The notes intertwined with the scenes, as Danny and the rest of the students took turns reading characters, emitting emotions from the pages in front of them, turning words into something living and breathing. Shakespeare, famous for the iambic pentameter, verses so soft and strong, rhythmic yet no rhyme, a heartbeat to each word. Mr Choudry would round to the piano, requesting notes and pieces that exerted feelings of power, sadness, love, and deception. It was a challenge…but a welcome one to a part of myself I had become too familiar with. Music to dialogue offering a new thought-provoking provocation. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as terrible as I expected… 

…After Drama Club…

The sky turned orange through the large glass windows. The drama students quickly, petered out as Mr Choudry dismissed the meeting, their scripts tightly within their clutches. I quietly packed the music in my backpack and walked across the stage. Danny stood his, back turned as he packed his backpack. I stopped in my tracks, my heartbeat slightly skipping. Should I just go? Should I tap his shoulder? Should I wait for him to leave first? Before I could decide, Danny turned around, his smile infectious as the corners of my own lips curled up slightly. ‘Hey, how did you find it?’ I shrugged, smiling as I tugged on my fingers nervously. Danny chuckled ‘Well you sounded great, seriously the music adds feeling to the scenes…makes it easier to get into it ya know?’ I held my hands out, gesturing to Danny, returning his question. ‘Yeah, I mean I’m really happy with the play for the production this year, and Mr Choudry I think is going to be a great mentor for the play being an English teacher too’. He opened the door as I followed him up the steps and out of the auditorium. ‘Anyway, I am glad you joined, you have added a touch of magic to it’ he said. I could feel my cheeks turn red, I stopped in my tracks, taken aback. Danny stopped, pointing to the door ‘You coming?’ He asked. I could feel my heart beating a little faster, a sudden feeling of urgency. I nervously shook my head, looking around, and pointing at the bathroom. He smiled, nodding. ‘Well, I’ll see you tomorrow y/n’. Y/N. It felt nice hearing Danny say that.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

As the semester went on, every week before the drama club meeting, the nerves and adrenaline in my stomach grew each week. I almost wanted to quit, to stop showing up altogether, but those few minutes after practice, when it was just Danny and I…it was like a drug. A hit, a sweet tenderness, a wash of excitement when Danny waited for me to pack my things, and walk out of the auditorium with me. It was an intoxicating, yet scary feeling. What was I expecting? I couldn’t tell, but the fear was beginning to outweigh the warmth. Don’t kid yourself y/n, you can’t even speak to him, he would never. The doubt was exhausting, but still, something in me made me keep going to the drama meets. 

Another afternoon the drama club meeting commenced, the auditions for the school production were upcoming, and more people joined. I sat in the corner on the piano stool, headphones in as students desperately asked Mr Choudry for notes, direction and advice. The more people, the busier the meetings became, the less need for music. I would glance up occasionally, looking as Danny sat, pure wonder on his face as he watched the scenes unravel before him, miming the script as his friends rehearsed on stage. It was an interesting sight to watch, to see someone so enamoured and swept up in the art of performance and acting. Truly studying the performance, took notes down on his script when Mr Choudry gave his critique on other students. I’d watch as Danny rehearsed Benedick’s lines, the music slowly dancing in my head, what would make this scene more dramatic? What would make these characters seem more scary? What would make Benedick seem more romantic?

I scrolled through my playlist, adding songs, piano pieces, and movie scores, slowly building the much ‘ado-about-nothing’ playlist, I hadn’t heard Mr Choudry dismiss the meeting. It was only when a shadow slightly blocked the light shining down on the piano that I finally looked up. Danny stood there, leaning on the piano, his familiar smile. I took my headphones out, smiling back as I began to collect my belongings. A wave of nerves washed over me, tingling rushing from my heart to my fingertips. ’I miss hearing you play’ he said as I rose from the piano stool. I could feel my cheeks begin to burn slightly, the corners of my lips pinching my cheeks. ‘y/n, I know it’s a bit late, but I was wondering if I could ask you to stand in while I rehearse lines? With so many brothers, a sister and my cousins, our house is a bit hectic to rehearse?’ He stood with his script, nervously looking to the ground as the paper slightly crumpled in his hand. ‘And I have the car, so I can drive you home after…’ I hadn’t seen a nervous side to Danny. I could feel my stomach churning, on the other hand, my heart felt a little bit fuller. I nodded, Danny, smiling in relief. ‘Okay, if you just stand here’ he said, walking to the middle of the stage. ‘I just want to rehearse some of these scenes with Benedick and Beatrice’ I swear, even beneath my thick sweater, it was obvious my chest was heavy as my breathing intensified. I slowly put down my backpack, cautiously walking to where Danny stood. He could clearly sense my nerves ‘Don’t worry, we won’t do the kiss scene or anything’ he laughed, flicking through his script. My heart cracked slightly, a feeling of despair…of course, someone like Danny Walter would never want to kiss someone like me…not even if it were pretend. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

For a moment, it felt like I wasn’t me, like I wasn’t that person with the stutter or that family that moved around a lot. The way Danny embodied Benedick was captivating, the way he moved across the stage, the way his arms gestured in ways to add liveliness to the scene. The way he created something from nothing. Danny had always been so chipper and nice, it was almost bewitching, the way he embraced the character so flawlessly. It was almost agonising when it ended, when Benedick and Beatrice went back to the page, and Danny and y/n came back. 

‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this y/n, having 5 brothers and a sister, as well as my cousins and Jackie at home, the only peace I get is at night when everyone is in bed and I have the TV all to myself’. No wonder he was always yawning during class, I looked at him, slightly embracing the wit of Beatrice, mimicking his constant yawning. He laughed nodding ‘Yeah I know, it’s a terrible habit but sometimes it’s the only solace.’ Boy, I knew that feeling all too well, when I played the piano it was almost as if I was someone else. He glanced down at his phone, the time 6:00 pm. ‘Hey, my house is pretty hectic around this time, I don’t know about you but I could use a bite to eat, do you wanna stop and get something on the way home?’ I wanted to tell my heart to stop, for my head to stop running away with the fairies. He’s not into you, he’s just being nice. I couldn’t even bring myself to call him a friend…I hadn’t had a friend in a long time. ‘y/n?’ He quipped. I nodded my head, looking at Danny to find my bag in his hand, his eyes looking into mine as he had bent down slightly. ‘The Lark, is that okay?’ I nodded in agreement, following Danny out of the auditorium to his car. 

The entire drive, Danny spoke of his favourite movies, always making sure to ask if I had seen certain films or if I liked them. He spoke of New York, his desire to go to Juilliard to pursue drama and his dream of being an actor. He spoke of growing up in Silver Falls, and how everyone knew everyone. ‘I have to say it’s nice to finally have a new friend’. I looked out the window, pulling at my fingers. I could feel my tear ducts beginning to well up…a friend. But a little piece of my heart felt slightly disappointed, but the overall feeling was overwhelming. A friend. 

The Lark was relatively busy on a Thursday night. As we walked in, a man behind the counter looked at us with a beaming smile, waving in our direction. I looked behind us, expecting to see someone else, but yet Danny was full of surprises. Danny was already waving back at the man behind the counter, gesturing with his hands to him, the man gesturing something back, and pointing to a table in the corner, a reserved sign on the tabletop. I looked at Danny, a stunned look on my face. ‘My brother Will’ he said, pointing nonchalantly as Will rounded the counter, walking to his brother and pulling him into an embrace. I couldn’t help but notice Will wore hearing aids. Will turned to me, Danny smiling ‘Will this is my friend y/n, y/n this is my older brother Will’. Will reached his hand out, I slipped my hand into his returning his shake. ‘Hi y/n, it’s so nice to finally meet you’ he said, his hands gesturing signs as fluently as the words came out of his mouth. Sign language. ‘Danny has told me so much about you, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name’ his hands dancing with each word. My cheeks pinched, my teeth gleaming as the smile spread across my face. 

Will walked us to the table in the corner, conversing with Danny about the play and the rest of their brothers at home. As we approached the table, Danny quickly rounded, carefully pulling the chair out for me, his brother smiling in approval as he gave his brother an approving wink. I untucked the hair from behind my ear, trying to hide the colour of my cheeks slightly. ‘Lucky you messaged me last night, would have been awkward to have turned my brother away, it’s so busy tonight’ Will said, placing the menus in front of us. Danny quickly looked to Will, signing something, his glare piercing as Will patted his shoulder walking back to the counter. ‘Sorry about him, siblings ya know?’ I nodded, I knew exactly what he meant. My own sister certainly had her moments. ‘You have siblings?’ He asked. I nodded, holding up a single finger. ‘Her name doesn’t happen to be y/s/n?’ He asked curiously. My eyebrows knotted together as I suspiciously met Danny’s gaze. I nodded. ‘My sister Parker has been talking about a new friend she’s made at school’. Goodness…this town really was tiny. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Danny’s conversation was as cozy and warm as the soup we ate. He talked about his family, the ranch he grew up on, the animals on his farm. It was a nice change, to listen to someone talk about stability, it was something foreign to me, having moved around so much. The way Danny talked about it, it seemed the Walter house was non-stop. No wonder he stayed up during the night to watch movies. In return, I showed him pictures of my own family, my little sister, and my beloved piano. By the time most of the crowd had cleared out from The Lark, it was as if no time had passed at all, I could have sat there all night listening to Danny talk about his dreams of Juilliard, his aspirations of being an actor. It was only when Will approached us, with four mugs and a coffee pot that I looked around to realise everyone had gone, the open sign switched to shut. Will pulled some chairs, and the other waitress sat down too. ‘Y/N, this is Haley, my fiancé.’ I nodded in hello as she did too. Will and Haley poured the coffee, diving into a conversation about their upcoming wedding, Will’s new job here at the cafe, and conversations about their siblings. Danny told them about the play, my piano playing, and the upcoming auditions on Monday. We laughed, we smiled, I listened. Will even opened up about growing up with a hearing impediment. I hadn’t felt so included by people outside my own house in a lifetime. ‘Hey, we should give y/n a sign name’ Haley chimed. I looked at her, my eyes softening. I felt taken aback, that these people who had scarcely met me were already willing to include me in such a precious way. I looked at Danny, his gaze looking back at me with pure heartfelt kindness. Danny lifted his hand, shifting from left to right, as he delicately placed his fingers on the table like a piano. At that moment, it was as if Danny Walter had played the keys of my heart. 

Only when I looked behind Danny and saw the clock did I realise the time. Danny sat up, clearly worried as my face turned from solum comfort to one of panic. He followed my gaze, looking at the clock. I quickly gathered my bag, the chair scraping across the floor as I stood up, realising I hadn’t texted Mom or Dad to let them know where I was. I grabbed my wallet out of my bag, my hands shaking as I dug out a $20 bill placing it on the table for the meal. Haley tried to protest, but I was already rushing out the door, Danny closely in tow. He rushed ahead, unlocking the car and opening the passenger door for me. I climbed in, already bringing up the GPS on my phone. Danny climbed in glancing at my phone as I showed him the map. ‘Don’t worry, I know where the old Anderson’s place is, I have a shortcut.’ This town was too tiny for its own good. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

When Danny pulled into the driveway, I was surprised to see my parents sitting so calmly, reading their books on the couch through the window. They didn’t even look up at the sound of Danny’s car pulling up. I took a deep breath, leaning back into the seat, unsure of what was happening. I almost expected to return home to a cop car in the driveway. I unzipped my backpack, digging into the bottom to find my phone. 1 text from Mom.

‘Will from the Lark Cafe called to let us know you were there. Enjoy x’

I showed Danny the text, slightly confused. He smiled ‘That’s Will…always thinking ahead, plus he used to hang out with the Andersons kids so I’m not surprised he still remembers the phone number’. I was beginning to get the impression that the Walters were the pillar of the Silver Falls community. I looked back to the window, my Mom giving a small wave as she got up from her spot on the couch, and walked toward the kitchen. I looked at Danny, smiling as I reached for the door handle. It was totally stiff, I jiggled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. ‘Oh yeah, there’s a trick to it’ Danny said, taking off his seatbelt and sliding across the seat, reaching his arm across my body as he un-clicked the door. 

I glanced down, Danny’s gaze looking up at mine. He slowly rose, our eyes locked. Our faces were so close, I could feel his breath on my face. My eyes glanced down to his lips, his lips were slightly parted. I looked up, his eyes were on my lips. I moved forward slightly, the tip of my nose touching his, prompting him to move forward. Our noses slid, tucking into one another. 

*BANG*

Our foreheads banged against one another, I pulled back pressing my hand up against the throbbing pain. ‘Y/N’S HOME’ My sister shouted, her stuffed monkey in hand, her hair slightly dishevelled as she stood in her pyjamas at the living room window banging away. I quickly grabbed my bag, and getting out of the car, in pure embarrassment, I ran straight into the house. 

‘Hey, how was your evening?’ My Mom asked, her voice getting quieter as I walked down the hallway, straight to my bedroom. I leaned against the back of the door, sliding down to the ground, cradling my knees in my chest. I know I should be happy, and I was. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all too good to be true. That Danny was too good to be true. That it would all come crumbling down around me. That all things too good meant that something bad was coming. The only way to stop the bad thing from coming was to stop the happiness from becoming. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

I hadn’t been back at school since the last drama meet. On Monday morning as I approached school, Danny stood there across the road, his eyes searching until his eyes landed. His cheeks were pink, he was clearly waiting for me. It was all too overwhelming. It’s amazing how all the signs are there, and yet my brain could find all the reasons to not let it happen, to not let it be possible. The only way to protect myself, to protect him, was to ignore Danny Walter. 

Fear had always been something greater than happiness. Even when I felt happy, like that night at the Lark Cafe, it was the retrospect of it all that made it so frightening. The fantasy was becoming all too real, the feelings were overpowering. Danny Walter was destined for greatness, he would go to Juilliard, and he would meet someone equally as passionate, as dedicated and as confident as him. It wouldn’t have worked I repeated to myself over and over. But it didn’t ease the heartache. Sometimes silence was easier than facing words. 

I stared back at him for a moment. Contemplating crossing the road. But I couldn’t. I turned away, walking away from school, leaving Danny standing there. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sunday Night

‘Y/N would you come here please?’ My Mom’s voice called from the kitchen. Mom and Dad stood at the kitchen island, another figure with them. The person turned around slowly to face me too. Shit. 

Miss Jacobs’ sat at the table with my parents, a folder containing my attendance records in front of her. ‘You haven’t been at school all week?’ My Dad stated more than asked, his voice slightly raised as my Mom sat with her fingers tightly interlaced. I shook my head. ‘You’ve been sneaking off with that boy who dropped you home that night after Thursday’s drama meet?’ Dad questioned. My eyes widened. I shook my head, looking straight into his eyes with a pleading look. ‘Danny Walter?’ Miss Jacobs questioned. I looked at her, a look of pure confusion on my face. ‘Danny actually came by my office on Friday, he asked after you’. My Mom and Dad looked at each other in surprise. ‘Mr and Mrs y/l/n, I can assure you that y/n has been the only student absent from school this week consistently, I know that y/n has had issues at past schools with attendance. But before this, y/n’s attendance has been extremely satisfactory.’ My mom reached across the table, interlacing her fingers with dads. ‘Y/N I know you’ve had issues with bullying at your past schools, but you seemed to be doing so well at Silver Falls, is there anyone or anything we need to address?’ I shook my head solemnly. The truth was, Silver Falls had been all too good. ‘You’re a great student y/n, your grades have been satisfactory, you’ve made an excellent addition to the drama club as a pianist, you’ve got a friend who clearly cares about you…what are we missing?’ Miss Jacobs asked. It was only when she mentioned a friend who cares did the tears started to fall. I got up from the table, running to the solitude of my room…

*knock knock knock*

I wiped my eyes, turning over as my Mom slowly opened the door. She closed it behind her, shuffling under the bed's covers with me, as she lovingly brought me into her embrace. ‘Am I right in thinking this friend of yours is a bit special?’ She asked, her cheek leaning on the top of my head. My throat squeaked involuntarily as I cried a bit harder. ‘Oh, sweetheart, did he hurt you?’ I shook my head against her chest. ‘Did you hurt him?’ She whispered. I took in a deep breath, wanting to shake my head, but I knew that would be a lie. I nodded my head slowly. ‘Did you want to hurt his feelings?’ I shook my head. She let out a big sigh, her heartbeat calming down as she began to understand the situation. Many times in the past, conversations like this were always due to bullying, unsupportive school environments…ones that had resulted in moving schools, sometimes towns. I could tell she was relieved, but I certainly was not. ‘Sweetheart, some choices are scary, but sometimes they are worth making…’

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

My mom’s words rang through my head. Sometimes choices are scary, but sometimes they are worth making. I walked into homeroom quickly, I wasn’t going to allow the fear to take control. I opened the door slipping into the classroom. I took a deep breath, looking around the room to find Danny Walter was not there. I looked around, only to find a similar pair of eyes on me. Cole’s gaze was hard as a rock, yet narrow with suspicion. He looked me up and down, slightly rolling his eyes as he pursed his lips and turned his attention back to the girls fighting for his attention. 

Deep breath. Sometimes choices are scary, but sometimes they are worth making. I walked straight up to Cole, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around slowly, making it very clear he didn’t have any interest in engaging with me. Danny I signed, his sign name similar to the movement of a director’s clapperboard. He shifted his head to the other side, pursing his lips again. ‘Why do you care?’ He asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Erin and Olivia’s glares also fixated on me. I could feel my insides quivering. ‘Don’t let the fear take over, don’t let the fear take over’ I repeated in my head. I signed his name again. Danny. He sat up, leaning back into his chair, crossing his arms. ‘Someone he cared about hurt him, and he didn’t feel like coming in today.’ It was like a heavy weight had dropped on my chest like someone was playing all the bad keys in my head. ‘Probably because of you, he didn’t get the part in the play either’ Olivia remarked in a snarky voice. Danny and Erin both turned around, glaring at Olivia as she looked back at them slightly confused. My heart cracked again…how did he not get the part of Benedick? By the time Cole had started his next sentence, I was already out of the room. 

I ran down the hallway, my shoes skidding beneath me as I halted outside the auditorium door. The audition results were listed on the bulletin board. It was true, that Danny had not gotten the role of Benedick. I began to pick at my fingers. I looked up and down the empty hallway. I could go back to class…or I could make this right. 

I need to make this right.  

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

I was breathless by the time I got to the Lark. The place was empty, everyone likely at school and work, the morning rush past as the tables were littered with empty mugs and dirty plates. I looked through the window, Haley was busy collecting plates from the tables. Luckily, she was alone. I slowly opened the door, the bell ringing. ‘y/n?’ Haley asked, clearly confused as I should be at school. ‘Are you okay? Danny came in practically like every day last week asking if you had been in.’ I stood there, my mouth dropping slightly, the picking at my nail beds increasing. ‘You okay?’ She asked again, putting the plates in her hand down as she walked toward me, gently placing her hands on my wrists, and pulling my hands apart. She looked down at my fingers. ‘Will used to chew his nails when things got overwhelming, I’d notice that sort of stress anywhere’ she sympathetically noted, brushing her thumbs back and forth over my skin. I could feel my eyes begin to tear slightly. I shakily reached into my pocket, bringing up the GPS app, and giving it to Haley. She looked at me, confused. Danny I signed. ‘He’s not at school?’ She asked curiously. I shook my head, my eyes pleading as I signed again. Danny. I didn’t know what it was about Haley…it just felt like she understood. She took my phone, typing on the screen before giving it back. ‘The Walter’s ranch isn’t far, but their driveway is rather long, do you have a car?’ She asked, her eyebrows knotted together in concern. I shook my head, but I didn’t care. I quickly gripped onto her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, before tapping Go on the GPS, heading back out the door, toward Walter’s farm. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Knock, knock*

I tentatively stepped back from the door. Looking around cautiously, I gripped the envelope in my hand, likely crushing the contents inside. I could feel my heart beating so loudly in my ears, I didn’t hear the door click open. ‘Y/N?’ I looked up. It was the first time I had seen Danny without his beanie on, his hair slightly scruffy. His face seemed one of relief as I looked at him. But the relief turned to one of hurt, the corners of his eyes slightly dropping. I lifted the envelope, holding it out…but he only stared. ‘What do you want?’ He asked, his voice clearly tired. I shook the envelope, begging him to take it. He stared at it, finally cautiously taking it. He opened it, reading the contents of the page intently. ‘This is a Juilliard application?’ He asked confused, crumpling the page tightly in his hand. I pointed to the top of the page. ‘You wrote my name on this?’ He asked again. I nodded, reaching into my pocket and handing him a pen. He looked at the application, his eyes glancing over the contents. ‘I didn’t get the part’ he said, trying to hand the pages back. I looked at him, shrugging my shoulders, as if to say ‘So what’. I held the pen out, taking a step forward, pleading with him to take it. ‘I Didn’t Get The Part.’ He stated. I took another step forward, still holding the pen out. ‘I don’t know why you even care’ he said, beginning to rip the pages in half right in front of me. ‘You knew I was waiting for you on Monday, you saw me and you just walked away’ tearing another page. ‘You stopped showing up to school, you didn’t show up to the drama meet, you even just left the car without even looking back after we almost…’ another rip. 

‘I….I thought you liked me back’ he whispered, his head dropping to the ground as he dropped the torn pieces of paper on the ground. I took a deep breath, my throat catching, the pen dropping as my arm dropped back to my side like a floppy noodle. I could feel a single tear slowly shed down my cheek, the salty taste wetting my lip. ‘Besides, Juilliard won’t accept students who can’t even get a lead role in a crappy high school production, so quite honestly, Fuck your application.’ 

My sadness quickly turned to confusion as I finally looked back up from the torn pieces of paper back to Danny’s face. Confusion turning to anger. How could he think so little of himself? How could he not see how hard he’s worked? How could someone as passionate as him turn so sour and discouraged so quickly? How could he just give up?

I don’t know what came over me. I placed my hands on his chest, slightly pushing him back. He looked at me shocked. Again, I pushed my hands against his chest, the tears blurring my eyes. I dropped to my knees in front of him, falling onto the porch as I began to cry. ‘This was all my fault, this was all fault, this was all my fault’ I repeated in my head. I could feel my heartbeat rising fast, it felt like the blood had drained to my feet. I padded my hands around, my hands shaking as I tried to pick up the pieces of the mess I had caused. I felt a hand gently slip into mine. I looked up to find Danny kneeling on the ground in front of me. His eyes slightly teary as he looked at me. I could feel the ringing in my ears, a feeling of anger, frustration, and sadness was an exhausting feeling all at once. I had finally made a friend, and I blew it. I had finally met someone who didn’t seem deterred by my speech impediment, and I blew it. But what hurt the most, was that my actions, the hurt I had caused, had truly made someone just give up. I was used to disappointing people, myself, and my family. Disappointment had always been a constant, but to choose failure and defeat was to let it win. Even in all our moving, in all my silence, in all the changes, we were determined to never let the failure win. But in this moment, in Danny Walter, it seemed like it finally had. It felt like my brain was going to burst, like every inch of my body was pressing against my soul, like everything needed to get out. 

‘….Y….yy….y…ou….h..h…h…aaa…a..ve….a….v….o…..o..oic…e….u…u…u…use….i….t’ 

His mouth dropped, a tear falling down his own cheek. I didn’t wait for his response, I didn’t wait for the shock, the adrenaline was too powerful. 

I pulled myself from the patio, dragged myself down the stairs, and walked away. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

I wasn’t technically breaking the rules. I was at school…I just wasn’t in class. It had been two days and I had secluded myself to the solitude of the auditorium. I didn’t have the energy or the confidence to risk facing Danny Walter again. I had ruined it all…all because I was too scared to take a chance. Up until Danny, avoiding my problems, and risking too many good things happening had always seemed to work out. But this time, it was even more scary…like something was still to come. I couldn’t avoid Danny Walter forever, but maybe if I avoided him just enough things would be okay. 

My eyes were too dry to cry anymore, my chest felt sore, and the cuticles from my nails were all picked off. I spent the day flicking through the folder of music Mr Choudry had me print off. If I just kept playing, time would pass faster. Isolation was something I had become accustomed to. But it felt different this time, the thought that down the hall, in another classroom, the person whose company I still couldn’t help but desire, that if I hadn’t ruined it, I didn’t have to settle for isolation anymore…something I never thought would happen. 

I slipped another page off the music stand, the last piece of crumpled sheet music in the pile. My heart dropped. 

‘Don’t Be Shy’ 

Cat Stevens

Sheet Music

I stared at the sheet, it was as if all the happy notes had fallen off the page. Like the song was scrambled, like the lyrics, the words had lost all meaning behind them. I lifted my hands, gently bringing the fallboard down over the keys, leaning on it, my head resting on my arms. I closed my eyes, exhausted by it all, silently begging for the day to be over. 

‘Damn, I’ve sat through the entire show waiting for this song.’ I slightly jumped as that familiar voice sounded behind me. I sat up slowly, refusing to turn around, convincing myself it was all in my head. But I couldn’t deny his presence as the stage beneath me slowly vibrated as he stepped forward slowly from the stage wing. I turned around slightly, his figure standing underneath the stage light, his frame glowing like an apparition. 

He walked forward, cautiously sitting down on the piano stool. His body brushed against mine, our thighs pressed against one another. I could feel his body slightly shake as he reached into his backpack, pulling out a sheet of paper and placing it on the music stand. What had been twenty pieces of ripped paper on his porch two days ago sat in front of me, every piece taped together again. It was as if all my natural instincts had suddenly stopped working…I didn’t blink, I didn’t move, I didn’t breathe. I simply stared at the tattered page, inspecting every crevice where he had so carefully tried to fit every fraction, every rip, every wobbly bit back together. Not only that, his scruffy handwriting had filled out every section of the application. 

So gently, his arm reached up, his fingers gently slipped the hair on the side of my face, blocking my view of him, tucking it sweetly behind my ear. ‘There’s nothing I can say y/n, other than I’m sorry’ his voice slightly faltered. I turned to him, shaking my head. This was my opportunity, I needed to say it, no matter how hard it was. ‘…..I….I….I’m..mm….s..s..sor…r…r…y….D….a….nn…y…’ I said, a single tear slipping down my cheek. Danny’s warm hands cupped my cheeks. He smirked gently, pulling my face to his, our foreheads resting against one another. His thumb gently rubbed over the single tear on my cheek. I couldn’t help but close my eyes, smiling at the sensation of his skin touching mine. He gently pulled away, his lips brushing, pressing a gentle kiss on the spot where he had just wiped the tear away. 

He leaned his forehead back against mine, our faces an inch closer, like that night in the car, our noses pressed into one another’s, like a puzzle that fit perfectly. His palms still cupped my cheeks sweetly. “Tell me for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?” Danny whispered. I couldn’t help but giggle. Benedick truly engrained in his soul. I gently brought my hands up, sliding them up Danny’s arms, nervously wrapping my hands around the back of his neck. 

Our lips finally touched. It was like a gentle electric shock. Our mouths fit together so perfectly. His lips were tender and soft, his hands on my cheek guiding me. I couldn’t help but feel a little grateful he didn’t have to pretend to be Benedick for anyone else. I smiled into the kiss, prompting him to slip his tongue gently, brushing against mine. One of his hands slipped down, tracing gently over my throat, moving to my shoulder, down to my hip pulling me slightly closer, our chests pressed against one another. It felt like a film, like when Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branagh finally kiss at the end of Much Ado About Nothing when everyone cheers and claps. His hand trailed along my thigh, gripping at it and bringing it over his lap so swiftly. I gripped onto him for life, his arms wrapping around me as the kiss deepened. 

‘Oi, Romeo!’ Our lips jumped apart, but our hold on each other was still tight. Cole stood at the top of the auditorium. I slipped my face into Danny’s neck, my cheeks red as Danny turned slightly, facing his brother. ‘Miss Jacobs is heading this way, we gotta get to class.’ I looked up, my eyes peeping over Danny’s shoulder. Cole stood there, a large smile on his face, clearly trying to stifle a laugh at the scene he caught his brother in. ‘Bring Juliet with you’ he said, laughing as he turned around, poking his head out the door. I looked at Danny, our cheeks pink. He quickly looked to his brother again, swiftly stealing one last kiss. 

As we stood, collecting our backpacks, Danny stood. ‘Oh, I almost forgot’ he said, reaching into his bag, taking out a piece of paper, and handing it to me with a beaming smile. I took the paper cautiously, looking at the paper. ‘Juilliard Music Program Application’ was written across the top. His scribbly handwriting had already written my name on the top of the page. I looked up, his hand already outstretched like a gentleman. I slipped my hand into his and walked out of the auditorium together. 

[introverted-imagineer]

The Light Amongst Obscurity (Part 20)

Warnings: Themes of slavery, death, sex, violence and language. Take care to leave this story alone if it doesn't serve your well-being.

Before we begin, I'd like to thank everyone for being so patient since I wrote and put out the last chapter. My full-time commitments have meant that there has been less time for writing, and I'm sorry for the long wait. Recently I received the most lovely message from someone that read as follows:

'Hey! I really love your Collateral series! I was just wondering when you would ever make the next chapter! I really hope that you're doing okay, you're a REALLY good writer.'

It was the most lovely thing to be told. To all my fellow Imagineers of course, but particularly to the sender of this lovely message, this one for you 💝.

My fellow imagineers, I didn't think I'd even get a single reader, and now I'm posting chapter 20. Thank you so much for the confidence, kindness and love you have given me through following along with this. I'm glad the silly little stories in my head have brought some joy to others.

BTW, as I try to write along with the storyline, instead of making my own, I do intend to continue the story as the series continues. Yours truly and gratefully

--The Introverted Imagineer.

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I remember the first time I ever travelled by boat. It was dark, the breeze wafting a bitterly strong taste of salt in the air. My mother's arms wrapped around me, her chin shivering up and down as her fingers clutched tightly to me. Her scruffy and itchy poncho wrapped around my small frame as we drifted into the night. A brute man sat at the front of the small boat, rowing us forward around the moat beneath the castle. Another man sat behind, at the stern, his head inquisitively shifting as he startled at the sounds the world around us made. His tenseness was clear, his thighs spread wide as he pulled us into his clutch, my mother desperately trying to be the barrier between us. In the distance, amongst the tall grass on the southern side of the castle, a servant stood silently with a single lantern, pulling the boat as closely to the bank with the line the man rowing had thrown so begrudgingly at him. It was clear that nobody wanted to be here. 

‘He is waiting for you in the watchers keep just a mile down the bank’ the servant said, as he carelessly threw a small bag of coin into my mother's hands. The clinking sound was lighter than usual as she disappointedly weighed the contents with her hand. ‘What of my child?’ She asked ‘I’m sure his majesty’s counsellor would…welcome the extra company’ he snidely retorted. 

Instantly the clinking sound returned amongst the silence, startling the man on the boat as my mother threw the coin back at the servant's feet. ‘You can tell Godwin to seek his services elsewhere’ she spat as she carefully looped her arms around my shoulders, pushing me behind her, shielding the wandering eyes of the servant as he looked us up and down. The servant bent down slowly, his gaze locked on mine as he did, a chuckle emitting from his pudgy gut. ‘I could…but his majesty’s councillor may not be so forgiving…nor to your child’ he smugly retorted as he took a step threateningly forward. ‘Aren’t you ashamed? That your child must see you in such a…vulnerable position…’ he whispered, his hand coming up and cradling my mother's bosom. ‘I do this so my child will never have to’ she spoke, taking a step forward, her eyes ferociously locked upon his, matching his viciousness. 

Without fear she grasped the small bag from his clutches once again, taking a step back as her gaze fell to the ground, retreating from his clutches in defeat. His chuckle emitted again. She turned to the man in the boat, as he sat silently, his oars still in hand as he sat irritated, waiting for the whole debacle to end so that he may return to his slumber. ‘Please’ she said, looking him in the eyes, holding the bag out to him. ‘Just keep her safe until I return, and it is all yours I swear it’ she pleaded defeatedly. He sat there for a moment, looking at her, before reaching out and placing the bag in his pockets. My mother turned to me, kneeling to look at my small frame, placing a gentle kiss on my head and whispering in my ear ‘Go to sleep my darling, and when you awake we shall be home, sleeping amongst the hay’. I could tell by the gentle glimmer in her eye that this was not something she was pleased with in the slightest. ‘Come Twyla’ the servant demanded silently. She stood, looking at the man in the boat giving him a gentle nod, to which he returned. He stood, the boat rocking beneath him as he effortlessly picked me up and placed me onto the floor of the small wooden dingy. ‘Go to sleep child’ he said, wrapping the itchy fabric around me tighter. ‘You. Go get some food from the keep’ he demanded to his other companion on the boat. 

As the man had gone, and I lay with my head pressed against the creaky wooden floor, the sound of rustling water beneath me, the sound of clanking metal gently sounded. ‘Make sure you give this to your mother when you awake child’ he gently whispered, tucking a coin into my tightly wrapped blanket. I silently nodded, appeasing the man as he returned to his seat, waiting for the night's events to be over. 

I could smell that same smell, penetrating my senses. The silence was the same, the tenseness the same, but this time a new sensation of the vivid memory of the past overwhelmed my senses. The extraordinary sense of loss. Kurya was gone. My dearest friend gone, my closest companion since I had lost my mother…gone. The air was tense, adrenaline still pumping since our escape from the Pechenegs. I had no tears left, empty in the constant companion that death had been in my life. 

Nobody had dared come near me for two days. Whether it was from pity, fear, or anger. I didn’t believe I’d see them again, I didn’t want to see them either…but there was a pull. A pull to Twyla, to Kurya…even to Harald Siggurdson. My eyes were so dry a misty fog smeared my vision, everything was grey and dull. All I could feel was the boat swishing as it rocked down the water, in a direction I could not tell. Elena sat close to Harald on the journey, tending to his wounds, pressing her small delicate hands against the Viking's firm chest adorned with new scars that tattooed his chest. Harald sat there, whether he was enjoying the affection I could barely tell…but I couldn’t say I didn’t care entirely. I could feel his gaze shift to me as Elena’s face came close to his, her eyes shifting seductively between his body and his chest. I didn’t want to care. 

Mariam sat shivering, like my mother that night, her teeth chattering in the cold as the colour drained from her face, fading to white as time shifted throughout the days. Leif distressed, watching closely, impossibly trying to pull Mariam back…but Mariam was already half gone. 

I could feel the tenseness of everyone else…the anger that radiated from them impossible to miss. Logically, I could understand. I had deserted them, told them all to go to hell, cursed their names, shut them out. It was no secret I hadn’t been the best companion on this trip. But this was this journey was the only chance…the only thing that gave me a sense of hope so that I may be reunited with Twyla once more. All I could do was sit and wait…

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‘We will make camp for the night’ Leif announced, Mariam curled into his side as her shakes became stronger, her face more pale, her breaths more desperate. As everyone had spent the day wearily watching Mariam decline, there was no protest from anyone. Without hesitation, Kaysan immediately swerved the rudder, heading towards the abandoned hills that surrounded us. Another reminder of how far away any civilisation was. 

We silently climbed the hill as Mariam had insisted. ‘We are less vulnerable if we go higher…I cannot spend another moment on the boat’ she said, almost pleading as she looked toward the orange-tinted sky. A gentle curve of her lips almost escaped as she looked at the sky in utter contempt, admiring its beauty. Leif and Harald walked up the hill, their arms underneath her carrying her to the top of the hill, leaving the boat unmanned at the bottom of the bank. 

A gasp emitted from Mariam, making us all freeze, my own heart slightly dropping at the sharpness of breath that escaped her lungs. Was this it? Was this her final moment? ‘…Look…’ she breathed out, making everyone quicken their pace to catch up to the trio as they stood at the summit. I lifted my hand, ready to block the rays of sunlight that would pierce my eyes…but it did not. Instead of more fields, stone columns, some sturdy, some broken, adorned surrounding a stone circle upon the ground. The closest evidence to finding civilisation we had seen since the Pechnegs camp. A structure that was peaceful, and seemingly entirely our own as the orange sky turned to violet. 

Harald and Leif gently placed Mariam on the ground, leaning her frail body against a pillar as her strong shaking continued. The sun's glow highlighted the sweat that covered her forehead, and yet she shook as if she had plunged through the ice. ‘We will make camp here for the night, everyone go find anything to burn, you girls find something we can eat. Y/N you stay here with Mariam…you can’t be trusted anywhere else’ Leif snidely remarked as he stalked off towards the primitive woodland area. Harald took in a deep sigh, contemplating his stay as his eyes darted between myself and Mairam. 

‘We are okay Harald…please’ she whispered. But Harald stood in place, this time his eyes boring into my soul as his expression looked cautious. ‘Come Harald’ Elena said, slipping her hand into Haralds, grasping tighter onto his hand than he returned, dragging him into the woodland. 

‘C..come s..s..sit wi..th me Y/N’ Mariam stuttered, reaching her tremoring hand out to my own. I slowly walked over, slipping my hand into her sweaty cold palm, shocked at the icy feel. I sat in front of her, resting her hand in the lap of my dress, giving her a gentle squeeze in a lost attempt to provide some warmth and comfort. ‘I’m sorry about Kurya…I know you two were close’ she whispered, her eyes glazing over and she reminisced about him. I flashed a weak smile, but even the kindness of her words could not undo what had been done. ‘He loved you very much’ she said, a single tear escaping. I could feel my lips begin to quiver as I pictured Kurya standing there, the army and family he once would have died for, slaying him like cattle. The image was clear as anything, and the tears began to flow again. 

Mariam’s weight collapsed into me, as she weakly flung her arms around my body, letting my tears soak into her dress. She held me, not letting go. ‘Family has never been a constant in my life…Kurya was an extraordinary presence’ I sobbed, my voice cracking at the first words I’d spoken in days. Her lips gingerly pressed against my head as she rested against my body. ‘I don’t have anyone anymore’ I whispered into her ear. Her hand lifted, as she lightly stroked my hair. ‘Kurya will always be with you…your daughter will be with you once more…’ she muttered. I pulled back, looking deeply into her sickly yellow eyes, her look one of compassion, her hand falling from my head, trailing to cup my cheek. ‘Kurya spoke of a beloved baby girl’ she spoke softly, her lips curling into a smile. ‘It wasn’t hard to piece together’ she remarked. ‘But you never spoke of her, so nor have I my dear one…that is your heart whether you choose to share it or not’ she pronounced. It felt a relief…to know that she had kept it to herself for all this time…never uttering a word. ‘Thank you’ I whispered, but no words came out. Mariam gave a nod, pulling me back into her weak embrace. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Mariam’s gasps for breath became more strained as the stars arose in the sky. She silently tried to hide the pain she felt, Leif comfortably sitting behind her, his heartbreaking before him. I still hadn’t said a word to anyone but her, silently sitting there watching as Mariam sat dying before me. Death was a constant companion. Elena sat by Harald, curled into his side as she watched with weepy eyes, like everyone else's, as they watched Mariam suffer. 

‘I’m sorry, it is finally my time.’ Mariam announced weakly. It was almost as if you could hear everyone's heart cracking in two. One by one, everyone resentfully got up to say goodbye, cursing time for the thief that it was, taking away another person. I looked at Lief to find him staring back at me, his face one of despair and sorrow as Mariam kissed and hugged her friends goodbye. 

I could sense Harald in my peripheral vision, waiting for me to approach expectantly. But I sat frozen in place, looking back at Lief, trying to ground him as he held onto Mariam. Little did everyone know, we had said our goodbyes already, but I could not do it again. I had said goodbye too much, too many times, and our goodbye was as perfect as it could be, and we were both content with that. 

When Leif had finally carried Mariam off into the privacy of a warmer place, we sat around the fire listening to the crackling. Nobody dared to speak…or so I thought.

‘Do you think you’re the only person who’s lost anyone Y/N?’ Elena announced spitefully from across the flame. I looked up to meet her, my blank face adding fuel to the fire that had woken inside Elena. ‘You couldn’t even bring yourself to go and so much as kiss Mariam as she died before us’ she said, standing up, sauntering around the fire (closely dragging her hand across Harald’s shoulders as she did) and taking a seat so close to me that her body rubbed against mine. ‘What have you really lost Y/N…I’ve lost my father, I lost Kurya too, and now Mariam…people who actually cared for me. After all this…what have you really lost if nobody really cared for you’ she spat, her face inching closer as she spoke each word. ‘Elena’ Harald howled, making everyone else jump. ‘She’s right’ Brigtoc joined. ‘No goodbye is just heartless’. Elena’s chin rose, a confidence building within her as her feelings appeared to be mutual between some of the group. ‘We should have left you to the Pechenegs…maybe Kurya would have still been here if we did’. 

I stood forcefully, grabbing Elena’s arm and pulling her up with me. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, my body temperature matching. ‘You don’t know shit.’ I retorted, getting just as much in her face as she had mine. Dorn let out a pathetic chuckle… everyone's eyes trained on us…but I could sense loyalties didn’t lay in my favour. ‘You have no one’ she whispered, her nose almost touching mine as she dared to get closer. Without thought, my hand reached up, clasping her jaw, pushing her away as sharply as I could. Her jaw dropped, a sinister smile appearing on her lips as she readied herself for a fight. 

‘THAT’S ENOUGH’ Harald roared, standing up himself as he walked over to the fire pulling Elena away by her arm at least a foot away. Voluntarily she curled into his chest, grasping onto his shoulders, but Harald did not return her touch, his eyes piercing as he looked at me shockingly. A tense silence washed over us as everyone's eyes darted to me. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes in deep thought. 

‘I’m done. FOR GOOD’ I spat, turning without question, stalking back down the hill we had spent the afternoon climbing. ‘Y/N’ Harald yelled, ‘I ORDER YOU TO COME BACK’. I stopped in my tracks to see him at the top of the hill, a few steps away. However, instead of the fierce look of the angry Viking, I was expecting, his face had dropped, realising the words that escaped his mouth. 

An order. As if once again I were the thrall, and he were my master. 

‘Y/N…I didn’t…’ he began stuttering, lifting his arms and smacking them against his head in desperation, his eyes begging to take back the words he had just said. 

‘Curse you Harald Siggurdson’ I whispered, my eyes glazing over once more. I turned around, refusing to let him see what he had done. I stalked down the hill, into the darkness. Out of view from Harald Siggurdson. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

When the sun had risen, the voices trailed as the wind swiftly danced down the mountain, carrying the prayers and words of everyone. There was no mistaking what was being said. Mariam was clearly no longer with us. I sat in silence, listening to their words…their words of praise, of sorrow…of love. 

It was best to leave them in peace, to grieve their friend. Little did they know, as I sat on the sandy shore, my heart wept for Mariam too. 

Only hours later, after hours of silence did I hear any movement or talk from the group at the summit. This one however was not the piercing threats of Elena, Brigtoc or Dorn; nor the pleading apologies of Harald Siggurdson, but the sound of Leif Erikson as he sat beside me. 

‘I know why you didn’t say goodbye Y/N…Mariam told me everything. I know I was angry at the time…but I understand’ he said, sighing as he scooped a handful of sand, rustling it within his palm, before angrily throwing it over his shoulder. ‘I’m tired of death’ he sighed, bringing his hand to his forehead, and swiping it across his head in defeat. I simply nodded, knowing exactly what he was feeling. ‘I know you don’t want to come back to us, and I can’t say they want you back either’ he sighed looking into the distance as I was. ‘I promised Kurya I would protect his family, but he did not say any specifics…I will not force you back on the boat, but I will tell you that Constantinople is closer than you think. It is your choice whether you choose to come with us or not. I sighed deeply at the thought of being so close…but it too all seemed out of reach. My thoughts were interrupted as Leif stood. ‘But I do ask one thing of you Y/N…if you choose to leave, talk to Harald.’ My shoulders jumped as Leif put his hand on my shoulder, but I relaxed at the feeling of comfort as he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. ‘Please. You owe me that much…’ 

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I could hear whispers down the shore. I had not moved from my spot since Leif had spoken to me. But he was right…if I choose to leave, I need to speak to Harald. That much, I owed him. 

I slid my tired legs underneath me, standing to walk down the beachfront, towards to voices that carried down the shoreline. As I rounded the corner, a loud gasp escaped my lips. Harald pushed Elena away gently, wiping his lips as Elena’s face dropped, clearly disappointed by the sudden break in their moment of passion. ‘Y/N’ she began distastefully, but Harald’s words stopped her before she could continue with her tirade. ‘Elena. Please, a moment of privacy’ he silently pleaded, as mine and Harald's eyes locked on each other. When she didn’t move, his eyes broke contact as he slowly turned his head to face hers ‘Please’. 

Elena unwittingly began her descent back up the hill, stomping on the thick mossy plants as she did, making it very apparent she was displeased. Harald’s eyes had locked back on mine, his breathing increased as his chest rose and fell. ‘Y/N…I’ he begged, taking a step forward gingerly. ‘I need you to free me’. I said, not demanding, not asking…but informing. ‘I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me. Tell me that I am a free person and that any ties I had, and any I have with you are done. I need you to know that I don’t owe you anything, and I will bestow the same upon you. I could feel a hot tear escape my eye as I was adamant, that this would be the last encounter I would ever have with Harald Siggurdson. ‘I didn’t mean’ he pleaded. ‘It doesn’t matter if you meant it…but deep down something in you believed it. So tell me now. Free me and we can be done with this all…I can be done with this all’ I begged my voice crackling as I said it. 

His chest rose and fell again, his own eyes glazing over. ‘Of course’ he breathed out, the tears finally falling down his cheek. But his words didn’t give me the relief I so desperately craved..but it was enough for me to turn around and walk away forever from Harald Sigurdsson. 

‘Y/N!’ He spoke, making me stop in my tracks immediately. Even feet away, I could still sense the way his body shook, I could picture the tears that ran down his face. ‘I need you to know…that I am totally, utterly, divinely in love with yo’ 

‘THERE’S TWO MORE DOWN THERE YOUR EXCELLENCY’ A foreign voice interrupted. Our heads both cocked towards the top of the summit. A man with a blue cape stood with his hand resting at the hilt of his sword, his finger pointed down to us as more uniformed men came into view. ‘COME!’ He demanded. I looked at Harald, his equally confused and cautious look matching my own as our eyes met. Harald stood firmly, gazing back at the men at the top of the hill, weary of meeting their demands. 

A bird circled the men, squeaking and singing as he rounded them again and again, refusing to leave what would normally scare such creatures away. Its wings flapped, casting a shadow as it drifted in the wind down the hill, only to land feet away from me, blocking the path at which I had been so determined to walk. Away from everyone and everything. I looked back toward the men, my insides calm and steady as I felt a strong sense that there was something with these men. I glanced back at the bird, its eyes meeting mine as it sat in its place. I gazed back toward the men and began to walk up the hilltop. Moments later, Harald's footsteps followed my own. 

‘Which one of you is Harald Sigurdsson of Norway?’ The man asked as we walked towards the stone ruins, only now to find it decorated with a violet tent, men in blue matching the equal grandness of our surroundings that had magically transformed. ‘I’m Harald’ Harald said, walking gingerly toward the man. ‘The Emporer Romanos has travelled from Constantinople to greet you’ he said, moving to reveal a heavily bejewelled man sitting upon an even grander chair. I could feel my heart pumping, adrenaline begging to race throughout my body, my veins pumping blood as I cast my eyes upon him. The Emporer looked between us, offering a gentle nod in my direction, before casting his entire focus upon Harald. 

Harald bowed, I followed suit, curtsying deeply to my knees at the foreign man before us. He arose from his chair, walking towards Harald ‘We heard rumours that a mighty band of Vikings had made it past the Pechengs with a group of women’. Harald’s breathing slowed into a more normal pattern, realising that the men before him were friends rather than foes. The Emporer was clearly pleased and even more impressed with the news of the Khans’ death. 

‘Did your Highness come all this way just to thank us?’ Harald asked. ‘No, I came to see if you brought the treasure from Vitmor of Chude’ he said, a smile on his face. Harald conveyed the news that Vitmor had died on the journey, but that his daughter Elena had the object he desired. The Emporer smiled at Harald ‘We have already confirmed its authenticity’. 

The Emporer suddenly turned towards one of the many tents that had been erected in our absence. The curtains flicked open, and there stood Elena, bedazzled in jewels and exquisite fabrics. Her eyes locked on the Emporers only, the rest of ours locked on her. She sauntered grandly toward the Emporer…as if they were old friends. He took her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. ‘My bride’ he announced proudly, his gaze locked upon Elena’s. ‘The new empress of Constantinople’ he announced, shocking us all as our hearts pounded. 

Disbelief washed over me…this whole time…Elena was more than the simple girl we believed her to be. Her eyes cast over us all, as we all dutifully dipped into bows and curtseys…myself included.   The Emporer’s attention then cast upon me, as he let go of Elena’s hand, walking toward me. I looked toward Harald, his look equally as confused as my own. 

The Emporer lifted his hand, gently placing his fingers under my chin, inspecting my face. A gentle smile appeared on his lips. I could sense Harald’s chest beginning to rise and fall again as he watched the Emporer as he closely inspected me. Elena’s eyes cast longingly upon Harald. ‘Tell me my dear…what is your name?’ His fingers still resting underneath my chin, forcing me to look at him. ‘Y/N’ I whispered cautiously. His pearly white teeth appeared as his smile erupted, a pink tinge appearing across his cheeks. The Emporer turned toward one of the tents, holding his hand out expectantly. I gently slipped my hand into his, following closely as he walked toward one of the heavily guarded tents. ‘I believe, my dear, that we have found whom you seek’ he spoke to the tent. 

A man opened the flap, the tent too dark to reveal what was inside. A shadow cast out before the girl exited the tent. She was dressed in an exquisitely made burgundy dress, matching the colours of the flags that flew in the breeze around us, her hair pulled tightly into braids, wildflowers adorning her hair. As she stepped into the light, that familiar smile I had only seen in my dreams for months. On her hip, a baby sat in bewilderment inspecting her surroundings curiously. 

I gripped onto the Emporer, my hand flying to my mouth as I fell to his feet. A cry escaping from my gut…a cry I had longed to release. The Emporer chuckled, shooing the men away who instinctively darted to his side. But the Emporer only graciously wrapped his arm around my waist, bringing me forward to Mathilda as tears escaped her own eyes. ‘Twyla, a very beautiful name for a beautiful child’ the Emporer spoke his hand cupping Twyla’s face gently. 

Locked in an embrace, Mathilda pulled to the ground with me as my arms wrapped around her and Twyla, our faces smooshed into one another's shoulders and we cried and cried. I could feel Twyla’s tiny hand grasping at the strands of my greasy hair as she tugged. But I didn’t mind at all. ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you’ I cried aloud. Mathilda’s embrace only tightened. She pulled back, a teary laugh escaping as we looked at the state of one another's faces. I looked at Mathilda, a pleading look on my face. ‘You don’t need my permission’ she whispered cupping my face. She carefully handed Twyla to me, as I held her close, letting her little hands grip onto my grimy dress as she curiously looked at the world around her. Mathilda looked up, looking to see the man I also longed for, her face falling at the realisation that he was missing. Our eyes locked, and the sorrowful look on my face said it all, Kurya was not here. I wrapped my other arm around Mathilda, bringing her back into my embrace, crying in both mourning and relief that our family had been reunited once more. 

The commotion behind me faded away completely, my whole being focused on the three of us as we hugged and cried. The only thing I could hear from the commotion behind us ‘I’m in your debt’. 

I couldn’t guess how much time had passed, but my arms were sore, my eyes completely dry, and my beautiful daughter soundly asleep in my arms. As I finally pulled away, I looked up to find Leif’s eyes upon us, a gentle smile appearing to his lips as his eyes cast between Twyla and myself. Dorn and Brigtoc’s eyes both flickered over us, guilty looking to the floor when my gaze met theirs. 

‘Y/N’ that familiar deep voice sighed. I stood up, my legs numb, and turned towards him. Harald Sigurdsson, for the first time ever, looking entirely lost. 

‘How…?’ He whispered, his eyes darting in disbelief between the sleeping baby and myself. ‘Who…’ he asked, a desperate plea in his tone. I took in a deep breath, my voice clear as I spoke. ‘There's no other possible way’. Harald took a step back, his eyes glazing over. He brought his hand up to his face, hiding the quivering of his jaw as he looked on in disbelief. Elena watched carefully, her eyes focused solely on Harald, trying to unravel the emotions he was feeling. 

Harald took a step forward. Instinctually I cradled Twyla closer, making him freeze in his steps. Mathilda stood closely by. Harald’s face dropped, sorrow cast over him as more tears fell down his face ‘I…I would never hurt her.’ He pleaded. I looked at him, simply giving a nod, permitting him to approach. He delicately walked forward, cautiously stepping over the stones, as if terrified of waking the sleeping bundle in my arms. He stared for a while, not daring to touch her. Her restful breathing loud in its own small way as we both looked down upon her. I raised his hand, like a dandelion drifting in the wind, he delicately placed his finger on her cheek, placing his touch upon his child for the first time. Twyla gently stirred in my arms, but her sombre remained silent as she reached up, grasping her tiny hand around his finger gripping tightly. His heart melted before him.

‘Now my dear friends, a hero’s welcome awaits you in Constantinople’ the Emperor announced, a satisfied smile spread across his face, ready to take us onto the next part of our journey. 

[introverted-imagineer]

The Promise (Part 19)

Sometimes the most powerful weapon of all is the ability to block out the things that overpower us. To shield our eyes in the face of grief, to conserve our hearts from those that make them ache, to preserve time in a memory that gives us the ability to remain constant in a time that’s long passed. It seems a gift outwardly, to harness a power that philosophers, seekers, kings, queens, and warriors have spent ages trying to perfect…the art of not caring. The aches, pains, and yearnings trap us in feeling, but in reality, it gives a person life. 

In this moment, I am totally dead. 

When Harald announced the great river fall was imminent…everyone responded in what I could only imagine was completely rational. Fear, refusal…total debilitating anxiety at the suicide mission ahead. I couldn’t even feel my own heart beating…I didn’t care. Like death walking, not even the feeling of bodies crushing on top of one another as we cascaded down the horizontal drop of the river falls. When Cadlin’s innocent lifeless body floated over the rocks, the pained cries of her loved ones. Nothing…total nothingness. I had seen death too much that it had become a companion. The only constant in this world. When we buried her, not even the painstaking eyes, the fury from those who couldn’t understand why I was so heartless in the wake of tragedy. Harald missing, Cadlin dead, our vessel destroyed, the Pechneg’s imminent attack, how could anyone be so horrid as to shrug their shoulders and proclaim that this was just life? I cannot control it more than the next…but as much as I tried, I was simply a walking shell of the person I once was. 

‘What about Twyla?’ Kurya announced from behind me, as I sat motionless on the side of the riverbank. ‘Wherever she is, she’s somewhere safer than here.’ I responded without looking up to acknowledge his presence. The pebbles cracked together as I could feel Kurya bring himself to the ground, his shoulder nudging against mine. ‘You? Y/N? Losing hope after all this work?’. I could feel Kurya’s body tense as my shoulders simply shrugged against his side. He exhaled deeply in a frustrated manner. ‘You don’t care…not even for your own daughter Y/N?’ He questioned furiously, a tone of accusation in his voice as he had already deciphered the answer to his question before I could even blink. ‘Nothing we do matters…nothing we do will ever matter’. The sharp shards of pebble and rocks crushed beneath my palms as I grasped at the ground beneath me. ‘Twyla needs you’ Kurya stated dismissively, as if it were a fact. 

‘IT’S BEEN MONTHS KURYA’ I screamed from the depths of my gut, the words vibrating my vocal's chords, scratching my throat. From a distance, the sound of cluttering, crushing and chatting turn to silence as everyone's attention directed down the riverbed. ‘MONTHS KURYA, I WOULDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE LOOKED LIKE EVEN IF SHE WERE STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!’ ‘There’s more to people than just being able to see them, you don’t need to lecture me about that Y/N.’ Kurya seethed back angrily, his voice getting louder, desperate to hold them back, fighting as each word escaped. ‘IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU KURYA’ I retorted aggressively. ‘NOTHING YOU DO MATTERS, NOTHING I DO MATTERS, NOTHING THAT ANYONE HERE WILL EVER DO WILL EVER MATTER!’ The shards of rock scraped against my legs as I gathered myself from the ground ‘MATHILDA DOESN’T MATTER, THE VIKINGS REVENGE DOES NOT MATTER, THAT FUCKING BOAT OF THERE DOESN’T MATTER, NOT ME NOT YOU, NOT THEM, NOT YOUR SIGHT, NOT MATHILDA, AND NOT YOUR DEAD FUCKING WIFE’. 

‘You would be wise not to speak a word about my wife, child’ Kurya fiercely spat as he gathered himself from the ground, his body facing toward me as all his senses came alive at once in the face of vengeance.  ‘FUCK THE VIKINGS, FUCK THE SAXONS, FUCK THE PECHNEGS, BUT MOST OF ALL FUCK YOU’ I savagely berated, not only directing my fury at Kurya but at everyone else as they looked on baffled at the unfolding scene before them. ‘I’M BETTER OFF ALONE, I ALWAYS HAVE BEEN AND I ALWAYS WILL BE!’ I stormed past Kurya as his breathing intensified, stunned to silence, his body frozen…but I couldn’t deal with anything or anyone anymore. I stormed over to the vessel, grabbing one of the few furs Harald had kept from his stock. Leif stood watching on as Mariam curled up into his side, almost fearful as I threw items around, dismantling everything we had spent the past few weeks gathering and transporting. Adrenaline rushed uncontrollably through my body, and everyone was wise to not restrain me. I stormed up to Leif, Mariam grasping onto him tightly as he quickly shielded her small frame behind his larger one. I could feel his hot breath on mine as I stood face to face with his, our noses bumping slightly. ‘If you ever see that Viking again…you tell him I said the world will be a doomed one if he ever sits on the throne’. 

I was done with these people…I would never see them again. 

‘Kurya’ Mariam whispered tentatively as she slowly walked up behind him. Kurya had not moved for some time since Y/N stormed off, declaring she was done with anything and everything for good…not even for the dearest friend she’d ever had…not even for her own daughter. ‘Let’s find Harald’. He demanded, turning away from the direction Y/N had stormed off too. 

The terrain was mostly flat, not proving ideal for anyone who wanted to hide within the depths of the Pechneg territory. But I wasn’t trying to hide. The only peace I needed was knowing that Twyla was somewhere safe…I know I didn’t know it for certain but anywhere was better than here. She was one of the very few people in this world I had truly loved and lost, there was nothing from here, I wasn’t at peace with the world, but at peace with death. 

‘HYA! HYA!’ The sound of horses’ hoofs beating against the ground carried out in the distance as the sound of deep thick foreign voices shouted at one another. I stopped, slowing circling around the deserted fields as the noises seemed to get louder. Endlessly circling, a pang in my gut begun to ring at the realisation…something I hadn’t experienced in an age. Being truly, completely and utterly alone…susceptible and vulnerable to whatever prowled within close proximity. 

Maybe I wasn’t at peace with death as I wanted to believe. 

‘ARGHHH’ That scream…a voice I’d know anywhere. The pang in my stomach turned to a punch. Harald’s cries echoed from behind the trees as the sound of horse hoofs carried in the same direction Harald’s screams did. I didn’t care anymore…I couldn’t…I wouldn’t let myself, circulated through my brain, filling my head so I couldn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t care…I shouldn’t care…My head said one thing, but I couldn’t ignore the pangs deep within my stomach that radiated through my chest…I shouldn’t care

But I must. 

On the other side of the trees, Leif and Kurya silently stalked towards the smell of burning wood, smoking flowing freely through the air, proving that without a doubt this was, and always will be the pechnegs territory. A small camp, the tribe clearly showed no fear in their significantly small number. There was no concealing it, no worry, no fear…this was Pechneg territory. 

“Kurya and I will bargain with the leader for Harald…If they don’t bring us horses it means we have failed…You must get back to the boat and leave as quickly as possible” Leif instructed the girls as the group sat lowly in the fields, camouflaging themselves within the tall grass as they formulated a plan. Kurya sat silently amongst the group, listening intently to the conversations of his former people. There was no doubt in his mind, the urgency they spoke to one another, the sound of sharpening tools and metal scarping together. Harald was within his brothers grasp…and they were prepared for anything. 

“No. We wont leave without everyone…including Y/N” Eleana stubbornly exclaimed, her eyes bearing deep into Leif’s as she was intent on manifesting a safe return for all. Even Y/N. Leif sighed, bringing his hand to his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a frustrated groan. “Y/N has made it very clear, they do not want anything to do with us anymore, Y/N has gone and we will leave them.” Eleana looked back at Leif with anger, frustrated by Leif’s lack of hope. Before Leif could protest any longer, her grasped Kurya by the arm, crawling closer to the camp, leaving Eleana and the girls alone, their quarrel unresolved. 

As Leif and Kurya edged closer to the camp, the sound of the Khan’s voice could be heard laughing through the camp. Simultaneously, Leif’s cries could be heard borrowing deep from within his gut. The Khan clearly enjoying the torture at hand he dealt. 

“Leif…you must promise me something” Kurya whispered, lowering himself down to the ground, forcing Leif to do the same. “Y/N is a stubborn, impulsive, unpredictable individual, I would be a fool to not recognise how she angers you and has betrayed everyone with her sudden abandonment…But you must understand, my young friend, Y/N has lived and endured a life that not even I know the extent of. You must promise me Leif, you will find her and take her with you to Constantinople. Y/N will fight you, argue, make your life hell all the way there…but will regret it if they don’t.” Kurya pleaded, his eyebrows bunching together and he extended his hand towards Leif. “You heard Y/N, Y/N has no use for us anymore…Y/N is gone for good,” Leif whispered back, saliva escaping his mouth as he seethed with anger at the thought of risking everyone's lives to find Y/N again. 

Leif took a deep sigh, reaching out again, placing his hand on Leif’s chest. “Y/N has a daughter. A beautiful little girl who she has been separated from mere months after her birth.” Kurya could feel the beat of Leif's heart rise at the news, shocked at the prospect of Y/N having had a child since he last saw them. “My wife and I were never blessed with children ourselves, through Y/N, and through her daughter have I finally experienced the type of love my wife and I craved…a love for a family so pure that you would do anything for them. I cannot presume you understand that type of love yourself, but I urge you…protect my family.” Leif felt his heartbeat speeding up as he thought of his own family…his sister, the child that she had bore. Leif’s concentration from the Pechnegs to Kurya’s pleas stifled at the thought of the parentage of the child Kurya spoke of…Leif knew all too well who the father of Y/N’s baby was. 

“I will do this for you Kurya, only you…but you will be with me to bring Y/N back yourself”. 

The smell of smoke engorged my senses as I trailed closer to the sound of foreign words that carried through the trees. Each step forward, the louder his screams carried. Through the trees, the camp was prominently erect. This was Pechneg territory, and by the sounds of the screams, and the clutter of weaponry that stood outside the minuscule number of tents, the Pechnegs were not a forgiving lot. I didn’t need to do this…I didn’t owe Harald Siggurdson anything. My body however defiled my thoughts, with each protest, another step forward. 

As I reached the edge of the surrounding forest, I knew there was something deep down that wasn’t going to let me leave. Kurya…Harald…they had become so ingrained in my life that I could barely remember the hustle and bustle of everyday life before Æthelred’s castle…before the Vikings…before Kattegat…before Twyla. 

My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden disturbance as the Pechnegs drew their weapons running in one direction toward the long grass across the other side of the field. Their shouts turned to roars as the men called and shouted toward the camp. From a tent, one man emerged, his eyes squinted as he strode out, fighting the sun rays as he bore his eyes to where the Pechnegs had all run to. The men circled something, and their shouts turned to cheers as the man near the tent took a step back in somewhat disbelief.  The men walked back toward the camp as two foreign-looking bodies strode back to the camp with them…Leif Erikson…with a knife held to Kurya’s throat. 

“CUT HIM DOWN OR I KILL HIM” Leif demanded as he stormed into the tent, escorted by the men that had just ran threateningly towards the pair, now looking at Leif as some kind of hero. “You know who this is do you?” Leif questioned, staring up and down at the man who looked the pair up and down disbelievingly. Harald panted profusely beside them as he hung, strung up by the flesh of his own skin. “This is the brother to the Khan…” the man mumbled to himself, his eyes bewildered at the sight of the brother which the Khan had spent years vengefully seeking. “Cut him down or I kill him” Leif demanded. The men stared at Leif, the fate of their Khan’s long-sought mission, all within destruction at the blade of a stranger who had barged into their camp like a hero. 

Harald’s sharp breathing turned slow as his knees hit the ground hard…the metal pins pulled from his chest proving instant relief to the torture he had just endured. There was no time to curl over in pain…instead adrenaline rushed through his body, ready to return to the one person who seemed to bring him a small sense of peace in the chaotic world he existed within. 

“Somethings happened, they haven’t come with the horses Eleana exclaimed, as the trio crawled across the field, edging closer to the camp. From the camp, Kurya, Harald and Leif emerged from the tent, Leif’s heroic welcome turned completely as the Pechnegs dragged the three men across the ground to the pillars, tying all the men up. A man exited the tent, another pechneg following closely behind them, clutching a wooden box within his grasp. The man stalked toward Harald, Leif and Kurya, carefully inspecting them as they kneeled, tied to the pillars, totally at mercy to whatever the man had planned for him. He turned around, retrieving a knife from the box, speaking triumphantly to the army of Pechnegs around him theatrically…enjoying the moment as if it were long awaited. The Pechnegs laughed as they intently watched him wave the knife around as he spoke to them. 

Kurya, Leif and Harald’s eyes flicked about in panic as they watched the man tauntingly stalk between them, deciding whom his first victim was going to be…ultimately deciding on Leif. He ran his knife up the back of Leif’s shirt with total ease as if he had done this a hundred times before. The girls could barely hear a sound from Leif as the man sliced his knife alongside the Vikings back. They stalked toward the camp slowly, unsettled and lost in thought as alternative plans ran through their heads. They were not going to leave their comrades…but they had no idea as to how they were going to come out of this alive. 

Lost in thought, they could hear grunts slowly escape Leif as they crawled closer and closer to the spectacle of torture that befell their friends. They were outnumbered, there was nothing. 

The sound of laughter was suddenly replaced by yells of terror as the sound of horse hoofs trampled through the camp. The girls stood from the ground, amazed at the sight before them as dread turned to hope. The stampede flew through the camp, galloping and neighing gloriously through the Pechneg camp. As the stampede galloped around the camp, a figure emerged from behind the tents. “Y/N” Eleana whispered to herself. 

“GO” I screamed at the women as they stood in shock at the sight before them. Their stunned frozen silence turned into total adrenaline as they ran toward the camp, grabbing onto the discarded weaponry that lay unattended across the field. 

‘KURYA’ I yelled sprinting desperately toward him as the chaos begun to settled, the Pechnegs realising they were no longer in the comfortable dominant position they thought they were before. My feet carried me so fast, it felt like I couldn’t keep up with myself. My balance faltering me as I fell towards the ground. ‘Ahhhhh’ a deep foreign voice screamed, emitted louder as the sound carried closer and closer. A new group of men emerged from the trees, one man dressed much grander than the men that surrounded him…it didn’t take much debate to realise who this man was. Kurya had cursed his name so many times, vowing to be the end of him. 

The Khan. 

However his attention was not fixated on the chaos of the camp before him, but on the person that had just desperately called his brother's name…and his horses were racing toward me. 

My legs kicked beneath me as my body was hoisted from the ground. A foreign body clasped tightly behind me as I kicked and flailed, desperate to escape the grasp behind me. The person barely struggled against my flailing movements, seemingly unfazed by the fight I attempted to put up. 

My body was thrown to the ground behind a tent. I reached across the ground, clutching one of the swords that lay aimlessly on the ground, clutching its hilt and bringing it up to whoever had flung me to the ground as if I weighed nothing. ‘Easy Saxon’ Leif muttered, looking around the camp, searching for the others. ‘You leave us again, I’ll kill every Pechneg before I get to you myself’ he lectured, huffing at the end of his sentence clearly not too pleased with my return. I stumbled to a stand, Leif gripping his own weapon slightly tighter in his clutch. ‘I DIDN’T COME HERE TO BE RESCUED’ I shouted back, matching the anger Leif was clearly trying to bottle up. 

‘THERES NO TIME, GET A HORSE AND GET OUT’ Leif yelled, running back towards to fight at hand. 

‘Y/N’ Brigtoc cried, galloping around the corner, her red hair flowing in the wind behind her as she clasped onto the reigns of another horse. I clutched the reigns of the horse, throwing my leg over the horse, climbing up onto the horse desperately as it trotted amongst the chaos unfolding. The smell of smoke intensified as the tents began to blaze intensely. 

‘Where’s Kurya?” I cried at Brigtoc. ‘Y/N’ Kurya’s voice sounded desperately, calling my name. I whipped the reigns, mentally apologising to the magnificent beast beneath me as I galloped toward Kurya. I grasped onto Kurya’s shoulder desperately squeezing it as if to convince myself this was all still real. ‘CLIMB UP’ I yelled, watching as our comrades galloped off across the field towards the waterfront. ‘Y/N’ Harald’s voice cried as his horse roared to a stop…his eyes bearing into mine. Staring back into his, I could see Twyla’s. I could feel my heart starting to beat again…and I knew that I couldn’t give up. Not for Kurya, not for Harald, not for Twyla. 

‘THEY’RE COMING’ Leif’s voice cried as the boat came within sight. Batu and Kaysan hurried toward the boat, desperately pushing at its clutches as our horses came roaring towards them. Kurya’s clutch around my waist slightly begun to loosen. I reached down, holding the reigns strongly with one hand, grasping onto where Kurya’s hands clasped around my front. ‘I’m sorry Kurya’ I wept desperately. ‘I never should have said what I said, I never should have left, the truth is you have filled a hole in my heart that has long been missing, and I could never ever not love you. You are my family now’. His clutch slightly tightened, as his head lovingly curled into my shoulder blade. 

As we reached the boat, we desperately de-saddled, smacking the horses behinds, sending them flying away from the chaos. Every desperately pushed onto the boat. ‘C’mon’ I said, grasping at Kurya’s forearm leading him towards the boat, but instead, he clutched onto me grasping my shoulders, forcing my body to face his. His hands gently trailed up my neck, toward my face as he placed his palms on my flustered cheeks. ‘You and Twyla will always be my family…the amount of love I feel for you both, I would never be able to put into words my young friend’. He gently brought my face towards his, placing a gentle kiss on both my cheeks, leaning back stroking his palms down the sweaty hair on my head, smoothing it down. ‘Goodbye dearest Y/N’ he said, taking a step backwards, turning toward the sound of the stamped of horse hoofs that cascaded through the trees towards us. ‘NO KURYA’ I cried, stomping after him, only to be lifted from the ground from behind. My sight blurred as the tears flooded my eyes. I could barely grasp a breath as the blur of Kurya’s body stalked back inland. ‘I’m sorry Y/N, I made him a promise’ Leif’s voice whispered in my ear as he walked up the plank of the boat, placing my body down as the weight of the boat shifted, flowing slowly down the river, scraping against the rocks below. 

‘ÜLGEN I AM READY’ Kurya’s voice cried. My screamed shrilled, echoing as I stumbled toward the edge of the boat, desperately trying to climb over the edge. ‘Y/N’ Leifs voice yelled, his hands grasping at my waist, dragging me back onto the boat. ‘LEIF PLEASE I NEED HIM’ Leif let out a defeated sigh, my cries intensifying as the sound of Kurya’s shouts sounded further and further away. ‘LEIF PLEASE’ I cried. 

Leif’s footsteps slowly stalked across the wooden boards of the boat. I wiped my eyes looking towards Leif to find him stood with a bow and arrow in hand, a whistling sound screeching over my head as Leif released the arrow. 

Suddenly, Kurya’s cries silenced. His footsteps sounded toward me again, his body crouching beside mine. Leif lent in, silently whispering into my ear. ‘We will find your daughter Y/N…I promised Kurya that.’ 

[introverted-imagineer]

The Heart is Crimson

Warnings: Descriptions of assault, abuse, slavery and extreme violence. Adult themes. Please avoid and protect your well-being if you suspect this work might not be for you.

(Part 18)

I impatiently paced across the ground as the boat sat stranded on the riverbank. A broken rudder…a bloody piece of useless material…one single part of the whole ship kept me from Twyla. ‘They will be back soon Y/N’ Mariam soothed…a tired smile on her face as she busied herself sorting the collection of books she lugged everywhere with her. What would she know about anything…books could only tell you so much. 

Leif and Harald had trekked in search of a township by the name of ‘Kodak’ not too long ago in search of materials to fix the rudder. Each morning as the sun rose, and when it set in the evening it became harder and harder to clutch onto the hope of seeing my daughter again…my friend…my family. I stomped over to Kurya as he sat away from the rest of the group, listening, feeling and sensing the world around him. I didn’t even need to announce my presence as I slumped down next to him. 

‘Tell me something good’ I whispered, watching the river flow gently to where I yearned to go. His shoulders rose and fell slowly as he inhaled deeply, the corner of his lips perking up and he readjusted his bandages. 

‘You remind me of my wife sometimes Y/N’ he giggled slightly to himself. ‘Yesty was also very stubborn…but had a kind heart’ he said, his voice drifting into sadness. I lifted my hand from the grass, grasping onto his hand, and giving him a comforting squeeze. ‘How did you meet?’ I questioned gently. Kurya, of course, had mentioned his wife in passing, a story here or there, but never any specific details. He had never explicitly said she had died, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Kurya walked around with a broken heart…

‘There had been strife between the tribes…her father presented her to my father as a peace offering, to unionise our tribes through a marital union’ Another inhale, fiddling with the bandages on his face pointlessly. I gently squeezed his hand again, prompting him to continue his story. His despair comically turned to laughter as he chuckled breathlessly to himself. ‘What?’ I questioned, my own lips raising into a smile at the ridiculousness of it. Kurya was always the sensible voice of reason, it was rare to see a relaxed side of him. ‘W..Wh’ he emitted through laughter. ‘When my father presented my brother and I…it was assumed, him being the older of us, that she would wed him…she took one look, and without hesitation said I’m not marrying him, but the younger one I might’. He lost himself in laughter, a radiant glow on his face that I had not seen…only when he ever talked about his wife. ‘My brother was furious’ he chuckled, clearly satisfied by the memory. ‘Her father was so mortified by her brazenness…within the week we were married’ he said, his laughter depleting, but the smile on his face remained the same. ‘Did you ever have children?’ I asked curiously. His head turned toward me, as he lifted his hand to the crown of my head and soothed my hair. ‘I have all the family I need’. 

As I sat with Kurya, my thoughts were lost to memory as I stared at the river flowing down the bend, I barely noticed that everyone's attention had shifted elsewhere. 

‘Something smells good!’ A foreign voice sounded. I turned around to find a strange man, decorated from head to toe in tattooed ink, cockily and confidently approaching the camp. He did not seem deterred by the number of people who stood to attention at the sight of his presence grasping onto weapons as he stepped forward. I stood, making my way back toward the camp as the stranger and Gestr greeted each other with enthusiasm. It was no secret, Gestr was an immoral being, but his hubris made him a total imbecile. The natural comradery between the pair however was frightening. 

‘I see your boat is missing its rudder’ he noted, inspecting the vessel with great interest…and everything on it.

‘It is being repaired in Kodak’

‘So there are more of you?’ He questioned

‘Just two’ Gestr replied. 

The energy shifted as everyone, but Gestr, tensed at the sudden reveal of information to the stranger. I clutched my fist tightly as I whipped my eyes around to see everyone else similarly on edge as the stranger seemed satisfied with this newfound information. I looked back to find his eyes locked on mine, his own eyes flicking up and down as he sauntered toward me. 

He pressed his chest against mine, his rugged breath brushing against my head as he towered over me. ‘How much for this one?’ He yelled at Gestr, bringing his hand up to move the hairs that fell over my forehead. I brought my hands up, pressing my palms against his chest and pushing him a step back. ‘Not one of mine, unfortunately’ Gestr said, his voice seething in self-pity. The stranger's eyes did not leave mine as he took in every inch of my body. ‘My name is Baggi’ he introduced in a flirtatious tone. My stomach churned as an overwhelming sense of revulsion came over me. I glanced over at the boat behind Baggi, Gestr’s eyes intently watching my every move as his newfound friend directed his interests at me. ‘You are certainly a rare find in these parts’ he said in such a slimy tone, I could feel my spine shiver with discomfort. 

‘Leave my wife alone’ Kurya’s voice sounded from behind me as he sat still where he had before. Even from a distance, Kurya could always sense when something was wrong with me. Baggi scoffed at his remark. ‘Your husband?’ He questioned. I simply nodded, taking a few steps away to put some distance between us. I could hear the enslaved girls giggling between themselves. Baggi’s face fell slightly in disappointment, his chest raising in slight anger at the public rejection. He strode forward slowly, his eyes locked on mine as he rounded me carefully, his chest poking against my shoulder…taking a whiff of my hair. I remained facing away as Baggi continued his stalking amongst the camp. It was tensely silent as everyone remained frozen in place.  It felt like forever in the few minutes that passed. The silence was interrupted as he slowly stalked back toward me, his footsteps creeping up like a predator on a hunt…a chuckle emitting from his gut. ‘You don’t know who this is, do you?’ He triumphantly sounded as he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. I stood frozen as his rough calloused fingertips stroked the skin on the back of my neck. A fury of anger washed over me as my breathing increased. I could feel my heels digging into the ground as everyone's attention was solely focused on me. Baggi laughed.

‘You are not this man’s wife…this man's wife is dead’. 

I stood frozen, tense in fear, anger and confusion as this man so confidently narrated Kurya’s life to the group. 

‘This man is the Khan’s brother, Kurya’ My stomach churned as Baggi so knowingly told the tale of Kurya’s wife, and the Khan’s brutal assault and murder of his fallen wife. It felt like the world was spinning around me as I didn’t know any such thing about Kurya’s past. I knew he had a brother, but I had never imagined he had been a brutal ruler. Maybe this was why Kurya rarely spoke of his life as a Pecheneg. All Kurya had said about it was that he had chosen a different path…but never would I have known the consequences of his old one were so severe. 

‘Now the Khan drinks wine every night with a silver cup made from her skull’ he said as his fingers trailed up, grasping the hairs on my head as he forcefully craned my neck back. He inched his face so close, I could feel his chapped lips brush against my cheek. 

‘And put a bounty on his missing brother's head’ he said, his raspy breath blowing into my ear, his fingers releasing. I breathlessly dropped to the ground, scuttling towards Kurya on my hands and knees, desperate to get away from Baggi. I clutched onto Kurya’s robes as he sat, frozen in place…as if he didn’t even realise I was there right in front of him. 

‘He is worth money?’ Gestr questioned, striding down the board to Baggi. I quickly stood up, my fingernails cutting into my palms as fury took over. I was going to kill him. As I took a step forward, I was thrust back just as quickly as Kurya had grabbed onto the fabric of my dress, holding me back from perpetrating the extremely brutal violent attack I had spinning in my head as I watched Gestr. The rest of Baggi’s presence escaped me as I stood there, vowing with every inch in my body and soul to put an end to Gestr’s greedy, vile, degenerate, pathetic existence. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

In Kodak

‘Harald, Freydis is carrying your child’ 

Harald had endured many hardships in life. He had fought bravely in battles that left him forever scared, he had loved and lost people throughout his life, he had an enemy in his own brother, he had left the person he truly loved, and he had even battled his own demons and morals throughout his life…but nothing was as painful as hearing this. 

‘How long have you known this?’

‘Since we left Norway. She made me promise not to tell you’ 

‘You Bastard. I thought you were my friend’ 

The shock was almost as powerful as when he saw Y/N again, after all that time. The person he truly longed for…he had spent days and nights wondering if Y/N was still alive, if Y/N thought about him, if he would ever lay eyes on Y/N again…A year yearning after someone he thought he had lost. Now he would likely spend a lifetime wondering about the child he had never known about. Had he known, things would have turned out differently. The immense love he thought he had felt for someone…an enigma, and now he felt a love so overwhelming he thought his heart might burst. 

‘She understood that if you knew you were to be a father, you would not leave her’

‘and she’s right’

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Back at Camp

‘Don’t ask any questions, just follow my lead’ I whispered to the enslaved girls as they sat hopelessly on the boat, their hands bound in heavy chains that rubbed against their skin. ‘YOU’ Gestr yelled, charging back onto the boat, his axe in hand as he readied himself for a fight. What he didn’t realise was that I was just as ready for him. 

Gestr stomped across the boat, he reached his arm out clutching onto the neck of my dress and threateningly pushing me harshly into the side of the boat. The look in his eyes was one of pure evil as he held his axe up ready to strike if needed. ‘I’VE TOLD YOU BEFORE AND I’LL TELL YOU AGAIN, YOU DO NOT ENGAGE WITH MY PROPERTY’ he spat angrily. A could hear a whimper let out from one of the girls as their eyes locked onto the scene in front of them. ‘You don’t have Harald to protect you now’ he taunted, bringing the blade of his axe right up against my neck. My throat bobbed as I took a deep gulp, my skin pressing into the blade, reminding me of my mortality at stake. ‘I don’t need Harald Siggurdson’ I whispered against his pressing blade’. 

*BANG*

Within seconds, Gestr lay unconscious on the floor, a small rush of blood spilling from his temple. Elena dropped the heavy plank of wood by her side, shaking her arm to relieve the pain in her joints from the strike she had just delivered. I took in a deep breath, rubbing at the skin on my neck which luckily had only just been indented by the pressure of the blade leaving a red mark that would fade soon enough. I looked at Elena, as she looked back at me. We gave each other a knowing nod. 

I reached down, whipping the belt from Gestr, sliding his ring of keys he so mockingly jingled day in, day out. I threw them to the girls as they sat there in disbelief. ‘You belong to no one but yourself…do you understand me?’ I spoke, watching as all their eyes stared at the keys in front of them. One of the girls nodded, her eyes watery. As Elena jangled the keys, jamming different keys into the locks, one by one a satisfying clang sounded as the metal cuffs hit the floor of the boat. 

‘We must hide him’ Mariam sounded from behind me, as she boarded the boat with a handful of ropes. As quickly as they had been uncuffed, the girls knelt to the floor practically snatching the ropes out of Mariam’s grip and taking the opportunity to tie up the man who had kept their freedom from them for too long. 

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‘Welcome back! I see you have brought friends’ Batu called radiantly as the inevitable return of Baggi finally arrived. He dismounted his horse, trudging forward seemingly confused by the warm welcome, compared to before. I sat on the edge of the boat, my legs dangling over the edge, my skirt ridden up slightly in a flirtatious manner. 

‘What is this?’ Baggi questioned, pointing to Kurya as he stood underneath the branches of the tree chained by his neck. It killed me to see him like this…a man whom I only now understood why he was so broken in so many ways. Why did it have to be him that these brutes wanted? Kurya deserved more. 

Batu explained a fabricated story…how he killed Gestr (if only) and went crazy. That suddenly a group of people who disliked Baggi before, now welcomed his friends with open arms? This was too risky to play off I had argued, that he would never fall for such a ridiculously unrealistic story. But as their horses rounded the trees, there was no other option to decide on another plan. Gestr looked toward the boat, his greedy eyes hungrily fixated on me. I lifted my hand, fluttering my fingers in an amorous manner as if to say ‘It’s you I want’. But Baggi stopped in his tracks, clearly stumped particularly by my welcoming manner. He turned his head, making a halt sign to his friends. They instinctively grasped at their weapons, following Baggi’s lead as he began to question Batu aggressively. ‘What’s with my friend from earlier?’ He spat cautiously, with an aggressive tone. Batu stood there stumped, looking between Baggi and myself as I tried to sit effortlessly on the edge of the boat. ‘W..what do you mean?’ Batu coughed. Baggi lifted his fist, gripping onto Batu’s shirt. Metal clanged behind them as the men pulled their weapons from their hilts and belts. ‘We put something in her drink’ one of the enslaved girls, whose name I had learnt to be Cadlin, shouted as she cheerfully lifted her cup in a fictional drunken slumber. 

I took her lead, slushing the cup around in my hand, downing it’s invisible contents, and letting out a satisfying ‘ahhh’ sound. The girls giggled along with Cadlin ‘Y/N is a bitch anyway’ they chuckled as they mockingly laughed as I pretended to sway on the edge of the boat. Mariam ran over, pretending to grip onto my body, as I leant my body back into her grip, falling back onto the boat. 

I could hear Baggi laughing, his friends seeming to laugh alongside him, clearly relaxing amongst the environment, believing the story unfolding in front of them. ‘Well done’ Mariam whispered, a slight smile of relief on her face at the performance we had just delivered. I couldn’t help but smile back at her efforts too. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all… 

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The Varangians slowly loosened up throughout the afternoon…Elena, Mariam and the girls pouring more drinks as quickly as the men consumed them. I spent the time continuously embarrassing myself, pretending to embrace the lustful suggestions of someone as horrid as Baggi. There was one thing these men liked, possibly even more than Gestr. Attention. It wasn’t hard to gage, but it’s all we had to work with to lower their guards. How powerful the Varangians were, how they were so skilled, and how they were talked about with great fear and respect in the cities. Luckily Baggi’s attentions were now more focused on hearing legendary tales of his people, rather than roughhousing me like his friends were the girls. 

‘Well, well, well beautiful’ one of the men tutted as he boarded the boat, his eyes trained on me as his cup swished in his hands. Baggi sat rigidly, looking between me and his comrade, a seething jealousy evident on his face. I continued my facade, greeting him with a pitched giggle that washed a feeling of self decrepitation over me entirely. Batu clearly peaked at the sudden tenseness between the men as he grabbed another wine pitcher, filling Baggi’s cup. ‘I have more stories if that is of interest to you?’ He said cautiously. Baggi sat there, his eyes flicking between myself, his friend and Batu. He finally took a deep drink, wiping his mouth with the fabric of his shirt, satisfyingly turning to Batu to listen to another made-up story about the great Varangians. ‘You can come with me gorgeous’ the man said, holding his hand out so chivalrously. I reached down, grabbing another pitcher of wine as I clutched onto his hand, giggling more, being sure to stifle my balance as he lead me down the plank. ‘Don’t be long Engil!’ Baggi cried ‘I will be needing her soon enough’ he said with a laugh, Mariam and Batu following suit. But Mariam's eyes trailed on mine as she worryingly watched as Engil lead me off the boat…stalking away from camp out of sight. 

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‘No wonder Baggi was so eager to bring us all back after he found you this morning’ Engil moaned as his hands ran up and down my boat, his tongue swirling around in my mouth. We hadn’t had a plan past getting them drunk and assuring them Kurya was crazy…but after hours it seemed as though they were never going to leave and we were all but entertaining these creeps. I let out a fake moan as his stubble beard hair rubbed roughly against my chin. ‘Kiss my neck…I love neck kisses’ I moaned. He was ravenous for more…and I could only hope they would leave soon before he tried something else. His stubble grazed the skin on my neck, but it was much preferable to the tongue I had down my throat for the past half hour. 

As he busied himself, biting at my neck, I couldn’t help but notice the silence in the distance. What was once chatter, laughing, and the clanking of cups was now utterly silent. My stomach dropped…this was not good. Had they all gone? Had someone else come? Had they taken Kurya? 

I hardly realised my body went stiff as the gnawing on my neck disappeared,  Engil’s hands no longer roaming over my body. He pulled away slightly, looking at my face questioningly. His head began to turn slowly as he noticed the silence too, his hands pulling away from the lustful distraction he was already lost in. Shit. 

I reached down, grasping onto his hard cock that had been poking into my legs. He let out a loud moan at the sudden contact…the tenseness of sudden silence was replaced by satisfaction. I grabbed his face with my hands, shoving his face back into my neck as I fondled his groin over his pants, his body shaking eagerly as I busied myself trying to figure out why there was a sudden silence. However, it was not to last. 

The clanging of metal sounded as the silence turned to shouts. I desperately held Engil against my neck, but he pulled away strongly, throwing me to the ground as grabbed his axe from his belt. He stalked around the bushes that hid us. I couldn’t see what was unfolding, but enough to know it was bad as he stalked back toward me, pulling me by the hair on my head and laying me on the ground. He mounted me, holding my body down with his heavyweight as he delivered a piercing slap to my face. ‘YOU BITCH’ he yelled, lowering his face, smashing his lips against mine, sinking his teeth painfully onto my bottom lip making me scream. ‘WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS YOUR BUSINESS HERE?’ He cried as he grasped onto my wrists as I tried so desperately to wrestle from beneath him…but even drunk he was much stronger than me. 

He gripped the neckline of my dress, ripping it, pulling down my smock and exposing my breasts. I continued to wrestle beneath him, trying desperately to pull myself from the ravenous, raging man on top of me. He gripped onto my breast, squeezing it with all his might and twisting the skin. It was complete agony. His grip became slippery, however, as he pulled away to find the palm of his hand covered in a warm liquid. Only instead of being crimson ready as expected, his palm was doused in milky white. I began to cry as he let out a deep evil laugh, gripping again at my already tender breasts, torturously squeezing my pulsing nipples demanding answers to his questions. 

‘Please…please s..st..stop’ I pleaded through cries of pain, but with every pleading, his grip tightened. ‘TELL ME’ he screamed. My eyesight began to blur at the sensation of unbearable pain. My head spun as his words began to slur, the world in front of me disappearing into blackness before my eyes. He delivered another slap, making me conscious again. But my body was weak and in excruciating pain and torture it wasn’t going to last. 

‘I’LL FUCKING KILL Y…’

A metal arrow shot through his neck and he began to croak at the sudden impact. He gagged, blood pooling from his mouth into my eyes as his body shook, becoming even heavier. I screamed, crying at the sight in front of me. I had experienced violence, abuse, fear…childbirth…but nothing could compare to the dread of watching a person die right atop of you. Bleeding, eyes dilating, total and utter dread as his eyes locked on mine, his lips turning blue. My cries continued as he fell atop of me, the impact of our bodies pushing the arrow back out the other side of his neck, a sickening slushing sound-emitting.  My cries continued and screams protruded from deep within my gut. The world around me was silent, the only sound being the final desperate breath from the man dying on top of me. 

‘Y/N!’ A voice cried desperately. My rough rugged breathing had turned to hyperventilation as I cried out. ’T..tw…twyla’ I cried as the mans blood soaked my body. My sight was too blinded by my tears to see anything. 

Suddenly the body shifted from me, a voice huffing as they practically threw the man's lifeless body away. Those familiar hands grasped my cheeks. ‘y/n’ he whispered worryingly, looking down at my almost naked, blood-stained body. He pulled my tunic up, covering my bruised chest carefully before tucking his arms under my limp body, pulling me into his embracing rocking me back and forth. 

‘Harald…’ I whispered

‘Y/N’ he replied. 

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For hours he sat there with me, rocking me back and forth as I cried into his shoulder, too weak to hold my own body up. Nobody had dared come interrupt his act of tender care as I continued to cry, soaking his shirt. 

By the time the moon had risen and the sky had turned black, only then had my eyes become too dry to let any more tears flow. Footsteps sounded behind faintly as I sat there, limply lying in Harald’s embrace. ‘Here…it’s one of mine’ Mariam sounded as she placed something on the ground next to us. Harald’s hand came up, soothing my hair down on my head. ‘Thank you’ he whispered back, her footsteps retreating back to wherever. 

Harald gently leaned back, still being careful to hold my forearms as I was barely able to hold my own body up. ‘If I have your permission, I think we should clean you up?’ He questioned, trying to find my eyes. My throat was scratched and dry, my body was limp. It took all my energy just to give a single nod of my head. 

Harald’s hands wearily went down to the bottom of my dress, gently clutching the stained fabric in his clutches. He trailed the fabric up my body, being careful not to touch my bruised skin. He gently bunched up the fabric, his hands accidentally brushing against my tender breasts, making me seethe, as he rolled the fabric over my head, leaving me totally naked. He took in a deep sigh, taking in the sight of what the moonlight allowed, his face wincing in pain as he looked at the state of my bruised neck and chest. I could feel his shoulders drop as he took in the sight of me. The way his eyes looked into mine, I could tell he was blaming himself. 

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Harald gently lifted my arms, wrapping them around his neck as our bare chests pressed against one another. His bands gently slotted underneath my legs as he lifted my body effortlessly, walking us into the chilly river. He walked deeper into the water until the water was up to his chest. I could feel his chest rising and falling quicker at the sudden cold temperature that took over his naked body. I barely registered it. He gently lowered himself into the water, taking the opportunity to slide his hands from underneath my legs, tucking his arm securely around my waist, making sure to keep a close hold on my weak body. I let my head drop into the crook of his shoulder, my arms still placed securely around his neck. 

The sound of water splashing sounded gently as Harald took the time to carefully scoop handfuls of water into his palm, washing the blood off of my body. His hands danced carefully and gracefully over my body as he made sure to erase every single patch of red that stained my skin. 

‘Lie back’ he whispered, placing his arms under my body, lying me back into the water. His fingers massaged my scalp as he washed the remnants from the day out of my hair. I closed my eyes, taking in the feeling…it was pleasant. The only sound being the swishing of water. I could now begin to feel the chill of the water. 

Harald’s arms untucked from my legs, bringing me back into a standing position. This time our chests pressed against one another, instead of me being tucked into his side. I brought my arms up, weakly wrapping them around his neck, pulling our faces closer. Our foreheads pressed against one another, our eyes closed as the only sounds between us were the sounds of our breaths. 

‘I’m sorry y/n’ he whispered, as his arms protectively wrapped around my waist.

‘I’m sorry for everything…I realised today there are things much more important than becoming King of Norway’ he breathlessly began to explain. But I simply kept my head pressed against his, taking in his words. ‘I learnt today that Freydis has carried my child’ he whispered, an utter saddened despair in his tone. I could feel my heart stop…

‘If ever someone put my child through the things I put you through…I would find that person to the ends of the earth’ he whispered, a sniffle sounding as he tried to hold back tears. But he did not, his tears fell as he mourned the past, the present, the future, the child he would probably never know. A shattered parent. A feeling I could empathise with all too well. It was a reaction I never expected. 

I tilted my head back slightly, but our arms stayed wrapped around each other. I gently slid my hand from around the back of his neck, placing it gently on his cheek as his tears subsided, but the pain was still very much there. 

I leant in, placing a single peck gently onto his lips, pulling myself back into an embrace as we clutched onto one another, him mourning his child he did know of, and me mourning the child of ours he didn’t. 

[introverted-imagineer]

mkay I just gotta say, I’m obsessed with your Collateral series. It is SO GOOD. And definitely not to pressure you, because writing takes time… but OMG i wish it was done because after reading every chapter I just CAN’T wait to know what happens next (even though I’ve watched both seasons). Basically, I just wanted to say, you’re writing is amazing and don’t ever stop pls!!

Honestly, this has made my day/week/year/life! So sorry to leave you in suspense after each chapter haha, but I cannot thank you enough for your kind words <3 As an aspiring writer, this story is slowly building my confidence to put my own ideas onto the page one day, it's feedback like this that I cannot express just brings joy to my heart (which you, my fellow Imagineer, have done with this message)! xxx

Lots of love to you always,

The Introverted Imaginner

[introverted-imagineer]

A River Which Flows Deeper

Part 17

Warnings: Death, Language, Smutty themes, violence, themes of slavery, Vikings Valhalla season 2 spoilers

‘He’s Twyla’s father?’ 

‘Shhhhh’ I hissed back fiercely. Kurya’s mouth dropped as his shoulders rose and fell heavily at the shock of information I had departed. ‘I thought you said Twyla’s father was dead?’ He stressed frantically. ‘I wanted to believe it more than it really was I suppose…’ ‘Does he know?’ Kurya asked, a voice of concern in his tone. ‘No…and it needs to stay that way…Please’ I breathlessly whispered into his ear, gripping his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze of desperation. ‘Does Mathilda know about her parentage?’ He asked cautiously. ‘Wouldn’t have been hard for her to figure out’ I responded, shrugging my shoulders. ‘I care for you all my friend, for Twyla I will keep your secret, but you must do everything you can to get back to her, anything I tell you you must do. Do you understand?’ He exclaimed breathlessly. I could feel an uncomfortable weight in my chest as if someone were grabbing my heart and squeezing it violently. ‘Kurya, we will both get back, we will be reunited once more, together.’ Kurya sat there shifting his cloth bandage over his eyes, something he only did when he was uncomfortable. ‘I will agree to your terms if only you agree to mine Y/N.’ ‘Okay…’ I whispered, uncomfortable with the seriousness of his tone. 

It seemed as though the whole city of Norvgod had gathered at the edge of the city to see the infamous boat sleigh. I nestled into the lumpy fur piled onto the boat as Kurya sat on the edge of the vessel taking in all the senses around him. Upon the boat, a stealthy-looking man stood wearily at one end, jingling his heavy keys tauntingly in his hand. A noble-looking individual sat with his servant, fiercely clutching a grand-looking box within his clutch, his servant obediently sitting next to him. Two brute-looking men sat with their hands clutched to the reigns of the herd of horses below, looking on edge as they wearily adjusted their furs to cover their faces from the audience below. A singular beauty walked onto the boat, escorted by a man who held a chest in his clutch. She had a wise look to her as she looked on hopeful at her surroundings, her body however seemed rather frail. The figure fussed over her as she looked around for a place to sit. Her eyes locked on mine as her lips gently upturned into a smile. She turned around whispering to the figure, before making her way over to me. 

‘It’s nice to not be the only woman on this voyage’ she said, her accent thick, but her language precise and knowledgable. I couldn’t help but stare, admiring her calmness amongst the chaos as people waited for the sleigh boat to depart. ‘Forgive my companion, she’s had a long day’ Kurya interrupted as I sat in silence. She looked upward toward Kurya, nodding in agreement at his statement. ‘That makes two of us’ she offered kindly in an attempt to break the awkward tension that fell over the boat. She sat down gingerly between us, desperately taking in a deep breath of air. ‘My name is Mariam’ she spoke, eloquently introducing herself to everyone on the boat. I offered a gentle smile, enough to let her know I appreciated her efforts at being friendly. ‘What is your name?’ She asked, leaning slightly into my shoulder as she studied my face. ‘Y/N’ I answered curtly with a nod ‘This is Kurya’ I said, directing my hand toward him in a desperate attempt to get the attention off of me. ‘Ah, and this is my companion Leif’ she gestured to the man as he turned around, finally revealing his face. 

It felt like a double punch to the gut. If there was someone I was more surprised to see than Harald, it was Leif Erikson. Our eyes locked on one another as the shock transpired over us both. The man whose sister loved Harald, the fierce shield maiden who held the heart of Harald Sigurdsson back in Kattegat. The man who specifically implored I never ever make the acquaintance of Harald Sigurdsson again. He nodded his head curtly, I responded with the same gesture as Mariam looked quizzically between us. ‘This is Kurya’ I motioned, again directing the attention away from me. ‘Kurya is the man who will get us to Constantinople!’ Harald announced as he walked toward us. Leif gave Harald a puzzled look as he looked between me, the blind man and the so-called King of Norway. They stared at each other, as if they were telepathically communicating, the confusion over both their faces clear. ‘If we want to get there before the ice beneath us turns to rapids, I suggest we move now’ Kurya said proudly, sensing the judgement and doubt he was being subject to by everyone on the boat. 

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‘Out’ the stealthy man demanded as he jingled his heavy metal keys. Everyone looked toward the boat curiously at the commotion unfolding on the dock. I could feel my stomach churn with disgust as three women wearily stepped out from the cargo holds that had been locked and guarded so vigilantly over the past few days. Nobody had dared disrupt the man, Harald and Leif seeming particularly weary in his company. Mariam had continued her attempts to make friendly acquaintance with everyone on board, but the now apparent slaver had been vigilant in steering clear of her. It seemed he was intimidated by her presence as Mariam had proved to be a very educated woman. She spent her time reading, fiddling with outlandish tools and pieces that seemed to make sense to her, but peculiar to the rest of us. Leif in particular was fascinated and engrossed by Mariam. 

I looked back toward the girls on the boat as they stood lifelessly. I felt disgusted. The look of defeat and hopelessness was almost too much to bear as my stomach churned, anxiety creeping up my spine as I felt as though I was washed in guilt. The sounds of chains rattling as their footsteps sounded limp. It was too familiar. ‘His cargo, not mine’ Harald spoke as he tied skins to branches in order to make a shelter. ‘What are you doing?’ Kurya mumbled into my ear as I stood there, my arm tucked into him as we curled into each other for warmth. I hadn’t realised how hard my fingertips gripped as I dug them into Kurya’s coat. He let out a hiss in pain as I stood rigidly, my face hot with fury and anger. After all this time, why was I so angry? Why did I expect the better of Harald Sigurdsson? He had also kept such property, being me. 

I quickly yanked my arm from Kurya’s before he could hold me back, as he was so used to doing when my temper had boiled with Mathilda. I stormed over to Harald, picked up my foot, and thrust it into the pillars of his makeshift shelter, breaking the branch with a sickening crack. The skins and rope, tumbled loose as they cascaded onto the ground where Kaysan so desperately tried to make a fire. Harald jumped back before the shelter tumbled down on him. He looked toward me, his shoulders heavily lifting up and down as his face expressed surprise, more than the anger I was expecting. I walked up to him, shoving my hands against his chest violently in an attempt to berate him. All my strength only made him take a single step back. ‘Y/N…’ he whispered gently, only for me to smack my hand against his cheek. Everyone looked on suspiciously at the conflict, only to seem more confused as Harald stood there unfazed by my actions. I ran toward the boat, walked up the plank, and jumped onto the dock with a thump that shook the boat on the fragile surface of the frozen river. ‘You evil son of a bitch’ I screamed as I cascaded toward the slaver as he stood intimidatingly over the girls. I pushed my arms out, ready to shove him on his back as pure fury took over my body. 

Before my hands could meet his chest, his metal chain of keys flew up, swiping across my cheek with a gentle slash. The girls screamed, standing back at the sudden collision. My face burnt as my cheek began to swell. But the anger did not subside, if anything, it only made me madder. I stood up and with all my weight, ran into him, thrusting my arms around his lower waste, taking him to the ground with me. Our limbs flailed as I desperately reached for the keys that sturdily sat locked in his grip. His own hands reached for my throat as the girls screamed, watching. A sudden thud rocked the vessel as heavy footsteps stormed across the boat. Suddenly a pair of strong arms snaked around my waist, yanking me back from the ground as my back collided with someone's chest. His hands clutched onto my wrist, locking my arms in place as I desperately tried to force my much weaker strength against the strong hold on me. ‘Saxon. Stop’ Harald’s voice spat, his dry lips pressed right against the skin of my ear. 

Gestr rapidly pulled himself from the ground, taking a step toward me with his fist clutched tight. ‘Who does this bitch think she is?’ He yelled. Gestr reached into his waistband clutching an axe in his grip. As quickly as Harald had me in his grasp, he thrust his arm around my front, quickly brushing past my breasts as he thrust me behind him, standing between me and the knife. It was as if time stopped, everyone stood on edge both on and off the boat, waiting for someone to move, like a cliffhanger, waiting to see how the story would end. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of Gestr’s deep grunting breaths as he desperately tried to hold himself strong and tall in front of the poor women he had enslaved. 

‘How much?’ I spat, as Leif held his arm against my chest, wearing with his hand held out at Gestr in a stop motion. A deep wheezy laugh emitted from Gestr as he curled over, tucking the axe back into his waistband. ‘HOW MUCH?’ I demanded, but my cry wasn’t enough to break the laughter that took over Gestr’s body. Harald turned his head slightly, looking at me from the corner of his eye. ‘You want to buy my slaves?’ Gestr emitted breathlessly. ‘I want to pay for the freedom they deserve’ I spat back, tugging on Harald’s arm in an attempt to get in Gestr’s face. The women stood there, shaking slightly as their faces dropped in shock. It was as if they were in a reality they could only dream of.  Gestr took a grand step forward, his chuckles subsiding. Haralds grip on my body intensified as he protectively shifted his frame, clutching the axe on his own waistband. ‘With what?’ He taunted. Harald adjusted his stance, puffing his chest out slightly as Gestr stared at me, a stupid grin on his face that knew he had won…for now. I stomped my foot on the ground, disappointment washing over the girls as their state of hope retreated to dismay. 

As Gestr walked away, a piercing scream quivered my eardrums. One of the enslaved victims dropped to the floor, clenching at her skirt as her harrowing cries echoed across the icy glacier environment. ‘No, Orlaith, No’ the girl screamed. As she pushed Gestr aside, the source of her cries was revealed. On the dock, lifelessly dragged out by his feet, a pale icy body lay solid and lifeless. Gestr stepped forward, his leg hitched as he collided the heel of his foot into the ribs of the crying girl, her other companions stood frozen in shock. Another rush came over me, I clenched my fists taking a single stomp forward toward the bloodthirsty brute. As quickly as I stepped forward, a pair of strong arms circled my waist, carrying me toward the plank that left the boat. ‘YOU BASTARD’ I growled, directed both at Gestr as he chuckled over the dead body and the girl clutching her midsection in pain, as well as Harald who swiftly locked his grip around my body as he threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. 

‘Your efforts are noble’ Harald exclaimed with a frustrating sigh as he placed me back on the ground next to Kurya. ‘But you can do no good for them here’ he said shaking his head as he walked back to help Kaysan rebuild the shelter. ‘How could such a coward ever be a fucking King?’ I viciously spat as Harald walked away. He stopped in his tracks, everyone's attention directed at me as my voice carried down the frozen river. I felt Kurya gently place his hand on my shoulder, giving it a fierce squeeze as he clutched onto his walking stick with just as much force that it could snap. Leif in particular, his face contorted into one of concern as he watched Harald intently, as Mariam clutched tightly onto Leif’s arm. The aura in the air was tense, I watched Harald as his fists clutched, his back moving as he took deep breaths. I stood frozen, waiting for Harald to storm back toward me. But instead, he shook his head and walked back to set up camp. 

I watched from a distance as Gestr threw Orlaith’s body into the river, the same girl crying as she watched her companion's body disappear underneath the icy surface. ‘I can hear you breathing from here’ Kurya said adjusting his bandages. ‘That girl…all those girls…I just want my girl’ I whispered, my breath hitching in my throat as the tears began to fall. The once soft, now coarse crisp frozen furs scratched against my cheek as I desperately buried myself into the confines of the coat. Kurya’s arm stretched out, wrapping around my shoulders as he pulled me in closer. A sense of guilt washed over me, as for a moment before in the height of my anger, for a split moment, Twyla wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. How could I be a good mother, the mother that my daughter deserved, if she wasn’t on my mind every second of every day? Had I just controlled my anger, my temper, my insatiable appetite for control over every aspect of my life, my daughter's life? We would be together, happy. I wouldn’t have sat in a Novgorod prison, I wouldn’t have left the burden of motherhood to my companion, and most of all, Harald Sigurdsson would truly be as good as dead to me. But here he was, a ghost from my past. A burden of guilt, anger, love and disappointment. After a year, all Harald Sigurdsson had proved is that he was an unchanged man…and I was a fool for expecting otherwise. 

‘We should say a prayer’ the slave boy announced, interrupting the comfortable silence of slurping and spoons clanging against wooden bowls. ‘It is a proper suggestion’ Mariam offered peacefully as the silence turned tense. It seemed a strange thing, to mourn someone you don’t even know or someone you never knew. But even without words being exchanged between us, there was something I did know about the girl who died. She was someone’s daughter, just like I am, just as Twyla is mine. That is reason enough to grieve for a stranger. 

‘Y/N?’ A hushed voice announced sweetly behind me. I turned around to find a smiling Mariam standing behind me. ‘Mariam’ I breathed, slightly relieved to find it wasn’t anyone I had managed to infuriate today. She stepped forward, looping her arm through mine, facing us back toward the mountain. I couldn’t help but notice the way she leaned most of her body weight onto mine as she balanced herself on the slippery surface of the ice. ‘That was very brave…what you did earlier’ she complimented, giving my coat a gentle squeeze. It almost made me want to scream…what I did wasn’t brave, nor was it heroic. I shrugged my shoulders, directing my attention to the ice beneath me as I dug the tips of my toes into the ice. ‘I wish someone would do the same for me…if ever’ I noted in a rushed tone. ‘Mariam’ a familiar voice announced. I turned around to find Leif Erikson towering over us both. He reached out for Mariam, she wearily shifted her weight as she unhooked her hand from the crease of my arm, leaning into Leif’s touch. ‘It’s cold here, please go back to the fire’ he pleaded gently, his gaze totally immersed in hers as she gazed back at him with just as much intent. She nodded gently, casting a smile my way before staggering back to the makeshift campsite where the rest of the crew sat. 

‘Does she know we’ve met before?’ Leif asked as soon as Mariam was out of earshot. ‘She doesn’t need to know’ I responded. We both nodded at one another, a mutual understanding to keep the past in the past around the others. I hadn’t even told Kurya the extent of my past with the Vikings…only that Mathilda and I had escaped a life that no longer had any hold over us. Whatever assumptions he made were his own. ‘How is your sister?’ I noted, a snide remark in my voice that even surprised me. Leif seemed uncomfortable that I had brought up the topic of his sister he had once so fiercely worked to protect when it came to her happiness. ‘She has started a new life’ he retorted with a sigh…I couldn’t tell whether it was from relief or disappointment. ‘Why are you going to Constantinople?’ He asked with a tone of peculiarity in his voice as his eyebrows knitted together, creasing his forehead. ‘To start a new life’ I retorted. He simply nodded, turning on his heel, and heading back to Mariam. As I gazed at the group, a pair of eyes remained unshifted as they looked directly into mine. Harald stood by the fire, his attention focused solely on me, undeterred by my gaze staring right back at him. His face looked puzzled, almost calculating as his gaze locked onto mine. I took a deep breath, matching his own as our chests rose and fell slowly in sync. My heart broke slowly the longer I stared. His eyes were her eyes, the sharp bridge of his nose just like hers also. A warm streak cascaded down my cheek, followed by more drops. I reached up, wiping my undoubtedly red eyes…but the tears continued to fall. Harald’s face contorted to one of concern as his body shifted from statuette and rigid to soft as his eyebrows raised, his gaze taking in every detail of my body. 

I turned around and trudged further into the abyss, until Harald’s inevitable call to move on further down the river. 

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I trudged begrudgingly behind the stern as the horses towed the giant sleigh further towards Constantinople. I cautiously watched Kurya as he assessed the icy floor beneath, banging his walking stick upon the ice with uncertainty. 

‘I hope you rot in hell’ the servant boy commented as he walked past Gestr. I smirked, happy to know I wasn’t the only person with some sort of moral compass in the group. ‘What did you say to me, boy?’ Gestr emitted, furiously whipping the boy around, smacking him to the group with a snap so loud it made everyone stop in their tracks. He reached for his belt, swiping the whip from his grasp. I ran forward, stretching my hand out only to have a lashing slice my palm in my idiotic attempt to grasp the whip. A warm dripping of blood flowed from my skin as a piercing sting tingled my senses. Gestr whipped around just as quickly, his fury turning from the boy to me, only his anger heightened. I turned my back, only for the whip to lash sordidly against the skin of my neck, unprotected by the thickness of my coat. ‘Ahh,’ I groaned involuntarily, kneeling to the group as my balance swayed beneath me. 

‘LEAVE HER’ Harald’s voice demanded. I shakily placed my hand on the skin of my neck, gently brushing my fingers along the warm rawness of flesh. Luckily it was only a flesh wound by the feeling of it, but shivers quaked down my body as my senses burnt. I clutched my swollen palm, tucking it into my body seething at the pain in both my neck and palm. I could still hear Gestr growling behind me as heavy footsteps rushed behind me. I could hear the leather hiss against the gust of winds as Gestr geared up for another crack. Suddenly, a larger body squatted behind me, wrapping its arms around my body, forcing a barrier between my body and the whip. Gestr angrily shouted, his foot stomping upon the ice heavily as the hilt of his whip hit the icy ground. I swore I could almost hear a rumble beneath. A pair of hot lips pressed gently against the side of my neck, a warm quick paced breath pushing soft puffs of air against my skin. It almost made me forget about the stinging sensation on my neck and palm. His left arm gently unwrapped from around my body, as he gently curled his fingers underneath the collar of my coat, the coarse skin of his fingers running against my skin. He had untucked his head from mine, but I could still feel his hot breath blowing against the lashing on the back of my neck. He hissed as he inspected it, quietly muttering to himself in Norse as he gently ran his finger around my red skin. My balance shifted, my back slowly curling into Harald's chest as he brought his hand back around, running his fingers down my arm, now inspecting the searing pain on my palm. His fingers carefully traced the outside of the red pool of blood that stained the skin of my palm. My temple pressed against his cheek. ‘Saxon…’

*CRACK*

His grasp around me tighten as our bodies jolted in shock. The ice beneath us rumbled as it shook. A loud piercing scraping sound as our heads whipped to look behind us. The boat sat shallowly sunk into the broken ice beneath. Suddenly the cozy warmth disappeared, and the cold gust of wind returned, whooshing against my back as Harald ran to inspect the boat. ‘Y/N!’ Kurya called in a panicked tone. ‘I’m right here!’ I yelled back, pulling myself from the icy floor, staggering to his side cautiously as Gestr’s eyes shot daggers at my body. Kurya reached out, I clasped my good hand in his as he let out a sigh of relief. 

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‘PUSH’ Harald’s voice yelled, his voice trembling with force as he heaved against the wooden pillars that had be tactfully placed beneath the icy surface, and slid beneath the surface of the boat. Everyone groaned, our bodies shaking at the sheer intensity of force as we desperately pushed against the vessel. I hissed in pain as the flesh of my palm rubbed against the coarse wood of the boat. ‘PUSHHHH’ Harald cried again. The sound of wood creaked unfavourably loud as our groans got louder. With every push, the ice beneath us seemed to crack more. Quiet groans turned to yells as we desperately pushed the vessel forward. ‘PUSH’ Harald cried one more time, testing everyone's strength to the limit. 

Suddenly, the boat tilted up, and the creaks clashed as the vessel rolled onto the wooden pillars below, the horses struggling neighs ceasing as they pulled forward. ‘WE DID IT’  Harald cried, his exasperated voice sounding relieved and joyful. As everyone celebrated, embracing each other, I couldn’t help but notice a shallow dampness pool at my feet. Inspecting the ground around me, what was crisp white ice was now speckled with small pools of transparent watery glimmer. I looked towards the front of the boat to find a smiling Harald walking towards me, only for his grin to falter as my expression of relief did not match his. I directed my gaze back to the ground, Harald’s sight following to see the realisation of what was happening beneath our very feet. 

The ice was beginning to melt. 

A sudden rush of gentle pooling water sounded from the river bend, closely trailed by a flow of water. A true sign of danger…when the sound carries before the problem arises. ‘THE ICE DAM HAS BROKEN’ Harald announced, pacing back to the boat as he announced orders. A sense of panic arose, everyone ran about rushing to free the horses, to unlatch the vessel from the sleigh. I ran to Kurya, placing my arm around his waist, and hurrying him to the ladder. ‘Go Kurya, climb!’ I begged beneath him, placing my arms under his bottom practically pushing him onto the dock as the others rushed to board the ship. ‘Y/N’ he called, reaching his hand over the edge of the ship. ‘Go, go, go’ I cried, the slave girls running toward the boat. ‘Y/N’ Kurya cried with more intensity, hoisting the girls onto the boat as their arms clutched his in panic. ‘I know you’re still down there’ as the last slave girl loaded the boat. ‘I’m coming!’ I hissed back with just as much vigour. 

I placed my foot upon the step, beginning the descent…until I heard the commotion from the direction of the running water. ‘NO!’ I screamed, jumping back onto the ice as the servant boy ran to retrieve the coat of his nobleman…running in the direction of the flowing water. ‘Y/N’ Kurya cried from behind me. 

A loud and rushing crack emitted as a pitched scream sounded. Where the servant boy once stood, a small pool of tracked ice cascaded, a pair of arms rampantly and desperately clutching to the furs. The nobleman yelled to the boy…who revealed under his hat to have very long blonde locks. 

Without thought, I ran across the watery ice, ‘I’m coming!’ I screamed to the panic-stricken pair as they desperately fought against the frozen wasteland. ‘Y/N’ this time, a different voice shouted. A thump sounded as I whipped my head around to find Harald having jumped from the dock, running after me. But I continued to run forward as the nobleman desperately tried to save his servant from the icy death trap below. 

A strong pair of arms wrapped me from behind, giving the already stinging neck whiplash that made me hiss as the stinging cascaded over my body again. His muscles protruded against my body as Harald fiercely lifted me from the cracking ice beneath my feet, stepping back as he carried me in his strong grip. My feet hurt as he fiercely placed me back on the ground. Harald whipped my body around by the shoulders, forcing me to face him as his palms captured my cheeks. ‘YOU WILL GO BACK TO THE BOAT NOW, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?’ He screamed, his face mere inches within my own as he gently shook my face within his grasp. I was taken aback, shocked by his actions. ‘DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?’ He yelled again. I quickly nodded, satisfying him enough to let go of my face as he ran toward the chaos. 

‘Kruya’ I announced, as I reached the top of the ladder. Kurya stood at the edge of the boat, his arms outstretched as he sighed my name in relief. I fell into the clutches of his arms as he fell backwards onto the dock, his arms securely clutched around my body. I dug my face into his neck, as his palm reached up, gently smoothing the hair on my head as we breathed in a sigh of relief. ‘Come on’ he whispered, releasing me from his clutch as he felt for the seats, clutching onto the oar that sat resting on the seat. ‘Come my friend’ he said as he seated himself on the stool, moving over to make room as he clutched onto the oar, placing it into the water below. A thud emitted as Harald fell onto the dock, the long-haired blonde servant…girl gathered herself running to the edge of the boat, screaming as the boat thrust forward. 

I desperately looked for the nobleman, only to find she and Harald were the only ones who had made it back to the boat…

‘Here’ I whispered, wrapping one of the furs around the young girl as her puffed eyes stared at the rushing water beneath us. Her face was frozen…shocked in utter despair. ‘Father’ she whispered, tears falling again as she silently screamed in agony. I could feel my heart sink, and without thought I wrapped my arms around her, letting her body fall desperately into mine as she cried. I clutched her tighter, every time she called his name, reminding me of the overwhelming love I had for my own daughter. The desperation I craved to be with my own child once more. Her fingers clutched my coat as she sobbed into my coat. A tear fell from my own eye as I held the mourning daughter. 

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Elena sat solemnly, her face still frozen in that same look of despair. A look I knew all too well. I sat with Kurya, my hand clasped in his as I watched people try to console her. But she sat solemnly silent, everyone’s hearts breaking for her…all those who had hearts anyway. 

The icy floor had melted, now it was just the boat and the flowing river. The moonlight shone as the peaceful river flow allowed everyone to momentarily rest their eyes. But I couldn’t sleep, all I could think of was Twyla, and how I desperately longed to be with my daughter. I gently stood up, stepping quietly over the sleeping bodies as I headed for the stern of the ship, watching the moonlight reflect against the water. 

A heavy breath interrupted my silence as Harald leaned forward, copying my stance as I leaned against the boat, watching the water trail behind us. I know I should probably have thanked him for saving me, but all I could think of was his voice as he yelled…ordering me. Ordering me…after all this time, he still felt he had the right. This wasn’t even his fucked boat. My heart began to pound slightly, my nostrils flaring as I tried to calm my temper. 

‘Saxon…I’

‘Have you come to reclaim your property?’ I interrupted, looking at him. His face fell gently as he looked into my eyes, a sadness to them. But my anger was evident as I stared back, my chest rising and falling heavily as the others slept peacefully behind us. He broke eye contact, turned around and walked back. But his footsteps stopped, and his voice sounded gently behind me.

‘You were never mine to claim Y/N…I want you to know that’ 

[introverted-imagineer]

A New Voyage

Part 16

Warnings: Language, Themes of Slavery, Season 2 Vikings Valhalla Spoilers.

After the events of Kattegat, Leif Erikson and Harald Siggurdson voyage to the city of Norvgord in hopes of uniting forces with the Kievan Rus. Harald Siggurdsons wants to petition his Uncle King Yaroslav for support to regain his claim on the Crown of Norway, against his brother Olaf. 

When the Vikings are unsuccessful in their venture, Harald and Leif plan to journey to the city of Constantinople to raise an army. Their only means of travel is via slave ship. A prince, a slaver, a blind Pecheneg, a woman scholar, two con men and a noble, on a boat on a sled…and an unexpected surprise. 

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A Few Months Before The Events of Norvgord 

‘Do you ever think about the fact that there might be a bounty on our heads?’ Mathilda questioned as I sat poking the roaring fire with a stick. 

‘It’s been a year Mathilda, I think Canute has better things to do with his time than send his army to find two people of little importance’ I retorted, failing to hide the snide tone in my voice. 

‘But if there were a bounty, we could never go back?’ She stated, more as a question than a fact. I could feel the pit of my stomach spitting fire like the one in front of us. Mathilda never failed to be a hopeless fool, even after everything that happened. 

‘I’ve said this before, and I’ll say this again…THERES NOTHING FOR US THERE’ I snapped harshly. ‘If you want to go run back across the world only to have your head separated from your neck that’s fucking fine by me, good luck finding your way back there’ I seethed, saliva spitting through my teeth as my teeth ground together painfully. 

‘Kurya could take me…’ she mumbled back, more out of pettiness than actual seriousness. Kurya let out a huffed chuckle as he shook his head in amusement. ‘my navigation skills are only useful this side of the world I’m afraid dear one’ he calmly explained. ‘Thank god we came across one another all those months ago’ I murmured. ‘It is I who should be the thankful one, my friends’. 

Kurya had always been humble like that. If it wasn’t for him, it is possible I would have strangled Mathilda during our this past year escape. But I couldn’t deny, even before Kurya joined our little venture, Mathilda had been good to us…invaluable in fact. 

‘If someone could assist me, I’d like to briefly bathe before we trek on, just down to the riverbed would be most appreciated’ he curtly asked as he rotated his body toward me. ‘I guess that means me’ I exclaimed with a long sigh, standing up from the ground. My knees and back clicked with every movement. My body hadn’t recovered entirely since. Everything hurt, but there was no time to rest. Kurya taught us that. The longer you stay in one place, the more dangerous it becomes. A group of relatively unskilled refugees couldn’t afford any more danger. So every day meant moving, and there were no plans to stop, even if our bodies ached or injuries continued to deplete everything inside us. 

‘Are you okay, or shall I take…?’ I questioned Mathilda. ‘You two go, we’ll stay here’ Mathilda calmly whispered, as if the tenseness in the air had somehow missed her entirely. ‘Come on Kurya’ I sighed, walking over as he reached for his familiar hold on my arm. 

The water flowed at a peaceful pace, flakes of ice gently floating atop the cold liquid as it travelled down the riverbed. The grass beneath felt almost crisp as the winter air slowly turned the world to stone. ‘It’s too cold to bathe’ I noted aloud as Kurya squatted by the edge of the water, dipping his hand into the icy river. He smiled. ‘I may not be able to see, but nobody needs eyes to see your soul raging beneath your skin’ he chuckled. I let out a loud huff, my lungs filling to capacity as they exasperatedly deflated, my breath turning to fog as it escaped my body. ‘Are you going to give me a lecture?’ I questioned as he patted the cool water on his face. ‘Not today’ he said, turning toward me with that cheeky grin of his. 

Kurya sat by the riverbed, examining the water with his hands as he did each day. He took note of everything. The way the river moved, the height at which the river rose and fell each day, the temperature, the smell as the water brushed against wildflowers and grass on the bank. He never ceased to amaze me. 

‘Y/N’ he firmly stated suddenly. I could feel a spark travel down my throat, exploding in my stomach enough to make me feel unease. ‘Y/N we must go’ he said standing up immediately as he wandered his arms around to find me. ‘What’s wrong?’ I questioned, reaching for his hand and tucking it into my elbow. ‘The flow of the river…the feeling is disrupted, I don’t think we’ll be alone much longer’ he stated, already dragging me blindly as he took two steps ahead. ‘Kurya, it’s just us I promise you’ I pleaded as he dragged me along with his quickened pace. ‘Kurya STOP’ I demanded, digging my heels into the ground, jolting him back slightly. ‘Kurya. There is nobody here, I promise. We will move tomorrow like we normally do’ I said trying to assure him. 

His shoulders rose and fell frustratingly as he stood silently, craning his neck around taking in all the senses around us in the deserted forest land. The smell, the sounds, the way the wind blew. Birds chirped in the distance, as insects called for one another. The sound of the river gently travelled eerily in the background. ‘We’re okay, I promise. Let’s just go back to camp’ I pleaded, patting his hand with mine in a pathetic attempt to calm his undeniably exasperated state. ‘Let’s just go back to camp’

*crunch…crunch…crunch*

My breath hitched in my throat as Kurya and I both stood rigidly still. I could feel my shoulders hunch involuntarily beneath me, and my eyes scanned around as my sight wobbled at the uncomfortable sound as the crunches intensified.  I could feel Kurya’s fingers dig into my skin as his grip intensified on my skin. 

‘FANGI, dœma glíkr fangi’ a foreign voice exclaimed. Within seconds the rustling intensified from all directions. My body shook, as my thoughts raced. Fuck, Mathilda was right, what if Canute had sent his men across seas? ‘Kur..Kuryaa…’ I stuttered. His breaths became deeper as his breath intensified in a misty fog, pacing in and out of his mouth rapidly. ‘Rus Vikings’ he murmured. 

All clothed in the same uniform, from all directions, armed and saddled, horses jump from bushes as men triumphantly screamed orders in a foreign tongue. The ground beneath us seemed to crack as the large horses centred in closer, their riders unfazed by the sheer power of the creatures beneath them. 

‘RUN MATHILDA!’ I screamed, desperation carrying from the depth of my stomach. My voice scratched my throat, burning my core. I could feel my palms sweating as the sound of my voice carried across the trees, sending birds flying from the trees. ‘GO TO CONSTANTINOPLE’ Kurya screamed with just as much fire in his soul. The uniformed men looked at us, clearly stumped by our language as we were them.  

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The Rus as Kurya had called them spared no mercy. My lip stung as a taste of metallic danced across my tongue. The rope around my wrists burned into my skin as they tightened as the horses dragged us along. My stomach dropped, fear and worry radiating throughout. An icy cold current shot up my spine as my ankles clicked and buckled beneath me. The forest that once had rich sounds of birds and insects chirping had now cascaded into silence. I craned my neck, looking at the treetops. Where our campfire had emitted smoke that crept up above the treetops had now departed. 

I could only hope it was a sign that Mathilda had heard our warnings. 

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Norvgord Prison: Present Day

Harald: I'm looking for a guide to the Dnieper. One called Kurya.

Harald: I'm taking cargo to Constantinople. I need someone who can get me there. Someone who knows the river well. 

Kurya: I know the Dnieper. I've run it a hundred times.

Harald: If you agree, I can secure your release from here. 

Kurya: So I would be trading a prison sentence for a death sentence.

Harald: What would it take for you to run it again? In-person? 

Kurya: Two coats… 

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‘Kurya!’ I exclaimed, running across the icy snow with all the power my weak legs could muster. My Limbs flailed limply as pins and needles shot through my muscles. 

As soon as his body turned toward me, my front collided with his. Hot tears trailed down my cheeks dampening the crevice of his neck as I desperately buried myself in the warmth of his arms. ‘Ku..K..Kur…I can’t believ…how?’ I mumbled into his neck, my dry lips flaking and crumpling against the fur of his coat. His arms wrapped around mine just as tightly, his fingers boring into my sides. I could feel my body melt into his grip, as if any sense of balance had gone. ‘I need to find her’ I desperately pleaded. ‘I need to find her, I need to find her, I need to find her’. 

His grip unclenched from mine, gently pushing my body to allow him breathing room. ‘Here’ he said, throwing a thick fur around my body, flicking the hood up over my head. His hands trailed down from my head as he firmly grasped my cheeks in the cups of his palms, pressing his forehead against mine. ‘We will find her my friend, I promise you that’ he whispered as he smoothed his thumb over my cold red cheeks. ‘All is not lost, you shall be reunited once more’ he said, placing a comforting kiss on the top of my forehead. ‘My friend, my dear friend, I plan to get you to Constantinople’ he said so matter of factly as if he had the whole thing planned out in his head. ‘It…it’s not that simple’ I cried, tearing down my cheeks. 

Kurya took a calm breath as he rested his hands on my shoulders. ‘I have secured us passage Y/N’ he said, a whisp of excitement in his voice, yet the overriding sense of his tone sounded unsure. ‘We don’t have boat?’ I questioned, my eyes bulging out of their sockets. Whether it was due to disbelief that there was a way to get to Constantinople or for the first time in months I was finally seeing a world that wasn’t a prison cell. ‘It is a slave ship’ he whispered. I could feel my stomach drop, but a different feeling was more overwhelming than the thought of belonging to someone again. A feeling of love so strong, something I never thought I’d feel. 

Love was more powerful than fear. 

‘When do we leave?’ 

‘Right now’ he exclaimed, gesturing his hand toward a large boat that rested on a sleigh. ‘What? Why is it?’ I questioned. ‘Some people do crazy things to achieve their ambitions Y/N’ he said so philosophically. ‘Shall we?’ He exclaimed with a slightly shaking breath. I looked toward the boat, a plank ran from the ground to the ship as two figures walked up and down, loading exquisite furs onto the ship, desperately tying them down for security. A few other figures sat on the boat, looking as unsure as the next person. They certainly didn’t look like slaves. I recognised the fear, the dread, the imminence of doom that loomed so heavily like a cloud.…a feeling that would weigh on someone who had experienced such things before for a lifetime. These people, however, seemed to not harbour such an aura at all. But if it was the only chance of getting me to Constantinople, I was willing. 

I fastened my new coat, adjusting the hood to protectively cover my cold cheeks as the figures loaded their final bulk of fur onto the load. ‘Kurya’ a deep voice yelled from the boat, walking down the plank, and onto the ground. ‘It’s time’ Kurya whispered, as he grasped his hand onto my arm for the first time in months. I walked toward the plank, guiding Kurya alongside. He instinctively reached out his hand, towing his fingers along the surface of the boat, assessing its condition by touch. 

‘Welcome’ that deep voice emitted, holding a hand out as he stood at the edge of the plank. The accent sent a shiver down my spine making my body shake. ‘Are you alright?’ Kurya whispered. I patted the top of his hand that was looped onto my arm. But the feeling of intolerable insecurity still loomed over me. I pushed Kurya forward, placing his hand on the rail of the plank, allowing him to board the boat. ‘Make sure she gets on’ he cheerfully whispered to the man, patting his shoulder as if he were an acquainted friend. The figure nodded, turning around and holding his hand out for me as Kurya walked onto the boat behind him. I stared at his hand for what seemed an age. All I could think about was her. Getting to her. This was the hand that was going to get me to her. 

I shakily reached up placing my twitching palm into his stable steady grip. His other arm reached down, wrapping around my waist, lifting me up onto the plank like I was weightless. My body bumped into his rigid frame slightly as his arm lingered around my waist. I hadn’t realised I had instinctually clutched onto his forearms to support myself. I could feel his hot breath on mine, our breaths misty expelling out in front of our faces creating a fog. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. ‘Ready?’ The voice questioned. I nodded my head, raising my gaze to finally meet that of the kind stranger. 

‘Saxon?’ He whispered.

I could feel the colour from my face drain white. My stomach knotted inside and out. My heart beating so hard, it probably sounded like a drum. My jaw dropped. All I could do was stare. 

Harald stood there, his grip still on me as his face froze in solemn shock. His hair was much longer, and his beard too. Those brown eyes pierced into mine as his mouth hung slightly agape. It felt like an age in that we stood frozen, our eyes never moving from each other. 

‘Y/N?’ Kurya’s voice called as the rest of the boat busied themselves by fastening their items onto the boat. 

My arms limply fell from Harald, his grip stayed securely around my waist where they were before. It was as if a ghost had come back to haunt me, as if this was all a dream. A year. A year since I had woken up in a nobleman's bed in the heart of London, all alone. ‘Y/N?’ Kuryas voice sounded again from the boat. I finally took a step to the side, gripping the railing for dear life. This couldn’t be real…this couldn’t be reality. A year had passed, and Harald Siggurdson was all but a phantom lost in a life that no longer existed. But here he stood, just as perplexed as I was. It took all my strength to turn around, my weight flopped as my legs dragged beneath me, stumbling onto the boat and out of his grip. 

I heavily dropped myself onto the seat next to Kurya. ‘Y/N?’ he questioned, his hand gripping my arm. But as I sat there, unresponsive to his query his pestering intensified. ‘Y/N what is it, I can hear your breathing from here?’ He exclaimed, his lips turned downward in a worried frown, his forehead creasing together. ‘How do you know this man?’ I stuttered, leaning right into his ear to ensure true privacy between us. ‘He needs my guidance to Constantinople, he paid the bail for both of us…by the sound of your voice I am wondering if you have made his acquaintance too by the sound of your worrying…’ he mumbled back concerned. 

‘Kurya…he is the father to my daughter.’

[introverted-imagineer]

Renegades (Part 2)

Warnings: Language, Violence, Religious Themes, Romantic Themes. 

‘You cannot ignore me forever, young one’ he said so philosophically. 

‘Yeah? Well I’ve been doing it for all these years so far’ I snarled back

‘And yet, you end up here, in this unhappy place, you can’t escape fate Y/N, it has come to you’

‘You aren’t real, you are an illusion, a ghost, a figment of my imagination’ I sternly retorted, more to convince myself more than anything.

‘People travel great lengths to find me Y/N, I see all, yet people do all to see me’

‘Then why don’t you go annoy those people’

‘Who are you talking to?’

My body jolted at the sudden interruption, abruptly sitting up to find Leif in the same spot as last night, only standing with a curious and concerned look on his face. ‘Nobody…just myself’ I whispered, burying myself into the blanket. I could sense Leif sitting there, that puzzled look of contemplation on his face. ‘I forgot you were there’ I mumbled, more to myself than Leif. I could hear him smirk at the comment. 

That was a rule when I was young…when he first started to appear. Mother put it down to the side effects of the flu…but his visits became more frequent as I grew older. Frightening as he was, his eyes sewn shut, his lips the colour of liquid tar, pale and hooded like a lost soul in the night. His presence however was never as petrifying as it seemed to others. Although nobody else seemed to be able to see him, my mother shook in her boots whenever she caught me talking to him. ‘You are not well Y/N, there is nobody there’ she would say soothingly, calmly brushing my hair back. Looking back though, I think she was more afraid of me than him. The rule was set in place when it became too frequent and too much for her. Never ever let anyone know anything. 

‘Are you going to kill me now?’ I whispered, my eyes averted to the floor so as to not look him in the eyes. That look of his, so painfully intriguing. It would be less troublesome to keep my eyes averted than to find myself encapsulated in his gaze. I could see his feet freeze in place as his feet pivoted in my direction. ‘I won’t’ he said under his breath to himself as he busied himself by adjusting the axe in his belt. It was comforting, even if he didn’t mean for me to hear, but that only applied to my existence confined within these walls. On the other side…that was a different story. 

‘Am I the only one left?’ I timidly questioned, my only ounce of protection being the blanket I desperately wrapped my body into. He took in a deep breath, one that encapsulated the whole of his body as it heavily moved up and down. He turned around as if offended by the question. ‘Maybe you should just focus on yourself’ he huffed as he reached for the door, slamming it shut behind him. The board jiggled behind him as I could hear the wooden plank slide back into the place where Mother Brynhorn had done before. 

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I hated this place, I hated everything about it. From the windowless rooms that served more as torture chambers, to the mice that scuttled through the gaping holes in the stone-cracked walls, to the daily routine of silence and prayer that made one's knees cripple each day. But most of all, I hated the people. The evil, cruelness that radiated the walls. Christians, they called themselves, a people living truly under God’s rule. 

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

Love, however, did not apply to farm girls who saw things that others could not… 

Outside this existence, I was just a daughter to a humble family. Christian, rural, a child amongst many. The youngest of brothers, a welcome blessing to my mother as she had said. Father had not too much to say on the matter of having a girl, but there was one thing that was undeniably true. Once I was born, my father barely ever touched my mother again. 

‘Danger comes to you my child’ 

‘Didn’t I just tell you to leave me alone’ I snarled as the poltergeist stood in the corner of the room. 

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, looking into my soul through his. He didn’t need eyes, he clearly had something more powerful. But as mother says…it’s not real. 

‘The God’s have sent me to you, it is no choice of mine, nor is it yours’ he murmured in a tone that sends shivers down my spine. 

‘Well you just tell the Go…’ I begun to lecture, before I looked up to see his presence disappear. A piercing screech scraped across the outside of the door making my teeth chatter. The door flung open to reveal Leif stood there, another man by his side watching over. 

‘You must come with me’ he sa himid quietly, a sensation of dread in his voice. I grounded my feet flat on the floor, clutching onto the lumpy mattress as I adamantly shook my head in disagreement. ‘you must’ he said, taking a step forward. I took in a deep gasp as anxiety and panic took over. Whimpers came out as I stuttered, pleading to be left alone. Dying alone in this room of starvation, cold, eaten alive by rats was more desirable than facing the Vikings on the other side of the door…their King in particular whose brief encounter was enough to haunt my dreams forever. I could hear Leif inhale a deep breath, his strong hand then clasping onto my upper arm, prying my body from its place, practically storming out the door and down the corridor. 

My terrified cries of pleas went unnoticed by the Greenlander, his counterparts loitered up and down the corridor, laughing at my cries of distress. Leif however had his gaze fixed upon the task at hand. Taking me to my death. 

I collapsed to the floor with a loud thud, the door to the grand hall slamming shut behind me as Leif took a step back from the large circle of Vikings stood in a circle around the ceremonial throne. My body shook as it collided with the cold wooden floor, my teeth sounding as they slammed together chattering as my chin shook. My state of despair was pleasing to the Vikings as they roared in laughter, downing sacramental wine as if it were water. A muffled shout sounded from the ceremonial throne. I slowly looked up to find Elder Aefentid tied to the seat, his mouth gagged by the ropes that usually rested around his waist. His look mirrored my petrified state.

‘Well, I didn’t expect to see you here young one’ that deep haunting voice taunted. The Vikings in the room went silent, standing to attention as the doors to the hall slammed shut. Every eye in the room was fixated on the man behind me. I kept my head down. 

His footsteps loud, paced forward incredibly slowly, coming closer and closer to me as I sat knelt on the floor with my eyes glued to the floor. I body jolted as a gentle brush of fingers danced on my head. His thick finger swirled the locks on top of my head, wrapping them around his finger. ‘And yet, here you are’ he noted, as if it were a grand performance. His body slammed to the ground, as he knelt next to me, clutching my neck within his palm, forcing me to look at Elder Aefentid. His petrified eyes looked back at mine. I let out a wail, letting out a deep cry. The King chuckled to himself, wrapping his other arm around my body, pulling my body into his embrace as he placed his lips upon my temple. ‘Shush, shush, shush’ he cried, performing to the spectators around him. His cruelness not escaping me. His grasp around my throat slightly tightened threateningly. ‘Tell us child, who is the man in the chair?’ He beseeched. Hot tears fell down my cheek as I tried to shake my head, but the King's hand held onto my neck rigidly, trapping my face where it was. His clutch tightened even more, stopping the already weak airflow from travelling to my lungs. ‘I will ask you again, who is the man in that chair?’

‘E..El…Elder Aefentid’ I choked out in a whisper. The King shook his head, his eyes averted to the ground, dissatisfied with the answer to the question he so desperately sought. ‘He is the leader here’ I whispered. The King's demeanour changed from one of dissatisfaction to genuine pleasure as his mouth broke into a grin, a deep laugh emitting from his stomach. The King stood from the floor, his hand unclasping from my throat, using my head to hoist his balance from the ground. The Vikings around him joined in with his laughter as the King paraded around the circle. ‘THIS MAN, A LEADER!’ He cried to his subjects. Their roars of laughter emitting even louder. However one stood apart from all the others, quiet, stone-faced, impassive. Leif Erikkson stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Canute walked up to the constricted man in the ceremonial throne. Elder Aefentid, yesterday a powerful malicious leader, today a prisoner in his own home. The King mockingly ripped the rope from Elder Aefentid’s mouth, his neck whiplashing at the speed and strength which he did. 

‘YOU VIKING SCUM, GOD WILL SEE TO IT YOU ALL ROT IN THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF HELL’ he screamed, his throat slightly raspy in his delivery. The Viking King rounded the throne, looking undeterred by his verbal assault. The King stood there, leaning against the side of the throne, his arm extending, pointing his finger directly at me. ‘You speak old Norse, tell me what your leader said’ emphasising the term leader in a tone of disparagement. I could feel my jaw drop from beneath me, while my muscles clenched and my throat closed. ‘What. Did. He. Say?’ He demanded, taking a step forward between each word toward me. 

‘He urges you to seek Christ’ I retorted. The King seemed sinisterly pleased. ‘THIS MAN CLAIMS TO SERVE GOD’ he cried to the Vikings. This seemed to spark a different response. Instead of a roar of laughter, the Vikings responded in anger, grunting and yelling. The King walked toward Aefentid, reaching into his shirt, and pulling out a bejewelled crucifix tied to his neck. I could swear his eyes popped out of his skull at the thought of Christian Vikings. The King chuckled at Aefentid. ‘KING ÆTHELRED WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS’ he cried. 

At his threat, his attention was captured by everyone in the room, even Leif Erikson directed his gaze toward the bound man. ‘Æthelred’ The Viking King repeated, lowering his gaze to look directly into his prisoner's eyes. ‘What did he say child?’ His voice called, not breaking contact with Aefentid as they stared at one another. ‘H..he says the King will seek justice…’ I stuttered out. ‘FILTHY LITTLE VIKING BITCH’ Elder Aefentid cried, leaning to the side in order to catch my gaze, making sure his words penetrated my very soul. The Viking King turned around, all eyes in the room now directed at me as I sat on the ground in the middle of the room. ‘And?’ The Viking King questioned, his hands gesturing toward me. ‘He is displeased with me’ I whispered. 

The Viking King simply nodded, standing back up to his tall figure, grasping the rope from the ground, and shoving it violently back into Elder Aefentid’s mouth. ‘While I am displeased myself…’ he spoke, directing his gaze between Leif and me, his disappointment more directed at Leif. ‘Your speaking our language is very….opportune’ he said, scheming as he spoke. I could see out the corner of my eye Leif’s chest rise and fall deeply, whether it was out of relief or frustration I didn’t know. ‘Your life will be spared for now, you will spend your days helping me …refine my knowledge of the saxon language’ he said, wiggling his finger satisfied with his cunning plan. ‘But if you should be unsuccessful, or deceitful, you will suffer a fate worse than death’. His plan struck me to my core, I was a farmer's daughter, now a postulant, now a teacher to a Viking King. Which of the three was worse, I couldn’t be sure, but I was terrified at the thought of spending my days alone with the Viking King.  Elder Aefentid continued to scream profanities and muffled screams at the occupants of the room, but his cries went unnoticed by the Vikings as they busied themselves. Behind the throne, out of nowhere, he appeared again. The hooded figure stood solemnly beside the throne, unnoticed to everyone else, nodding his head at me. 

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A new beginning had dawned on the Monastery. I was so used to silence, that even the sounds of people talking outside in the corridor put me on edge. I had not seen any of the sisters or brothers since Elder Aefentid sat in his mighty chair, only he was puny. 

I spent the days confined to my tiny windowless room. When the King demanded it, I was escorted to the Monks Library where the King required me to translate words, and passages and teach him to communicate in the Saxon language. So far, it had been fine, but The Viking King, Canute, made sure I knew what was at stake. He was always armed and made it known he had no issues punishing his property. I was still a servant, a prisoner, the only thing different being the man who demanded everything. 

It seemed an age the since the Vikings had first come. Some days it seemed there were more, other days less. The Viking’s clearly weren’t here for a sabbatical, nor to raid. The Monastery seemed however, a convenient stop in their greater plans. As time went on, their faces became more familiar. Sometimes they’d leave as a group for days, others would go individually. Leif Erikson seemed to have disappeared altogether…  

While King Canute had demanded I help him refine his knowledge of the Saxon language, from our first private meeting it seemed clear that he didn’t really need all that much help. His intention was unclear, but there was something sinister about his presence as if he were probing for something more valuable than language. As each session went by, the King was more curious about concerns of the Monastery, the fields around, and why nobody else seemed to live anywhere near here…how often travellers came through. I spent more time answering questions than I did teaching him anything. 

The King sat concentrating as he studied the symbols and texts of parchment that the Monks spent their days so delicately scribing. 

‘Tell me child, what is the relationship between your leader and King ÆTthelred?’ He asked cautiously. ‘I don’t know, the sisters aren’t allowed to converse with the brothers’ I muttered. The King turned around, coming back to sit at the grand table in the middle of the library. ‘What is your connection with the Saxon King?’ He probed. I almost wanted to chuckle at the absurdity of his question. ‘I don’t understand?’ I whispered, my shoulders tensing as his nostrils flared in an unsatisfied manner. ‘I mean, do you work for the King?’ He said, reaching his hand across the table, clutching my wrist and squeezing it tightly. I could feel the blood flow to my wrist stop, my wrist turning pale under Canute’s clutch. ‘He comes here for communion and spiritual cleansing occasionally…only the Monks have been in his presence’. His grip loosened, but the clutch on my wrist remained. ‘The Queen comes sometimes too, but only Mother Brynhorn is permitted to speak with her’ I exclaimed. ‘Who is his Queen?’ He questioned, his grip tightening again, cramping my hand. My fingers curled into themselves, rigid and stiff at the pain. ‘Queen Emma of Normandy’ I seethed out in pain between clenched teeth. 

His grip released as he smiled pleasingly to himself. ‘Normandy was founded by Vikings, did you know?’ He said more as a statement rather than a question. I shook my head. The truth was, I did know this as Elder Aefentid had cast cruel words at the Queen, but keeping this information withheld was likely to stop more questions and threats from King Canute. The King shot up from his seat, pushing the chair across the room behind him. 

The door slightly opened, and a familiar face crept in. As our gazes connected, it was evident the shock upon my face, as his at mine. Since the grand hall, Leif Erikson had seemingly disappeared.  Our concentrated stares were broken by Canute rising from his seat at the table. I stood to attention as the King’s chair scooted against the floor with a loud scrape. 

 ‘Ah, Leif Erikson, just in time, please take the prisoner back to her room’. 

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Leif Erikson spared no mercy in escorting me back to my small room. His hand clutched my arm as he strode two paces ahead of me as he walked down the corridor, dragging me alongside him. He constantly clutched the hilt of the axe on his belt. 

When we arrived at the boarding wing, Leif roughly opened the door, taking a look around to see the Vikings still watching him. He thrust me forward, shoving me onto the lumpy mattress. A few of the Vikings stood watching, chuckling to themselves as they prompted his vulgarity. ‘Good luck with that one Greenlander’ they called, lifting their goblets in a cheers motion, throwing a surreptitious suggestive wink in his direction. I could feel my heart beating fast, their euphemism did not escape me.   The Greenlander nodded his head, stepping into the room cautiously, and closing the door behind him. 

I scurried back on my hands, retreating into the corner of the room, clutching the bottom of my skirt so as to somehow create an extra layer between us. Leif took a deep breath, his eyes glancing up and down at me. His eyes captured mine, but his face showed no emotion. I could feel my body shake. He gently reached down, undoing the belt that sat around his waist, loosening it, and untying it slowly string by string until it came off. ‘P…please no….I….I….I’ve never’ I stammered. He lifted his eyebrow quizzically. As he took a step forward, I let out a yelp, closed my eyes, and cradled myself in a protective state. The end of the bed dipped as he sat down on the edge, he let out a loud sigh as a rustling noise emitted. I sat there, cradled into myself waiting for him to pounce, lay his hands on me, or even say something. But it was just silence. 

His hair was tasselled and knotted, coming out of the bun I remembered it had been in before. His face was smeared with dried mud that cracked on his forehead, indicating a level of stress as his brows creased. His clothes were uncomfortably damp, chafing against his body. His gaze locked to the floor, seemingly defeated, yet relieved at the same time.  

We sat silently, I sat there looking at him trying to piece the puzzle together of how he ended up in such a state. It had been weeks since I had seen the Greenlander, as Canute constantly referred to him as. He sat there, his elbows leaning on his legs, sitting there, solemnly content in the silence. ‘Leif’ I whispered, being careful not to move nor startle him as he sat silently in a meditative state. He let out a grunt, shaking his head slowly as if to say please. 

‘I wouldn’t do that to you’ he whispered, wiping his sleeve across his nose as his neck dropped further down. 

He sat in silence for longer, the room becoming darker as the sun set outside. I gently got up from the bed, circling in front of him, kneeling on the floor between his legs. Up close, his face was one of utter exhaust. His eyelids dropped as he tried to hold his eyes open. He could barely acknowledge my presence as he sat there, his body swaying as if it were about to buckle beneath him. I gently reached up to the collar of his damp coat, gently untying the strings, trailing down his chest until the fasteners were undone. He sat there rigidly, not saying a word, not making a move. I gently ran my palms under the fabric of the coat, my hands pressed against his solid, large shoulders. I pushed against them, almost revelling in the feeling of the sheer tightness of his skin. I ran my palms down his arms, sliding the coat off his body, gently peeling it from him. His shirt underneath, although still intact, was ripped and muddied. Whatever activity Leif Erikson had been up to, it wasn’t a leisurely trip. His arms limply fell from their resting place on his thighs as he allowed me to slide the wet coat off his arms, freeing him from the constricting material. His chin tilted only slightly, enough for our gaze to connect again through his drooping eyelids. 

Nothing needed to be said though, his exhaustion was clear. I gently grasped onto his shoulders again, pushing him down into a laying position on the mattress. He let out a gentle sigh of relief, grateful for even the comfort of the world's lumpiest old mattress. I grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed, draping it carefully over his body. 

By the time the blanket had draped over him, Leif Erikson was solemn in slumber. 

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‘Y/N you’re sick, you need help’ my mother pleaded with teary eyes. 

‘You promised it wouldn’t come to this, you swore we’d never tell’ I screamed back, scuttling along the floor and gazing up and my mother in fear. 

‘I couldn’t keep it from him, he saw you, this is the best thing for you’ she breathlessly exclaimed, crawling toward me pleading. 

‘It’s time to go Y/N’ My father sounded from the other end of the room sternly.

‘Please…Please don’t do this, it doesn’t need to be like this’ I screamed. But he stood there, firmly in place, firm in his hand, firm in his decision. 

‘They are already here Y/N, you are going’ he said sternly, stiff in his body language as if to say this conversation was annoying more than anything.

I could feel my head hit the back of the wall, there being nowhere else to escape to. 

‘She’s in here Father’ he called, turning around to greet those once strange eyes, but now so familiar. ‘Elder Aefentid, we are so grateful, our daughter needs more help than we can give her’. My father's tone changed so matter of factly as if he were a helpless man trying so hard to help his daughter. I couldn’t help but feel this was all too convenient for him. In his clutches, Elder Aefentid stood in the room, a bible in his clutch, a crucifix held firmly in his grasp. 

‘Do you see him now child?’ Elder Aefentid questioned as he cautiously tip-toed into the room. Of course, I could, he hadn’t left all day, only stood there warning me that my fate was to unfold. I shook my head ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about father…’ I whispered through teary cries. 

‘DO YOU SEE HIM NOW CHILD?’ He screamed. 

‘Y/N’ 

I bolted up with a scream. I could feel my limbs unstick from one another as the feeling of cold sweat engulfed my body. The room was black, the floor cold beneath me, the only break of light coming from a single candle. The orange hue gently lit the face of Leif as he sat on the bed, his eyes full of unease. 

‘You were yelling’ he said matter of factly, his tone clearly masking confusion. ‘I wasn’t yelling?’ I said questioningly, but I had known this to happen before. ‘You were yelling’ he said again in a much calmer tone, the light flickering in front of his face. I took in a deep breath, taking in every crevice of his face, the way his jaw chiselled, tensing and relaxing as his throat bobbled as he took in a deep gulp.  I nodded curtly, as if to say I know, but I don’t want to know. 

Leif sat on the bed, his legs over the side as he sat at the head of the bed. ‘How did I get here?’ He solemnly questioned, grazing his fingers over the mattress as the blanket lay gently across his lap. ‘You tell me, you were awfully tired’ I whispered back, shrugging my shoulders as he looked down at my place on the floor. There was something intense about his gaze, the way his eyes flickered up and down my body, a sense of curiosity and uncertainty as we sat between the flickering of orange. It was improper for me to be alone in here with him, but knowing there were plenty more Vikings on the other side of the door, I can’t lie in saying I wasn’t grateful for Leif’s presence. 

His demeanour changed as he directed his gaze back to the floor, uncomfortable with the obvious query that loomed over us both. Where had Leif Erikson been all this time? Whether the details really mattered, but why he had come back, that was the mystery. 

‘I will leave’ he whispered gingerly, slowly playing with the loose thread of the blanket that draped over him. His movements were slow, unwilling. When he rose from the bed his knees cracked beneath him, a gentle seethe of pain emitted from his teeth. ‘You’re hurt’ I breathed, getting up abruptly to steady his frame as his legs slightly wobbled beneath him. ‘I am fine’ he said as he stiffly straightened his rigid back, that cracking as well. ‘Just stay’ I whispered abruptly as I grabbed onto his biceps. As I stood there, only the smallest gap between us, his body towered over mine, his head dropped naturally as I looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes flickered, as mine did his. An eeriness of caution, waiting for the other to do something. But one thing was clear, I wasn’t willing to move, nor was he. ‘I um…’ I stuttered, as my fingers seemed to linger onto his skin much longer than was friendly. 

*SLAM*

My palm flew to my face as I let out a shriek, my body jumping in fright at the sound of a pound against the door. Leif Erikson didn’t seem to even startle. My hands flew from him as I took a step away. The murmur of slurred singing in old norse could be heard as metal clanged against one another. Leif strode toward the door, poking his head out as I silently shook in my shoes, awaiting whatever the Vikings were doing. He silently closed the door, pressing a finger to his lips as he turned toward me. ‘Too much mead tends to bring out the lively side of Vikings’ he whispered in amusement. His smile seemed suppressed as he let out a long breath through his nostrils. I smiled back gently, tilting my lips just enough to show I appreciated his attempt at humour in my state of scare. 

‘Maybe I should…’ he trailed. I simply nodded. ‘I would appreciate it’ I said. Leif quietly untied the fasteners of his belt, letting the tight fabric fall to the floor. I gently sat down at the end of the bed as he uncertainly took a seat at its head. The light flickered in the pitch-black room, only offering glimpses of one another. 

I could feel a tingle deep within my stomach. My brain was telling me all the things I should know. This is improper, this is immoral, this is a disaster waiting to happen, and God will punish me. But something deep within my body shook, an urge I couldn’t shake. Like a roaring fire in my stomach that set my heart alight. I could feel the rhythmic pounding of my heartbeat turn to pulsate so strongly that radiated down my torso all the way down to my legs. I squeezed my thighs together, a poor attempt to suppress that pulsated between my legs. I could sense a tenseness as the blanket shifted beneath me. I glanced down to find Leif’s fingers nervously digging into the bed. My body involuntarily shivered as if something shot down my spine. ‘You are cold?’ He whispered, breaking the tense silence that encapsulated the room. ‘A little’ I whispered back, digging into the blanket with my fingers. Leif reached down to the ground and grabbed his coat, only to let out a dissatisfied breath. ‘It’s still wet sorry’ he said defeatedly. 

The room retreated into silence again, the only sound emitting being a gentle sizzle of the flame as it burnt the candle. The feeling of desire was uncomfortable, but the obvious silence of awkwardness was unbearable. I gently grabbed the blanket from Leif’s side, draping it over both our laps as a symbol of peace. Leif seemed taken aback but relieved at the notion of not having to sleep on the floor. 

The mattress was thin, our arms and legs pressed against one another tightly as the width of our bodies overcrowded the tiny bed. I could hear Leif breathing, as he could probably hear mine. Just as short and nervous as each other. 

‘There is no need for any more nightmares Y/N…nobody is here but us’ he solemnly whispered. I could feel the tears prickling in my eyes. The sincerity in his voice had a gentle shake to it as if he was nervous but his desire to say it was more important than the thought of making a fool of himself. It was as if another entity had taken over my body, without thought, fear, or contemplation I felt my hand reaching down beneath the blanket, scuttling underneath the surface blindly until my fingers finally found what they were looking for. 

As cautiously as my shaking fingers were, our fingers entwined loosely, as if neither of us was certain that this was okay or not. But even in their loose entwined grip, neither of our hands moved until sleep took over. 

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[introverted-imagineer]

oh my gosh I just binge read the Harald Sigurdsson series, why did Harald leave?

In the show Harald goes back to Kattegat after the Vikings take Wessex~I want to stay as true to the series as I can. But for some comfort to those and others possibly looking out, I have just finished season 2 and the story is far from over so keep a look out 😉

(P.S. Thanks for reading)

[introverted-imagineer]

A Return to Nowhere

Part 15

Warnings: Smutty themes, violence, themes of slavery, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage. Please proceed with caution and take care of your well-being first.

Author Note: I'm so sorry for the delay! I'm so grateful for all the positive responses to the series, so I really hope everyone enjoys this next chapter (and have been hopefully enjoying Vikings Valhalla Season 2!) I hope this story has been giving people an escape as reading and writing does me! The last thing I do this for is remuneration, I do this because I enjoy it, but I do have tipping enabled if anyone wants to show support that way as it really helps. But as an aspiring writer, the amazing interaction I've had with this story is something I never thought I'd achieve in my life. So from the bottom of my heart, Thank you, forever and always.

-The Introverted Imagineer

Vulnerable. I was vulnerable before, but now I was vulnerable and exposed. Waking up in a nobleman's bed didn’t mean you were anything special. I had seen plenty of men and women retreating from the royal chambers, only to return to cleaning horse shit. 

The chambermaid exited the room, her gaze indicative of repugnance at the sight of my bare skin beneath the furs of a Vikings bed. My stomach was in knots, a daze of confusion, the slight tingling pressure between my legs as the sensations from last night still had an effect. I stood from the bed, the furs draping off of me. It felt like a weird state of hallucination. One night before, I was something of worth to Harald Sigurdsson. Even if I was technically still a thrall. Last night, his passion, his instincts…his body, for once was all at the mercy of my needs. An act so sacred, people had been outcast, defiled, and even killed for an act so seemingly natural between two people. Maybe I was the fool in this instance…this wasn’t an act between two people. It was an act between a slave and their master. 

I quickly changed into the clean clothes that lay on the chair. Even though they were clean, exquisite in colour and material, chosen specifically for me and only me, it was still just a uniform chosen to parade me as a pawn in a larger game. That’s all this was to that treacherous human being. I started with little, and now he’s left me with nothing. What was I supposed to do now? 

The morning light shone through the window, contradictory to the raging storm that had come over London previously. It was deceitful as it gave the illusion that everything was just fine. The truth was…everything was now disastrous. The people of London would wake to a new ruler, one they never would have anticipated. Most shockingly, a new dawn happened right under their noses as they slept. King Edmund…now King Canute. I paced the room back and forth, there was no way to make sense of nor navigate this new dawn upon us all. This room, if I opened the door and left change would be thrust upon me as a new King reigned, but if I stayed it would eventually come to me. Was I going to walk into it, or let it destroy me? 

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The footsteps that cascaded down the hallway were timid and sparse. What was usually calculated, deliberate, purposeful and concrete were now ambivalent as the court that had routinely served the House of Wessex now questioned their every move. Even in this grand stature, this place of God, no Viking was ever going to contend with their morals. A Viking got what a Viking wanted…something I had learnt the hard way. 

I grabbed one of the furs from the bed, folding it neatly and carrying it towards the large oak door. At least in appearance, I could pass as a chambermaid while investigating the state of the castle and its new inhabitants. I carefully closed the door behind me silently, as a show as if to not disturb or wake the invisible inhabitant of the room. If I looked as though I was tending to someone, I should be able to avoid harassment or judgement. If there's one thing the Vikings valued, it was loyalty. 

I paced quickly down the corridor, my eyesight directed downward. A good servant should be invisible to the eye. As I turned the corner, two figures stood conversing deeply. I took a step back, attempting to round the corner, but my sleuth-like attempt did not go unnoticed. ‘You’ a firm voice commanded. I lifted my gaze to find myself in the presence of Queen Emma herself. I took in a deep breath. It wasn’t that I was ungraceful or unprepared in the presence of royalty. It was that being Queen Emma herself, it was as if the encounter with the Vikings, as if Saint Brices Day had never occurred. Queen Emma was a constant, the Vikings, King Canute, Harald Sigurdsson…as if it were all just a dream. I quickly bent down into a deep curtsey, but she seemed unsatisfied by this as if it meant nothing to her. ‘Come here, child’ she instructed her hand gently waving in a come to me motion. I placed the fur on the windowsill, brushing non-existent dirt off my clean smock as I approached the Queen. 

‘Your Majesty’ I greeted, my gaze thrust to the floor. Her long slender fingers came up, grazing her fingers upon my cheek, before lifting my chin, forcing my gaze to meet hers. She studied my features, a puzzled look on her face. She tentatively tucked the strands of my Y/C hair behind my ear, skimming the scar on my cheek. ‘Yes, I thought I recognised you’ she spoke, more to herself than to me. Her finger stayed there on my cheek as she reverted her attention back to her companion. I followed her gaze, surprised to see Mathilda staring right back at me. ‘What is your name child?’ She asked, looking back at me. ‘Y/N your majesty’ I whispered back quietly. I could feel my stomach quivering with nerves. ‘Tell me Y/N did you aid the Vikings in coming to this place?’ She asked. It felt as if her eyes were looking directly into my soul. I could feel my stomach now churning as I took a deep gulp to stop myself from vomiting. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her eyebrow peaked at the stuttered flow of raspy air that exhaled from my mouth. 

‘It was me, your majesty’ Mathilda exclaimed. I could feel the colour drain from my face as Queen Emma directed her gaze back to Mathilda, her lips pursed. Her fingers released from my face, her sharp carefully manicured nail gently swiping my skin as her hand dropped to her side. She took in a deep breath. I could feel myself shrinking on the spot. Why was she taking the blame? All I feared, all the guilt that had eaten me up, only for Mathilda to ultimately take the fall? 

I eyed Mathilda, my eyes bulging almost out of my head as my heart beat like a drum. I silently choked on the contents of my stomach that threatened to spew. The Queen intently stepped toward Mathilda. ‘Is this true Y/N?’ She asked, her gaze still directed at Mathilda. I could feel my knees buckle beneath me as fear took over. I was frozen. ‘Your majesty, in exchange for both your life and ours only.’ Mathilda pleaded, a tear falling down her cheek. The Queen craned her neck toward me, her body still facing Mathilda. I simply nodded, directing my gaze shamefully to the floor. The Queen turned back toward Mathilda, raising her thumb and gently swiping the tear away. 

‘Come ladies’ the Queen gently spoke as she whisked away, her grand dress sweeping along after her. 

Across the castle grounds, the Viking inhabitants seemed to respect the Saxon queen, nodding their heads as she swept past them, Mathilda and I in tow. She strutted, her head held high, completely undisturbed by the palpable changes within the castle grounds. What was once uniformed men standing guard, men training in the courtyard square with wooden pillars, was now brute mismatched Vikings threateningly sharpening their weapons, mercilessly engaging in full combat with one another. 

Across the castle grounds, the Queen approached the doors to the royal chapel. She strode up to the doors, opening the heavy oak as she waltz confidently into the room. The room was lit up by candles, a scent of gardenia wafting across my senses. At the end of the room stood a clergyman dressed in his finest robes, his thick, gold-bound bible in hand. To one side of the room, a few recognisable Vikings stood, clean, prim and proper. I recognised them as Canute’s closest advisors. As Mathilda and I stood at the back of the room, uncertain of the scene in front of us, the clergyman looked at us, pointing his hand as to usher us to the front of the room. ‘Thank you Ladies’ Queen Emma whispered, granting us permission to enter the chapel and stand on the opposite side by the antique pews. A man stood at the front of the room, his back facing the small group, his attention focused on the clergyman. Queen Emma slowly strode toward the altar, beside the unidentifiable man. 

‘Let us pray’ the clergyman announced to the entire room. Everyone bowed their heads obediently. ‘Bless us, oh Lord, for today we pray for this new beginning. For on this morn, a new era arises one that is unified in Christ, in sanctity, in rule and sovereignty, and for this blessed union’. I whipped my head up in shock. Union? I questioned, eyeing the rest of the small group still concentrated in prayer as the voice of the clergyman eluded me. I turned my gaze to Mathilda to find her face just as shocked as mine, however, her face was pale, and her hands shook. I reverted my attention back to the altar as voices cast an ‘amen’ across the room. The Queen turned, as did the mysterious figure as they joined hands. I felt Mathilda’s hand grip my wrist tightly. The man gently turned his face, casting a glance at the small party in attendance. King Canute. 

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The service was quick, simple and short. A union so rash and quick…there was more to this wedding than love. This was a political manoeuvre. 

The Clergyman ushered Mathilda and me to follow the newlywed couple, as we followed them into the small parish tower attached to the chapel. The room was completely lit by hundreds of candles, as the curtains were drawn to stop the natural light from entering the small space. A grand bed frame stood with sheer curtains adorned. Furs and fluffy feather-stuffed pillows adorned the meticulously kept room. There was something so sexy yet sinister about the space amongst us. The clergyman offered another prayer that completely alluded to me at the shock of what we were about to witness. The bedding ceremony. 

King Canute and Queen Emma seemed absolutely ravished in one another…almost as though this was not their first rendezvous. The sheer curtains that gave the couple an illusion of privacy did not escape our notice as their figures entangled with one another. The moans and groans were explicit and unashamed. I could feel my insides shaking as my thoughts cast back to the night before. My own experience with Harald Sigurdsson was seemingly just as passionate as the feeling I was witnessing between Emma and Canute. Mathilda stood with her head down, her chin wobbling beneath as silent tears crept down her chin, landing silently on the floor. 

I reached for her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Even though her hand clutched mine back, she seemed to barely comprehend anything. 

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The room was just as it was before. The fur still draped on the ground, the candle wax melted on the antique chest of draws, the same bath water from last night, the other side of the bed empty. I sat on the side of the bed, gently grazing my fingers over the indented pillow where Harald’s head had laid. I could smell his scent on the silk. It remained untouched…but now it felt cursed. What was an intimate space last night, was now an emotional wasteland. Similar to Mathilda, it felt like we were once everything, and now nothing. 

The door squeaked as Mathilda squeezed through the door, pacing into the room. ‘We’re going’ she whispered with urgency, pacing around the room as she grabbed the thick fur from the floor where I had left it this morning. ‘Going where?’ I asked, almost rhetorically. ‘We’re going home’ she said between sniffles, wiping her hand over her nose. I laughed in response, her head shot up. Her face said it all. She was dead serious. ‘And where’s home exactly?’ I sneered back. ‘Kattegat’ she responded, her eyes locked on mine. I stood up and paced toward her, putting my hands on her shoulders as a poor attempt at comfort. ‘Kattegat is not your home Mathilda’ I said, almost pleading with her. ‘Kattegat was never home, people like us don’t have homes, we just exist’ I said, trying to catch her gaze as she searched the room. ‘MATHILDA’ I shouted only to have her muffle my mouth with her palm as she desperately shooshed me. ‘There are people here, in the castle, they are leaving at nightfall and they are willing to take us’. I shook my head, trying to calm her in her hurry, but she was determined with whatever loose plan she had. ‘What happens when King Canute returns to Kattegat, only to find his deserted property there?’ I questioned madly. ‘We are not property Y/N’ she sternly retorted with force. I was taken aback, shocked but impressed with her newfound courage. But her plan was still nonsensical. ‘Mathilda, Queen Emma is now married to the Viking King, she likes us…we have protection under her majes…’ 

‘I’m with child’ she interrupted. I stared at her, too stunned to process the information she had just laid upon me. ‘W…who’s the father?’ I stuttered, already knowing the answer. ‘The Queen’s husband’ she whispered, her chin wobbling as the tears began to fall. I quickly gathered her in my arms, holding her as she desperately clutched at the fabric of my dress, quivering in my hold. ‘Well…Vikings have many wives’ I tried, desperately searching for any information that might make this complicated news any easier to process. ‘He doesn’t know, he doesn’t need to know’ she pleaded into my shoulder, clutching tighter with each word. I knew it was the logical thing. Queen Emma loved Mathilda as a servant in her court…there was no way she would love her as another bride of King Canute. 

‘I’m not going back to Kattegat’ I whispered, stroking her hair in comfort. ‘He said he can’t promise Kattegat, but anywhere is better than here’ she said as she pulled away from my grasp. ‘Just prepare yourself for a long boat journey ahead’ she said, retreating out of the room with a desperate pace in her step. I paced the room, taken aback at the news, but the prospect of escaping King Canute’s clutches. To possibly leave this life behind once and for all. 

I started pulling the draws apart, looking for anything. 

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The moon was yellow and full, the night silent and dark as I paced around the room, waiting for Mathilda. We hadn’t spoken since the earlier hours when she broke the news of escape. In a fur wrapped up I had found a spare cream underdress, two exquisitely crafted silver candlestick holders, one half-used bar of soap, and a small knife. 

The corridor had been silent until a loud bang echoed down the corridor. Maybe it was a sign? I took a deep breath as my body shook with adrenaline. Now or never I thought. I grabbed the makeshift sack, clutching it tightly against my body. I quietly opened the door to find the corridor completely empty. So I went for it. I quietly paced down the hall, staying close to the stone wall to guide and shield my body. 

As I scaled against the wall, a silent cry emitted from around the corner. I froze, pressing my body up against the wall as the cries turned to muffled shrieks. I peeked my head around the corner to find Mathilda on the ground. I almost dropped my belongings, running to her to find her lip split, and her left eye completely swollen. As I bent down onto the ground in front of her, a warm liquid drenched my dress. A pool of blood flowed from between her legs. ‘Mathilda’ I shrieked in horror. She grasped onto me, clutching at me in desperation. ‘Go without me’ she pleaded quietly in a whisper. I shook my head. ‘Did you do this to yourself, Mathilda?’ I asked, staring at the blood that stained her skirt and coated the floor beneath her. She sucked in a breath, snot flowing out her nose as she desperately shook her head. ‘I don’t know how, but he knew…he knew Y/N’ she pleaded as if I wouldn’t believe her. But I squeezed her arms back in a comforting manner to show her that I did. ‘Did he do this?’ I asked. She didn’t need to respond, the look on her face said it all. 

‘Go Y/N, he’s waiting by the grand hall’ she whispered. ‘Not without you I said, quickly gathering my blood-stained dress beneath me, and sprinting toward the designated area. 

Lit by flickering candles, a man stood leant against the large oak doors, impatiently chewing his nails. His attention soon turned as he saw me coming down the hall. ‘You with the other girl?’ He asked inquisitively. I hadn’t seen this man before, but his thick foreign accent indicated he had likely travelled with the rest of the Viking army. ’Yes, but I need help’ I pleaded. He pursed his lips, turning his attention back to his chewed-up nail bed. ‘I don’t do anything for free’ he chimed, his voice going up an octave. ‘I have two candlestick holders, right from one of the royal chambers, pure silver, both yours if you help me’ I spluttered. His gaze shifted from his fingers to me, his eyebrow raised as he inspected my body. ‘Lead the way’ he said, pushing himself off the wall. 

Mathilda was still where we left her, silently crying to herself. She raised her eyes wearily, relieved at the sight of us both. She was probably expecting something worse. ‘Why’s there so much blood?’ The man questioned loudly, as Mathilda and I both simultaneously shushed him. ‘Grab her’ I demanded, gathering my makeshift sack and the small pouch Mathilda had by her side. ‘Not without payment’ he demanded. 

I violently thrust the candlestick holders into his chest as he took a step back at the impact. He raised the silver to his eyes, inspecting the piece before satisfyingly tucking them into his pocket. He bent down to the ground, picking Mathilda up bridal style with ease. 

We rushed out to the courtyard, rounding the castle walls. ‘Wait, the bridge was destroyed, how are we to get out of here?’ I whispered in a panic. ‘Follow me foolish child’ he sneered back comically. He paced across the courtyard, Mathilda within his grasp as if she weighed nothing. ‘There's always another way’ he lectured as he rounded the chapel and parish tower. ‘SHHH,’ I spluttered, likely spitting on the back of his neck. ‘The King and Queen are in there’ I whispered, pointing at the parish tower. He stood still, shocked at the news, but didn’t hesitate to carry on forward. I followed him as he tiptoed across the loose gravel, desperately trying to not disturb, nor alert the newlywed couple on the other side of the wall. 

Behind the wall, the man pushed aside a large branch that hung low from the tree, rustling the leaves. I could feel my stomach drop at the sound of the cracking branch. But behind the branch, a stone archway stood, on the other side, a path led down the bank, to the shoreline of the surrounding waters. 

‘Payment here, now’ he demanded, placing Mathilda on the ground, holding her waist so that she did not fall. ‘I already paid you’ I hissed back. He shook his head, both in amusement and frustration. ‘You paid me to help your friend, you haven’t paid me for your passage yet’. Mathilda looked confused. Clearly she wasn’t briefed on the payment earlier. I reached into my fur, and pulled out the small knife, holding it out for inspection. Mathilda pulled out a silver bracelet. The man laughed pitifully. ‘I’m giving you passage across the sea, not to the other side of what was the bridge’ he sneered condescendingly. ‘Well, what do you want?’ I pleaded desperately. He crossed his arms, looking me straight in the eye as he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Whatever it is, you better get it fast’ he said, turning his attention back to his chewed nails. 

I silently crept back toward the courtyard, desperately looking for anything. It was too risky to go back into the castle, it was too far to go to the stables. I turned around, facing the chapel doors that were sealed shut. 

Fuck. 

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The chapel doors opened relatively quietly as I squeezed through the small gap and into the room. Next door, the bedding chamber, with the King and Queen, probably in silent sleep. I took a step forward, holding my breath in an attempt to not disturb the creaky old floor. I looked around the room, searching desperately for anything. There were more silver candlestick holders, but one wrong move and they would clang together. The holy grail which the clergyman used to dispense the sacramental wine to the royals had been taken into the chamber for the bedding ceremony. It was way too risky to go in there. I crept forward, my eyes scanning the room for anything. Then it was obvious. Sat upon the pulpit, the large hefty bible embroidered with gold thread and inscribed by the most gifted of Monks. It sat there open on the pulpit where it had been left from the intimate ceremony earlier. 

I approached the pulpit, raising my foot as the step beneath me squeaked. I froze, struck with fear and silence. You can do this Y/N I desperately repeated to myself. I took the next step, the step squeaking even louder. I closed my eyes. I wasn’t a faithful or spiritual person, but even at this moment, I was desperate enough to pray for a miracle. I reached for the book, lifting the heavy book with a struggle. The open page slammed shut, with a loud deafening thud. Shit.

I extended my legs painfully wide, as I skipped the steps up the pulpit, landing straight back on the floor. The sound of footsteps sounded from the chamber next door. My breath palpitating, my heart feeling on the verge of explosion, I paced to the door, throwing myself to the wall behind the door just as it gently crept open. The door creaked open as the naked King took a step out. His pale skin shone in the moonlight as it crept through the chapel windows. He inspected the room around, looking for the source of the noise. I stayed frozen in place, the heavy bible now clutched to my chest, holding my breath as the only thing that stood between me and the naked King Canute was the slightly ajar door. 

‘Come to me’ Queen Emma's voice gently sounded from the bedding chamber. King Canute took one last look around the chapel, before retreating into the room and closing the door behind him. The sound of muffled smacking of lips could be heard behind the door. I could feel the liquid in my bladder threatening to spill at the sheer panic I felt. I quietly slid down the chapel, my back against the wall, quietly creaking the door open, and stepping back out into the moonlight. 

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‘What am I supposed to do with a book?’ He spat, staring at the bible in my outstretched hands. ‘Tha… that's not what I think it is?’ Mathilda sounded as she reached out, running her fingers over the cover. The man's interest suddenly peaked. ‘What is it?’ ‘Something more valuable than everything you own’ Mathilda whispered, her hands shaking as she grazed her fingers over the cover in disbelief. ‘What makes it so valuable?’ He demanded. ‘This isn’t just any book, this holy scripture was crafted for the House of Wessex since the first body sat on the throne…it’s a treasure’ she said, her voice exasperated. The man took a deep breath, taking in Mathilda’s shocked reaction. He snatched the book from my hands, turning and walking down the steep bank. ‘C’mon then’ he said. 

I grabbed the little belongings Mathilda and I had, reaching my arm around her waist, and guiding her down to the shoreline. 

A group of Vikings stood on the shoreline, lugging items onto the reasonably sized boat. ‘What took you so long Halfdan?’ One of the Vikings questioned as she took our belongings from my hand, flinging them aimlessly onto the boat. ‘Just getting what’s owed to me’ he said triumphantly as if he had done all the hard work. I rolled my eyes, clutching tightly onto Mathilda as she leaned against me. ‘Well get on then’ another Viking said, lifting Mathilda by her underarms, and effortlessly hoisting her up onto the vessel as another pulled her onboard. The same was done to me.

The boat slowly shifted as a group of Vikings below pushed the vessel into the water, a few already on the boat pushing the oars into the water. When the vessel began to float, the Vikings climbed onboard without trouble. I clutched onto Mathilda, leading her to the end of the boat, seating ourselves down and placing the blanket on top of us. 

Mathilda's exhausted body slept soundlessly as the boat travelled further away from the shores of London, escaping into the night. The castle became smaller and smaller as the distance between us increased. The man from earlier sat there, inspecting the bible I had given him earlier. I didn’t trust him at all, but I didn’t know why he was doing this, and I wasn’t going to rest easy without knowing why.

I gently shifted the fur off me, shifting my weight to balance on the rocking boat. I stood before the Viking as he shifted his attention from the book to me. 

‘Why did you help us?’ I demanded, more than asked. The man smiled crookedly, amused at the question as he laughed to himself. ‘What?’ I shouted. 

‘Oh child, all pirates are willing to take you anywhere for the right price…’ 

[introverted-imagineer]

Renegades (Part 1)

Warnings: Violence, Death, Sexist/degrading themes, smutty themes, religious themes.

Description: Leif x Reader

A Saxon reader lives at a monastery as a postulant under the unforgiving rule of cruel leaders...until the Vikings turn their world upside down.

On the outskirts of London, along the peaceful river nestled into county land, a small monastery lies hidden amongst the wheat fields and wild grass. Mostly untouched and isolated from the Saxon population, the monastery exists ruled under the strong hand of Æthelred II. The inhabitants of the monastery live a life of solitude, as silence is believed to be the space in which God may truly talk to his patrons. Those who were worthy of course. Monks spend their days in prayer, study, and education. The more quiet inhabitants, the sisters of Æthelstan live under the monks, silenced to a life of servitude to the Monks, enabling the Monks to live a life in a constant state of spiritual sabbatical…

A deep yawn escapes as I sat knelt on the ground, my aching fingers clasped tightly together. The stone brick room leaves no allowance for heat within the room, the only source of light and warmth coming from the flickering candles as they fight against the wax consuming it. ‘When the candle has melted entirely is a good indication of when prayer may be replaced by sleep’ Elder Aefentid had commanded. Easy for him to say whilst he and his monks sat in the library in front of the roaring fire on a cold eve. ‘Insolence is a sin Sister Y/N’ Mother Brynhorn always scolded me. Being the youngest in the monastery wasn’t an easy feat, especially under the watchful eyes of Elder Aefentid and Mother Brynhorn’s leadership. 

Sister Edith whipped her head around forcefully, her eyes squinting in a nasty manner as her gaze locked onto mine with just as much vexation. If there was anyone as rapacious, earnest, competitive or desperate for purpose and power, it was Sister Edith. To be prideful and spiteful in spirit was an abomination, but if it were in the name of Christ, it was perfectly acceptable. It was practically demanded. Living at the Monastery was meant to be an unselfish, charitable, spiritual existence, but within its walls, malice, ambition and greed were what truly plagued the inhabitants. We weren't living true to God's word. If this place were true to God’s word, God would send his enemies to this place. There was no redemption for the people here. 

We all sat in prayer, under the watchful gaze of Mother Brynhorn as she gazed over the sisters with her nose held up high. Under her habit, I could see her legs shift in an attempt to warm up her body, but it was no use. As high and mighty as the sisters treated her, and as diligent as she felt, the Monks were certain to make sure that Mother Brynhorn knew she was just as inferior as the rest of us. The room was silent, only allowing for the noise of wistful cold air as it whistled gushing between the cracks of the stone walls, the sound of fire sizzling as it inevitably lost its battle, and became swallowed up by the melted wax. We all sat still, however, waiting for the ring of the bell to tell us we could retreat into the blissful escape of sleep. 

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*Ding. Ding. Ding.*

The bells vibrations carried across the small room, radiating to the depth of my eardrums. The quiet sound of dresses sweeping against the floor, followed by the gentle light footsteps as the sisters exited the room. The sounds of our footsteps carried down the dense room, ricocheting down the hall as the final ding of the bell cascaded into silence. 

*DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING…*

The bells continued to sound, getting faster and louder with each thrust. Some of the sisters dropped to their knees, others stood frozen in fear, and the voice of Brother Irvin could be heard from the bell tower ‘INVASION’ he screamed across the small courtyard. The silence was sliced in half by the piercing screams and cries of the sisters, the deep voices of the brothers from upstairs could be heard shouting at one another, Elder Aefentid yelling orders. ‘GO TO THE CELLAR’ Sister Brynhorn screamed as she rushed down the hall, ushering the sisters down the stone steps. I stood, frozen in place, for some reason, desperate to go anywhere but the cellar. 

The Monks cascaded down the stone steps, running toward the large wooden gate that remained forever locked. My gaze was fixated on the gate as it opened, revealing the world outside I hadn’t seen in months. The moon shone brightly upon the field, illuminating the ground below. The wheat was now as tall as a person, a fiery orange glow shining behind the wheat, illuminating a presence from afar. ‘SISTER Y/N GET TO THE CELLAR THIS INSTANT’ that old crabby voice cried. Instead, my legs took me toward the gate, instead of the cellar. ‘Y/N’ she screamed, a deep growl in her voice. But the sound of her voice was soon replaced by the sound of my heavy breathing and footsteps as I ran across the court toward the large gate, desperate to seek more of the outside world than I had seen since I came here. I could barely register the numbness I had previously felt in my body that made my body freeze, and instead, the forceful beating of my heart warmed my body as I ran toward the group of Monks that flocked outside the gate, unforgivingly handling their swords with such pitiful stance. 

God at least admires your efforts…hopefully, God had a sense of humour, I thought. 

I could almost smell the wheat as I got closer to the gate, only for the scent to be stolen from my senses as the large gate suddenly slammed shut in front of me. Brothers Svein and Wystan are on either side of the door, standing guard as to shut down any source of freedom or hope. ‘DECEITFUL CHILD’ Brother Wystan growled, raising his palm, landing a quick backhand to my temple. I stumbled at the sudden impact, falling at the feeling of a leg kicking into the back of my knees. My palm stung as the small rocks and pebbles cut deep into the flesh of my skin. 'AWAY' he hissed.

I gathered my knees beneath me, running back toward the monastery walls, only to find the door to the cellar firmly shut and locked. I turned toward the east wing, running down the hall, almost crawling up the stairs as I desperately climbed the steps against the chaos, tripping on my long skirt. Upon the top of the stairs, I immediately ran across the turret, following the light streaming from the corner tower. The walls were adorned with books with shelves that reached the ceiling. Rolls of parchment and collections of quills and ink adorned the crafted tables. The Monks Library. I gawked at the realisation. The library, a sector strictly forbidden from the sisters. The room was enveloped by the warmth of a roaring fire, the sweet sickly smell of grapes wafted across the room as half-drunk glasses sat upon the central table, the roasting sizzle of hot stew boiled in a large cauldron. Bastards. I stomped to the table, spitting in the large pot out of spite. 

The ladder to the bell tower sat sturdily within the library walls. I inspected the ceiling, surprised to see a trap door on the ceiling open. I eyed the ceiling carefully, looking between the gap to find the bell tower completely unoccupied as the bell itself had stopped ringing entirely. This was my only chance. I grasped the ladder, my left palm stinging at the sensation as a light trickle of dried blood cascaded down to my wrist. I kicked my feet out from under the confines of my skirt, climbed the ladder to the ceiling, and finally crawled into the moonstruck cool breeze as I slithered through the trap door, slamming it shut below me. The bell tower was surrounded by stone pillars but never had I imagined the view would be so widespread as the wheat fields surrounding the walls of the monastery seemed to go forever and ever. The only difference in scenery was the small river way, cutting through the fields of unending wheat. 

Yellow and brownfields were splotched in patches of red, as unidentifiable monks lay face down on the ground, blood pooling out of their lifeless bodies. A deep growl emitted as sounds of water violently splashed, interrupting the gentle flow of the riverbed. Two peculiar-looking bodies struggled and fought against the uniformed bodies of a group of men. Bodies smashed, as men growled, yelled and grunted, the sound of skin and bodies smashing against one another. The only source of light illuminating the scene below came from a burning wooden pillar that leant to one side, threateningly burning close to the dry field below. One of the men ran into the darkness of night, while multiple bodies followed, yelling at the figure. The other unfamiliar-looking individual, dressed in strange clothes battled in hand-to-hand combat in the river with a uniformed Saxon. Someone direct from London…the invaders more threatening than anticipated if the Saxons came all the way here. The stranger grabbed the Saxon by the throat, his body shifting as he turned and thrust his opponent into the water, his head now directed toward the bell tower. I dropped to my knees, pressing my back to the stone wall, hiding away from the gaze of the stranger. I listened to the water splash as his deep voice grunted. But I couldn’t keep away for that long. I crawled back to the other side of the tower, sitting on my knees, letting my head ascend just enough to see the river below. This time, the Saxon stood triumphantly, waist-deep in water as he struggled to keep the body beneath the surface. I could make out the body of the man struggling underneath the water as he fought against the harsh grip of the Saxon. 

I don’t know why, but something felt wrong about the whole scene in front of me. The bodies of monastery inhabitants lay lifeless, blood still pooling from them, staining the crop around them. A Saxon man triumphantly stood, defeating whatever entity had come to destroy us. But strange, all my energy, my being, my emotion was solely focused on the foreigner as he struggled beneath the surface of the water, drowning at the hands of my own people. The people who were here to protect us, and yet, I couldn’t let him die, and I couldn’t explain the inexplicable feeling as to why. I desperately searched around for anything that could help, his counterpart had long gone, and it was unlikely that the monastery was going to share my outlook of mercy for the man that had killed their brothers. In the corner of the tower sat a bow and a few arrows. It sat securely in the corner, covered in cobwebs, and coated in dust, indicating it had been sitting there untouched for a long time.

I brought my shaking hands, desperately prying off the old, thick webs. I had no training, and I had never touched a weapon before, but I had seen my father wield one as a child, but I was never allowed to go hunting with him. But I had seen him shoot a shot once. 

I shakily loaded the arrow into the bow, my hands shaking either in fear or desperation. I gathered all my strength, pulling the string back with such forceful desperation that was probably bound to snap. I directed the tip of the arrow toward the man, letting the string go as it quickly swiped against my cheek, sending a shooting sting across it. The arrow pierced the wind, flying straight toward the river, only to shoot into the riverbed, missing the man so unskilfully. But it was enough to catch his attention. The man suddenly averted his attention, looking for the source of the arrow, directing his attention to the bell tower. I could hear him growl as his fury turned from the man beneath the water to me. 

Oh God, what have I done?

A sudden loud gasp of air emitted, followed by a loud, deep yell that emitted from deep within the previously drowning man. The Saxon, clearly surprised, turned back toward the man, only to be met with a rock to the face. The loud crack hauntingly pierced my ears, as I watched blood spew from the man's nose, only for the Saxon to pin his head under the water effortlessly, until it swept away lifelessly down the river with the current, followed by a watery trail of crimson. My gaze locked onto his lifeless body aimlessly flowing down the river, the monastery now dead quiet. 

The man swayed as he stood waist-deep in the river, hunching over as he coughed and spluttered liquid. I could swear there was blood. Struggling desperately against the gentle tide, he weakly grasped onto the riverbank, using everything within to pry his body from the water. I could hear his grunts as he struggled but eventually pulled himself just enough onto the bank to escape the freezing water. However, he didn’t seem all that bothered by the cold temperature. If his close encounter with death by drowning wasn’t going to kill him, the cold temperature probably would. 

I turned my gaze back toward the monastery courtyard to find the grounds completely deserted. Monks were never the bravest of sorts. 

I climbed down the ladder, cautiously leaving the trap door open as it once was before. The only sounds now were the whistling winds and the chirping of insects in the distance. The once roaring fire that encapsulated the Monk's restricted library was now completely consumed by ash remnants. The battle below had felt so quick, but the now cool temperature of the room proved otherwise. Amongst the luxurious items in the library, furs adorned the chairs providing further warmth while we sisters made do with old woven blankets with gaping holes in the fabric. I grabbed one of the furs, folding it into a tight ball and hiding it within the large sleeve of my habit. 

The large oak wooden gate was now totally unguarded, as everyone had taken refuge in hiding. If only they knew there were only two offenders…but they didn’t need to. The gate, now inched a crack open slowly creaked as the winds blew forcefully against the wood. I slowly squeezed through the gap, being sure not to move the gate in case it drew attention. The bottom of my dress became slightly damp as the crimson stain of fallen blood pooled at my feet. Still warm, and already flies begun to swarm the bodies of the fallen monks. The scene in front looked like a hunt, similar to the ones my father and brothers used to go on, but instead of deer or pheasants, human bodies lay dead…and I didn’t feel any sympathy. 

I quietly trudged through the wheat, grass now sticking to the thick crimson blood which stained the bottom of my dress. The sound of the river carried gently as if it had been undisturbed all evening. A gentle groan emitted, followed by chesty coughs. I cautiously approached, being sure not to rouse or alert the stranger. His coughs got louder the closer I approached, he didn’t seem phased about alerting anyone of his presence…a true sign of a dangerous person. I peeped through the long thin grass to see his body curled up in a ball, spluttering and spitting out liquid nestled deep within his lungs. His eyes were closed shut, the coughing clearly a source of pain, his body quivering as the cool temperature began to consume him. His body shifted, as he rolled towards the river, letting the contents of his stomach spew from his insides. He let out a loud gasp of relief, turning back over gently, only for his body to stiffen as his gaze locked onto mine. He grasped one of the rocks from the riverbank, raising it above his head, directing his aim toward me. The way our eyes were fixated, our bodies still, it was clear we were both waiting for the other to make a move first. I gently lifted my hands, showing a sign of surrender to assure the man I meant no harm. Whether that would stop him from killing me like he had the others, I didn’t know, but even a violent death would be a preferable end to a lifetime at the monastery as a sister. He lowered his arm slightly, but his fingers were still tightly clasped around the rock. As I reached inside my sleeve, he propped himself up onto his feet, squatting on the ground, raising the rock back up behind him. 

‘Who are you?’ He questioned. I was taken aback, not by the gruffness of his voice, but by the dialect he spoke. My village was populated by both Saxon and Danish settlers back home, the language although foreign to most was familiar to me. However, his strong accent indicated that this man was a long way from home, likely not a Danish settler himself. ‘SPEAK’ he yelled, almost as if he wasn’t sure I understood him at all. He inspected my long dress, taking particular interest in the habit which revealed only the skin of my face. Otherwise, everything else was completely covered. I pulled the soft fur from my habit, throwing the ball of fabric at his feet before taking a step back. He leant his arm forward, his gaze and striking aim still locked on me, his fingers gently smoothed over the warm dry fabric. He glanced down, only to quickly revert his pupils to mine. He continued to stare, both of us frozen in place, but now instead of a tense feeling in the air, an aura of calmness washed over us. 

*Ding. Ding. Ding.*

Instantaneously, we both directed our gaze to the bell tower as brother Svein stood atop the tower, his back turned towards us. He clearly hadn’t looked carefully enough to check if all was safe outside the grounds of the monastery. I quickly turned around, averting my attention back to the stranger in front of me. I simply nodded, before running back through the long grass, slipping back through the confines of the monastery. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

Three days had gone by, and the stranger was now a complete enigma as if he had never existed. Elder Aefentid and selected brothers were permitted to leave the grounds to retrieve the bodies of their fallen brothers. They all returned alive and unharmed, either the stranger had died or had left. I hoped it was the latter. 

Elder Aefentid spoke on the other side of the small divider, singing in Latin and reciting bible verses. The brothers got to sit on pillars, the sisters had to kneel. While chapel services were silent and separate, the allowance for mixed services was completely out of the ordinary. Elder Aefentid had decided to sanctify the fallen Monks, as he put ‘who so bravely fought to protect this institute of God’. An interesting narrative, considering they engaged in no battle, merely sent out for slaughter. Their weapons mearly decorations. Their bodies lay there, crafted and carefully placed to hide the marks of defeat and expert combat their fates ultimately had succumbed to. 

The service persisted into what was seemingly an endless day. I could feel my knees clicking beneath me, my neck stiff in place as I obediently faced my head toward the ground. Nobody dared move, not even Sister Edith, as Mother Brynhorn sat on her pitiful stool with a watchful eye cast over the group. In particular, her gaze was directed at me. In the eyes of the Monks, sweeping fireplaces and cleaning chamberpots were enough suited punishment for disobeying Mother Brynhorn’s orders. If it were up to her, the consequences would have been severely different…

‘Now we will proceed with silent prayer’ Elder Aefentid announced. The aura of animosity that swept the room was evident by the sound of silent sighs of agony, even Sister Edith began to shuffle on her knees to relieve the ache of her legs. The sound of slurping could be heard on the other side of the divider as the Monks silently sipped on sacramental wine. I could feel my lips cracking as I desperately lapped my equally dry tongue over them in a desperate attempt to hydrate myself. Even Mother Brynhorn sat on her stool, taking deep meditative breaths in an attempt to calm her fury as the Monks silently enjoyed the luxury of the tart grape liquid. At this moment, the life of rest and recreation the fallen brothers had lived within the Monastery, I couldn’t bring myself to pray for their souls. I couldn’t relish in their sanctity, I could barely bring myself to pity the violent death they came to at the hands of the two strangers nights ago. Elder Aefentid made it clear, our prayers were to be focused upon the fallen brothers, to truly worship their sacrifice and bravery, both in life and death. 

Bullshit. I thought. 

Instead, as my legs ached beneath me, my stomach pained at the hunger, and my dry parched lips. All I could think about was the stranger. How his eyes squinted as if he were in a constant state of contemplation, the way his sun-bleached strands of hair shone amongst the sandy brunette locks, how his wet clothes stuck to his muscly figure… 

‘Sister Y/N’ Mother Brynhorn hissed. I opened my eyes to find everyone standing to attention, Elder Aefentid now standing at the head of the room, both their eyes cast on me still knelt on the ground. I wearily shifted my stiff legs, a loud crack evident as my joints adjusted to a stand. ‘Forgive her, Elder Aefentid, she is still young’ Mother Brynhorn pleaded with slight desperation in her voice. Elder Aefentid stood, his nostrils flaring as he shifted his gaze between the pair of us. His hand came down with a striking slap, causing Mother Brynhorn to step back as she regained her balance. ‘This is what I get for trusting you to bring in some farmer's daughter’ he scolded. ‘The King is a fool for trusting in his whore of a wife, an abomination of Viking descent, women have no place at a monastery’ he shouted, spitting in her face as he got closer and closer to her person. Mother Brynhorn stood there, her eyes cast to the floor in shame. Although she was a leader by definition, there was no way Elder Aefentid was going to allow her to feel as such. ‘AND YOU’ he screamed, his chunky index finger now pointing at me, his sleeve slightly fallen back revealing his prominent veiny arms. ‘Learn to submit or else’ he threatened. The rest of the sisters stood firmly to the side, parting like Moses and the red sea, leaving me vulnerable to the wrath of Elder Aefentid. I closed my eyes, anticipating a blow like Mother Brynhorn. Instead, his footsteps carried to the other side of the room, behind the divider and out the oak door. 

We all stood in silence, not sure what to do. ‘Go to your quarters for individual prayer’ Mother Brynhorn silently whispered between sniffles. The Sisters didn’t need to be told twice, as soon as Mother Brynhorn had finished her sentence, the sisters swept out of the room. I cautiously followed to leave, but Mother Brynhorn stood there, still silent with her palm cupped to her cheek. I turned around, approaching her instead. ‘Mother Brynhorn, are you oka…’ 

*SLAP* 

My weight shifted beneath me at the sudden impact of her strike. I could feel a warm liquid dripping from my nose as a stinging pain seared the bridge of my nose. I gently brought my hand up to my nose, only for my fingers to stain from the small flow of blood. ‘You will not make a mockery of me anymore SISTER’. Her voice sarcastically seethed that last word. For them, the term sister implied equality amongst the women here, but in her eyes, I was still the young, naive postulant. ‘GO TO YOUR QUARTERS, AND YOU WILL STAY THERE TILL THE DAWN OF TOMORROWS MORN’ she screamed, her voice echoing within the small chapel. I turned quickly, speedily walking down the monastery corridor to the small isolated room that was more suited to be a broom closet rather than a bedroom. But I was grateful for the solitude it provided. Outside the door, a large clang thrust against the door. I reached to open it, only to find the door locked in place. ‘Shit’ I whispered to myself. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

The small cracks in the stone wall allowed a small beacon of light to enter the room. But the light turned from a summery yellow to orange streaks as the day slowly faded away into darkness. My stomach rumbled so loudly, I could swear it would be heard outside the locked door. The old candle wax was even beginning to look appetising. I was used to fasting, but fasting with a combination of worry and boredom brought about a different type of hunger. I sat on my thin bed, listening to the pitter-patter of feet outside the door. But just as normal, the monastery was silent. This was no place for chatter, socialisation, or community. For the sisters particularly, Monastery life was a lonely experience. In the eyes of these people, however, I was always going to be the farmer's daughter. 

As I sat there studying the sounds of footsteps, the gentle pitter of feet outside the door began to turn to pacing, then speed walking, and all at once, it turned to running. I sat up at the sudden shift in pace. What was calm had turned to chaos. Silence filled with yelling. ‘THEY’RE BACK’ I heard Mother Brynhorn’s voice scream down the hall. I stood up, desperately jiggling the door frame in an attempt to see what the cause of the commotion was. Were there bandits in the field? Had the King come unannounced? Maybe war-ravaged Saxons were at the gate begging and demanding shelter and supplies. If there was something this place was not, it was charitable. 

*DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING…*

The bells rang, sending everyone outside into a scramble. A piercing deep yell screamed in agony from afar. The sound of women screaming became louder as they all banded together. I banged on the door, but they were lost to the sounds of desperate outcry and fear that sounded outside the door. 

‘VIKINGS’ Elder Aefentid’s voice cried. The sound of outcry continued, their screams encapsulating the entire compound as the sounds of running feet echoed, slamming doors and desperate pleas to God. In the distance, the sound of metal beating against wood could be heard, turning to the sound of men and women talking. I couldn’t make out specifically what was being said, but their heavy thick accents carried through, making obvious the group that was headed towards our doorstep were not our allies. 

I frantically kicked at the door, desperate to get out. I was beginning to feel claustrophobic in the small room, helpless and panicked at the bewilderment just on the other side of the door. The clanging sound of metal, laughter and taunting came closer and closer until the banging outside began. The sounds from outside the gate carried through the monastery as the large oak door took the brunt of a beating. The apparent Vikings held no mercy as the sounds of their forces became stronger and stronger. A loud BANG emitted, and the sounds of yelling and screaming continued as the intruders laughed and roared in celebration. 

Suddenly the sound of slashing flesh, cries of agony and screams to God painted a more sinister picture of what was happening outside the door. I stepped away, backing up against the stone wall away from the door. A small trickle of crimson crept under the door. In particular the voice of a man, deep, regal, prideful, and confident cast across the corridor outside. ‘FOR SAINT BRICES DAY, AVENGE OUR PEOPLE, AVENGE YOUR KING’ he cried as his calls were met with celebratory cries. The sounds of doors opening and closing roughly could be heard, slowly making their way down the hall. Closer…and closer…and closer, until the door started to vibrate. The door almost came off its hinges, slamming against the stone wall as a powerful kick almost broke the wood in two. I slowly drew my eyes from the powerful feet that entered the room upwards. His statue was not too tall, nor too short. His thick, almost new-looking clothing indicated he was a man of money. He had long, yet clean-tamed facial hair that matched his raven locks. The hair, cut to the root on the sides, emphasised his long luscious ponytail. I stood with my back to the stone wall, my nails digging into the coarse texture of the stone. He waltzed into the room, his welded weapon clearly made of the finest materials. He looked around the room agonisingly slowly taking in every detail, a taunting chuckle as his eyes landed on me. He lifted his palm, brushing his thumb over my cupid's bow, bringing it to his lips sucking on the dried crimson blood that had stained my skin hours ago. He lifted an eyebrow inquisitively, his eyes capturing mine entirely as he playfully rejoiced in my terror. He slowly pulled out a blood-stained knife from his belt, grabbed a heap of my skirt, cleaning it slowly on my dress, dousing my dress in blood. I could hear my voice hitch in my throat, my eyes bulging out of my head as the man laughed. 

‘King Canu…’ another Viking entered, taken aback by the scene in front of him. As soon as his eyes met mine, it was as if lightning had struck us both. His face was inquisitively looking as if in a state of contemplation. Those eyes struck me as they did the other night. He stood there, his chest rising and falling, the raven-haired man looking intently at the stranger. ‘What is it Greenlander?’ His voice demanded. But the Greenlander didn’t take his eyes off mine, nor I his. ‘Harald needs you’ he said, a slight cough as he spoke. Clearly the incident the other night still affected him. The King took a step back, contemplating his next move as he shifted his gaze between the pair of us. He gave a quick nod, accepting his sudden change in plan, but his knife was still directed at me. He gently turned toward the door, handing the hilt of the knife to the Greenlander. He put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a rough squeeze as a proud parent would to their child. ‘All yours Greenlander’ he said, turning around and eyeing me up and down like cattle for the slaughter. The King calmly strode out of the room amongst the chaos, undisturbed and totally in control. The Greenlander stood there, the knife loosely clutched to his chest, still staring as if unsure of what to do. 

‘You speak Norse?’ He questioned in his native tongue. I simply nodded in response. ‘You are Viking?’ He questioned, his eyes evidently confused as he looked at my habit. I shook my head. He took a step forward, clutching the knife tightly as if he were about to use it. ‘How do you speak Norse?’ He demanded. ‘Vikings settled in my village…’ I whispered, my voice slightly shaking as I stared at the knife in his hand, still plastered against the wall. ‘DID YOU KILL THEM?’ He screamed, pouncing forward, pressing his forearm arms against my breasts, pushing me further into the wall as the blade of his knife rested against my throat. ‘WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?’ I screamed back, panicked as the crisp cool blade pressed further into my throat. The Greenlander took a step back, his face questioning at the response. He looked behind him to find the corridor behind him completely empty. He seemed relieved by this for some unknown reason. He lowered the knife, still clutched firmly within his grasp, but, pointed in my direction. ‘What is this place?’ He questioned, his tone still demanding. ‘It’s called a Monastery…it’s sort of like a temple’ I retorted, my gaze still fixated upon the blade pointed in my direction. He looked around, taking in all the detail of our surroundings. ‘Why are you here?’ He questioned. ‘I didn’t have much of a choice…my fate came to me just like yours did you’ I whispered, attempting to communicate in terms he would understand. The Viking settlers back home always spoke of the Seer, fates and the Gods. ‘You are a priestess?’ He questioned, more inquisitively. I shook my head. He stood there contemplating, I could feel my body shaking in anticipation, questioning his next move. 

‘LEIF’ a voice shouted down the corridor, gaining the Greenlander's attention swiftly. He raised his knife once more, pointing the blade in my direction. ‘Stay’ he ordered, backing out of the room, and swiftly shutting the door behind him. 

My legs buckled beneath me as I dropped to the floor, cupping my mouth to stifle my cry. The tips of my fingers stung as I clutched the stone so tightly it had indented my fingertips. I could still feel the force of his body against my breast where he had pushed up against me...the pierce of his blade on my throat. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

The room was pitch black as I sat at the very head of the bed, curled up into a ball, leaning into the stone wall. The night was cool, but the aura in the air was chilling. The Vikings walked up and down the corridor, making my heart beat like a drum each time footsteps came close to the boarding wing. There was no mistaking it, the Vikings had made themselves quite at home without much retaliation from the Monastery’s inhabitants. It had been a while since I’d heard any screams from the sisters, or cries from the Monks. The last peep I heard from any of them was their agonising screams at whatever fate had brought them. I could feel my body shake, the night was not cold, but it was frightening. Whatever the Greenlander had in store, I wasn’t looking forward to it. I had heard many tales from Viking settlers in their homeland…horror stories. beatings…releasing prisoners only to hunt them like a game…ritual sacrifice…blood eagles. I could feel the bottom of my teeth slightly chip as I fought so hard to stop my teeth from chattering. My body felt so hot, yet cold at the same time. It felt as though my heart was going to explode. 

A set of footsteps quickly paced down the corridor, headed straight for the boarding wing. I reached for the wooden candle holder, gripping it firmly within my grasp as if it were any match against whatever weapons the Vikings had. The door slowly peeled open, and an orange hue emitted from the other side of the door. The Greenlander slid into the room, firmly closing the door behind him, knife still in hand. Without thinking, I flung the wooden candlestick at his chest, rising to my feet and jumping toward the door. As swiftly as the wood had hit him, his one arm wrapped around my mid-section catching me midair as if I were a feather. The knife made a clang as it dropped to the floor. He held his candle steadily in the other hand. His fingers gripped the skin of my dress, thrusting my body onto the lumpy mattress. I screamed, kicking and flailing my arms about in a pathetic effort for self-defence. 

The Greenlander slammed his candle down on the small wooden table shoved up against the door, his arms attempting to grab my wrists. I flailed and kicked, screaming as he expertly clutched both my wrists in his one hand, thrusting his palm onto my mouth to muffle the screams. His leg expertly knelt upon my long skirt, pressing between my thighs so the fabric trapped my legs in place. He stayed there, his grip intensifying as I began to cry, muffled begs, pleading. Eventually, he brought his body down, his chest now pressed against mine as his hot breath breathed into my ear. ‘Stop’. He hissed, the heat penetrating my eardrum. I turned my head, the tips of our noses just brushing as I looked at him through teary eyes. He brought his hand to his face, my wrists still clutched in his grasp. He lifted his index finger, pressing it to his lips in a shushing motion. I just nodded. He raised his palm off my mouth, looking relieved to find my lips locked tightly together. He thrust his face into my neck, letting out a groan as he tentatively let go of my wrist placing his hand on the curve of my waist. His breath was just as steamy on my throat, but it was only momentarily as he lifted himself from atop of me, kneeling at the end of the mattress. His eyes still locked onto mine as I curled myself back into a ball, trying to blend into the wall. 

He let out a huff, grabbing the knife he had previously dropped, tucking it safely into his belt. He seemed breathless, even though his efforts to stop my attack attempts were so inferior to his strength. We sat there, staring at one another, unsure of what to do. 

‘What is your name?’ He whispered, breaking the never-ending silence. ‘Y…..Y/N’ I retorted, my breath as stuttered as it was exasperated. ‘Y/N’ he repeated quietly to himself. I glanced up and down his body at the end of my bed. ‘What’s yours?’ I whispered back. I could swear through the flickering light I could see him slightly smirk to himself. ‘My name is Leif’ he spoke. ‘Leif’ I repeated to myself. ‘Are you going to kill me, Leif?’ I questioned, trying to back into the wall more. He averted his gaze to the wall, taking a deep breath. He stood from the bed, placing his back against the opposite wall, sliding down. He seemed confused, even conflicted by the question. He looked toward the flickering candle, as it slowly melted into a pool of wax. But I didn’t take my eye off him. He averted his gaze back to mine, giving a slight nod. ‘Go to sleep Y/N’ he said. I took some deep breaths, staring back at him as he took in the tiny room around him. The silence...the waiting...it was infinite.

It was evident that Leif had no intentions of striking up more conversation or leaving. I slowly leaned forward, his gaze now locking onto mine as he clutched the hilt of his knife at his belt. I gently lifted the blanket from the bed, slowly peeling it off, before scrunching it up into a ball, reaching over the bed to place it at his feet. His gaze flickered between the blanket and me, almost confused at the gesture. 

He simply nodded. With that I shifted my body, laying down, turning away from him. If he were going to kill me, at least he might show mercy to do it to me in my sleep… 

[introverted-imagineer]

Update - Harald Sigurdsson Collateral Series

Hello fellow Imagineers and bibliophiles! Thank you so much for all the feedback and interaction with the Harald Sigurdsson series, the positive response has been overwhelming and I cannot express the joy writing this story has brought, but mostly that others are enjoying it! As for updates I'm sorry it's been quiet recently, I've been making my way through the latest season of Vikings Valhalla and wanted to gather more inspiration. I have a few ideas and am starting to put a plan together!

The story is far from over...

Introverted Imagineer

[introverted-imagineer]

Can we get some more Leif? Maybe a part 2

I'll start planning some more Leif content x

[introverted-imagineer]

Underneath The Surface

Tyler Galpin x reader.

Warning: I have not proofread this, but am curious to know if people want more Wednesday content. 

Language, Romantic themes, violent themes, and bullying themes. 

Hope you enjoy 🙂

Y/N = Your Name

Y/C = Your Colour

There’s more to leading a double life than people perceive. There’s the constant state of paranoia, the guilt of deception, the constant looming anxiety that one day, something so small, unpredictable, and avoidable, will catch you out at any moment. But that drive for survival is so strong, the desperation for acceptance, the longing to fit in…to be normal. That’s how I justified my double life, but it didn’t stop all those horrible feelings from being a constant on my mind. 

I didn’t ask to be like this, I didn’t want to be like this. Jericho was meant to be an extension of the safe haven that the gates of Nevermore promised its students. But Jericho was anything but. Normies in Jericho simply tolerated the freaks and the outcasts, it was no secret that the small economy of Jericho was carried by the profits, and donations of Evermore Academy. My Aunt, Principal Larissa Weems, ensured that was handled. 

Being a shapeshifter, I always thought if I didn’t use my powers, if I ignored them, then I didn’t need to worry about upholding the identity of an outcast. But being a Weems, my family wasn’t going to neglect tradition and send me to a normie school, just because I was indifferent to the way I was born. Every shapeshifter is born with a ‘primary state’. For the Weems, that platinum icy blonde hair was a dominant gene, characteristic of every member of the Weems bloodline. It was like a stamp of identity. Any outcast could easily identify a member of the Weems family. Shapeshifters, especially Weems, were perceived as beautiful, elegant, and exquisite forms of human embodiment. However, a slash to the face from a Siren as a child, a very rare form of magic, left my primary state scarred for life. Siren attacks left a very distinct mark on a person. The scars never heal normally, leaving a distinctive dark indigo mark across one’s body. Nothing that could be hidden from a normie. The mark left from a Siren was too…inconceivable and whimsical to be ignored. Because of my distinct features, there was no hiding that I was truly and undeniably an outcast without the use of magic. Something growing up, I was so adamant I was never going to use, even after the attack. 

Being the relative of the Principal of Nevermore also made me public enemy number one amongst my so-called ‘peers’ at the academy. I didn’t like to refer to them as my peers, peers alluded to a being of equality, and friendliness, however, nobody wanted to engage with the relative of authority. While everyone had their cliques, roomies, and friendly acquaintances, being ‘That Weems Weirdo’ equated to a lonely existence. Nevermore caters to the Freaks, Outcasts and Monsters, but being a weirdo was not something on the cards even Nevermore students had the patience to tolerate. 

Rejected by the community I was born into, and rejected by the Normies. I was used to loneliness, but even the loneliest of lonely needed companionship. The Weathervane Cafe was my source of companionship. While I was still Y/N at Weathervane, I wasn’t the Weems Weirdo, I wasn’t plagued by Siren scars. To the normies at Jericho, I was Y/N, the reliable cafe worker, Y/C hair, Y/C eyes, familiar and comforting smile that came free with every beverage, slice and scone served. At Weathervane, I could live the life I wanted so desperately, to be an unextraordinary, perfectly ordinary normie. 

The daily smell of roasted coffee beans, the sound of rustling newspapers, and books, the gentle chatter of Jericho residents, the students of Jericho High consuming dangerous amounts of caffeine as they desperately crammed for tests during late night study sessions, even the burns from the milk frotther that sent a searing pain down my fingertips. All these wonderfully ordinary things brought me more joy to me than one could possibly imagine. But there was one thing that my job at Weathervane that brought me more happiness than anything else in the world, normie or outcast. Tyler Galpin. Since the day I started at Weathervane, Tyler had always been there with a welcoming smile on his face. The Weathervane would fall to nothing if it weren’t for reliable Tyler Galpin working the late shifts, picking up the slack when someone else didn’t pull their weight, the one to call when someone called in sick. But more than that Tyler was extremely charming, caring, responsible…copiously enchanting. 

I had the pleasure of meeting Tyler Galpin during my first shift at Weatherwave. ‘Just do whatever he says kid’ the manager had said, leaving the entire store to the control of two high-school students. The manager rarely had made appearances at the cafe since then. ‘Hey I’m Tyler…and you areee Y/N’ he said, leaning down perceptively to read my name tag. I simply nodded, shaking his large fingers that were warm, compared to my cold ones that had treaded through the cold frost of Jericho. Tyler walked me through everything I needed to know, from making espressos, stock intake, dishes and cleaning, to heating up cheese scones at the perfect temperature for serving. ‘So, this is a small town, and I’ve never seen you at Jericho High…are you a Nevermore student?’ He asked curiously. I’d seen how normies in this town had treated students of Nevermore. They were targets for bullying, scapegoats to explaining the inexplicable mysteries, ostracised from the majority of the town. I shook my head, the beginning of the double life I had built a year on in my awkward ‘friendship’ with Tyler. ‘So where do you go to school then?’ He had asked. ‘My parents prefer homeschooling’ I lied. ‘What do your parents do?’ He followed without a moment to think. ‘They keep to themselves…do lots of different jobs as they come along. Mostly working in investments and money’. Not a complete lie…but an extension of the truth. Unfortunately, my branch of the Weems family was a dark one…theft, robbery, and money laundering. My parents wanted a family of junior criminals and kleptomaniacs…I was a disappointment. ‘Where do you live?’ He then asked. ‘On the outskirts of town…we’re off any main road, my house is basically isolated amongst farmland.’ I cringed at that, certainly a creative way of describing Nevermore. 

Tyler never pushed for more information, it was evident my brief and uninteresting answers were enough to satisfy his curiosities about me. Admiring him from afar was my safest option to keep Tyler in my life, even though I desperately craved his attention more. The shy quiet one from work, homeschooled, lives nowhere specific…a normal but eerie identity. 

Weekends were my favourite. Weekends meant freedom, meant I could leave the gates of Nevermore and immerse myself into the world of which I longed to be part. Leaving the grounds of Nevermore, I could utilise my powers to live the life I wanted. After multiple events, injuries and damage, students with Shapeshifting abilities were prohibited from being able to use their powers outside of classroom activity. A rule insured by the enchantment placed across Nevermore's grounds, but not one that could extend outside it. 

But most of all, the weekend roster meant working at the Weathervane, and weekend shifts at Weathervane meant late nights with Tyler.

Weekends were usually busy, serving both normies and outcasts, my normie shape-shift form undetectable to both. We usually went through a few sacks of coffee beans on a good weekend day, double if it was cold, which Jericho normally was. My conversations with Tyler mostly consisted of conveying orders to one another. But when the sun had set, and the cafe was quiet, Tyler would normally strike up a conversation in the absence of customers, through to closing time and final clean up. Tyler could hold a conversation about anything, or make any bleak moment interesting. My personal favourite activities of his are ‘invent a drink’ or ‘tidy up dance parties’. Nonsensical, but fun activities to pass the time during late night shifts…something especially exclusive to the pair of us. Tidy-up dance parties happened every weekend. Once the doors were locked, and customers were gone, Tyler would run around the store, shut all the blinds, turn the lights down, and turn the music up. He’d even taken the time to create a Tidy up dance party playlist on his phone. A welcome change of tune from the jazz-music that the manager insisted on playing for background music during the day. Tyler would use his mop as a dance partner, a microphone, and a puppet, as he nonsensically lip-synced and danced around the room. When all was done, and the lights went out, the quiet main street of Jericho completely vacant, he would always offer me a ride home. He would plead, and insist, but I always gave the same excuses. ‘I live in the total opposite direction you’re going’ or ‘my father texted, he’s on his way to pick me up’. He always seemed unconvinced, but I’d insist he goes home instead of wait. After long shifts and late night dance parties, it was never hard to convince him to go home to his warm bed. Once he’d gone, I’d make my way back to Nevermore, taking a shortcut through the woods, and transform back to the scarred, icy haired body I truly was.

Tyler was charismatic, chatty, inviting, and funny…all social skills I failed to possess. Quiet, selectively mute, shy, embarrassed. However my nature, no matter how unintended it may be, never seemed to phase Tyler. Every shift, he always had some funny joke up his sleeve, or secret tales from the sheriff’s office, copious theories and stories to go along with them. Many of these theories however all seemed to be rooted back to Nevermore…I could never tell if he admired or despised the place. But for one thing, Tyler had an insatiable curiosity for the stranger things in life. One, in particular, Wednesday Addams. 

I remember the day Wednesday Addams came to Jericho. She certainly caused a stir at Nevermore. Unlike myself, she wasn’t a complete social outcast, in fact, her uninterested state of existence in engaging with her peers at Nevermore made her mysteriously endearing. An infectious repute that existed outside the gates of Nevermore as well…one that primarily intrigued the attention of Tyler Galpin. 

Wednesday was a frequent visitor to the Weathervane Cafe. If ever she even walked past the store, Tyler had his eyes set upon her, watching her as she appeared from one window and disappeared behind the next. Wednesday was no different to how she was in school, short, direct, and unamused. Many people at Nevermore lost patience with her, but a few notable individuals were drawn to her. Tyler, being one of them. Tyler always knew her coffee order, he consistently tried to amuse her with the same jokes that had made me smile. It was one thing seeing the person you liked fall so hard for another, but it was even more discouraging when the person they admired poses such toxic, almost deleterious stature unceasingly. Wednesday, by no means, was a bad person, but she was certainly not shy in letting everyone around her feel as though she hated them. 

Another wet cold rainy Sunday in Jericho meant that the bustle of traffic in Weathervane Cafe was busier than normal. On days like this, the extent of conversation with Tyler ranged from ‘Cappuccino’ or ‘One caramel slice to go’. While the small moments with Tyler were lost to customers ordering all sorts of crazy drink concoctions, the busier we were meant a longer clean up. That is what made the busy days with rude customers worth it. 

As the day went on, with only two on staff, this meant no time for breaks. I could feel the swell of my ankles, the wave of nausea clouding my head as I slaved over the milk frother, the steam penetrating my face, sending hot shivers down my spine. I could feel my heart beating slower with every breath. By the time the cafe had settled down to a few customers, I didn’t feel I could catch my breath. My balance swayed as I shakily poured milk into the to-go cup, shakily reaching for a lid, struggling to clasp it onto the paper cup. I shifted my weight, placing one foot behind to catch myself before I fell, only to bump into the chest of a tall body. His long, muscly arms wrapped around my body, I could feel his chin propping against the top of my head as he gently caressed his hands around mine, steadying my shaking hands as he placed his palm on the top of my hands, clasping the lid onto the drink. He grabbed the coffee, taking a step back, placing his hand gently on the small of my back giving it a quick reassuring rub, his fingertips grazing across my side as he swiped his hand across, walking to give the customer their order. I leant forward, bracing myself against the counter. I couldn’t tell if it was due to exhaustion, or from the swooning, I had just received. 

‘What do you call a convention full of tired people?’ Tyler’s voice gently whispered into my ear. I smiled to myself, a little chuckle emitting at the disbelief. Was he really trying to crack a joke? I smiled to myself, lifting my chin only slightly, just enough to catch his gaze as he leant down on the counter, using his elbows to keep steady. ‘A snooze fest’ he smiled. I shook my head, a smile beaming at the ridiculousness of it. Tyler chuckled. ‘Just 45 more minutes Y/N, then we can lock the door and have a tidy-up dance party…we’ve earnt it’ he said, still leant down in order to catch my gaze. I simply nodded, grabbed my water bottle, and took a deep gulp to cool my body down. ‘Hey I was thinking…’ *Ding* Tyler’s sentence was interrupted by the cafe door opening. Tyler quickly gathered himself, standing to attention to see who had entered the store. ‘Wednesday’ he called with a smile. I could feel the mortal magic of infatuation drain from my body. Of course, it had to be Wednesday. ‘Quad Espresso?’ He asked, already reaching for a cup. ‘I need to speak to you Tyler…in private’ she said, her eyes dancing between Tyler and myself. ‘Ah..sure…yeah’ he said ‘You okay here for a moment Y/N?’ He questioned, already walking around to the front of the counter to follow Wednesday as she walked straight towards the exit. Wednesday stopped in her tracks, turning her head, glancing at me as she turned her head to the side at the sound of my name. ‘Shit’ I whispered to myself. While my appearance was different to my primary state which was so familiar to everyone at Nevermore, I hadn’t ever considered changing my name when I applied for a job at the Weatherwave. But in true Wednesday fashion, she sharply turned her head back towards the door, stiffly walking outside with Tyler in tow. 

I couldn’t help but feel sad, and insecure. It felt pathetic. I knew that Tyler was interested in Wednesday, that much was obvious…was it heartbreaking? Absolutely. Did I have any right to feel so betrayed and upset? Absolutely not. The cafe had few customers, and they had all been served. I couldn’t help but wonder. It was a stupid thought, it was creepy in fact. I don’t want to let this insecurity control me…but I couldn’t help it.

Before I could stop myself, I walked toward the back storage room, the smell of coffee beans, and the coolness of the refrigerator overwhelmed my senses as I walked deeper into the storage room. At the back of the storage fridge, a door led to the back of the building. I gently opened the door, propping it slightly ajar, just a crack…just enough to hear what was going on outside. I could hear Wednesday and Tyler chatting. Well…Wednesday talking at him. This was dumb, this was invasive. Why the hell was I doing this? It’s none of my business. I shook my head, disappointed in my own actions, shaking my head, making a step to walk away and leave the pair, but Tyler’s next sentence forced me to stay. 

‘You guys are having the Rave’N next weekend, right?’. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, my heart dropping into my stomach. Many of Nevermore’s students had been in and out of the Weathervane today, talking about their outfits, their next shopping destination, some even carrying in paper bags, smiles on their faces as they sat in the booths, giving their friends a sneak peek of the contents of their bags. Wednesday mumbled to herself, and Tyler enquired further ‘So you’re not going?’ He questioned, almost with a tone of disappointment in his voice. I pressed my face against the door, my eye poking between the crack of the door in order to gauge the conversation. However, Wednesday, the perceptive girl she was quickly darted her head, her eyes catching mine. I quickly stepped back, the door slamming shut louder than I had hoped. I quickly paced towards the front of the cafe again, almost jogging. ‘Y/N?’ Tyler questioned. By the way, I so quickly stopped in my tracks, it was very clear by my stature I was trying not to be seen. I turned, swivelling on the balls of my feet, turning to face Tyler. He stood in the doorway, his hand on the doorknob. ‘I…I was looking for the rice milk’ I quickly stated. Almost demanding. He turned his head to the storage shelf behind the door. His arm quickly wrapped around the door, before turning back, holding out a carton. ‘I didn’t see anyone come in? Plus nobody ever asks for rice milk’ he stated chuckling. ‘Oh..um it’s for me’ I said, unconvincingly. He nodded, still holding out the carton as I stood, stuck in place, staring at his smirky face. ‘You gonna take it or not?’ He questioned, a slight breathy chuckle following. I shook my head, my head frazzled with guilt, I paced forward, my gaze directed at the floor as I grabbed the carton. My fingers gently brushed against his in exchange. I turned around walking back to the front. ‘Sorry, Wednesda…Wednesday? Where’d you go?’ He questioned confusingly. I paced forward, exiting the storage cupboard. 

‘Sorry about that’ Tyler chimed as he returned to the front of the counter. ‘Here’ he said, reaching across the counter, taking the rice milk from my hand. ‘I'll make you your usual yeah?’ He said a delighted smile on his face. I simply nodded. Truth be told…I hate rice milk. 

The final ding of the bell as the last customer exited the cafe was the sweetest music to my ears. Tyler quickly jogging across the room to lock the door before anyone attempted to get a last minute caffeine fix. The sun had set, and the dim streetlights illuminated the main square as shopkeepers closed up for the day. Tyler and I looked around the room, glaring at empty cups, spilt liquids, empty juice bottles and plates with crumbled remnants. I looked at Tyler, pursing my lips, shrugging my shoulders, as he returned the same gesture back. There was a lot to clean, and this was only in front of house. Without hesitating, Tyler walked along the windows, shutting each blind as he went, ready to begin the annual evening tidy-up festivities. 

Mop in hand, Tyler danced around the room, tapping his feet to the beat of the rhythm of the music. With my dirty dishcloth in hand, I laboured over the grubby table, cleaning until there was a reflective shine. ‘You know’ he said from behind ‘It’s not really a tidy-up dance party if I’m the only one dancing’ he said. I shrugged my shoulders, focus still on the table ‘I’m not much of a dancer’ I whispered back. A splash emitted, and the squeaky wheel of the mop bucket screeched as Tyler kicked the bucket across the room. I could see it roll out of my peripheral vision, giggling as it smacked against the wall. ‘I don’t think Mr Weathervane would like you doing that’ I sighed. ‘Mr Weathervane is never here, besides you and I are the only people practically keeping this place going’ he said, dramatically placing his hands on the sides of his hips. ‘C’mon Y/N…just one dance’ he begged. I turned around to find Tyler standing a few feet away from me, his hand extended out in invitation, one eyebrow lifted as if to say I dare you.  ‘My hands are grubby Tyler, honestly…and I’m no good’ I pleaded. But Tyler stood, his hand still extended, shaking his head. ‘You work hard, you never accept my rides home, we spend every weekend together, just have some fun with me for once Y/N’ he gleaned. I lowered my gaze to the ground in defeat, but the smile on my face was evident. I defeatedly threw the rag onto the table, gently reaching out, placing my much smaller hand in the grasp of his palm. 

I could feel my feet fall from underneath my balance as Tyler thrust his arm back to his side, throwing me from one side of the room to the other, his hand still tightly gripped around mine. He laughed as I emitted a shy giggle, still keeping my gaze directed at my feet. ‘Spin’ he chuckled, lifting his arm, making room for me to dance under his arm, hands still intertwined. ‘Okay okay lets be serious’ he laughed, pulling me closer, wrapping an arm around my waist, whilst holding my hand outstretched to the side. Instinctively, I gently placed my free arm on his shoulder, swaying to the beat of the music. ‘Serious now, I need the practice’ he said sternly. I looked up from the floor to catch his gaze, a puzzled look on my face. ‘Practice for what?’ I questioned. ‘I got a note’ he said, pulling away and reaching into his pocket. ‘Wednesday asked me to go to the Rave’N dance at Nevermore next weekend, how cool is that?’ He expressed, a smile on his face, clear joy in his voice. I could feel my heart crack in two, lowering my gaze to the floor. I simply nodded, whispering back ‘real cool’. 

*Knock Knock Knock*

My body jumped at the sudden interruption, but at the front door through the cracks of the blinds, Sheriff Galpin stood, gently illuminated by the yellow hue of the streetlights. ‘Tyler, open up buddy’ he shouted. Tyler, looking somewhat defeated, walked to the door, unlocking it, letting his father inside. ‘You almost done? We had a few beers down at the station so I need a ride’ he said, a slight slur in his voice, but his body was still stiff and sharp as ever. ‘Ah sure Dad, we’re almost done’ he said, pointing in my direction to show the sheriff he wasn’t alone. The Sheriff simply nodded in my direction, probably the friendliest encounter one could have with Sheriff Galpin. Tyler hurriedly put the mop and bucket back in the supply closet, taking one last look around the cafe, slightly flustered at the intrusion, but still making sure everything was done for the evening. ‘Uh…sorry…yup I think that’s everything’ he said, walking to the coat rack, grabbing his signature brown jacket. ‘You need a ride?’ He asked concerned. I shook my head, we’d been through this routine so many times, he knew I was likely going to reject it anyway. ‘Ya sure kid?’ The Sheriff asked concerned. ‘These Nevermore freaks have been causing a lot of trouble recently, don’t want to wake up to yet another missing person’ he said. You would think it would feel like a punch to the stomach, being reduced to ‘Nevermore freaks’ but it was so common from  normies in Jericho. ‘No thank you, Sheriff, my fathers car is parked out back’ I lied. He nodded, turning around and walking out the door, followed by Tyler. 

Stepping through the Nevermore gates, a wave of enchantment washed over me. My Y/C hair turned back to its signature icy blonde, the flesh of my Y/C skin suddenly scarred with those distinctive dark indigo slashes. I was now confined to being Y/N Weems again, instead of Y/N the Weathervane Cafe worker. I ducked behind the trees, quickly taking off my signature Weathervane apron, and stuffing it into my rucksack in order to conceal the one private thing in my life. As I returned to the stone path, there stood the girl with those oh-so-familiar long plaits. A stern look on her face as she faced the gate, her head turned in my direction. ‘I’ll keep quiet if you do’ she solemnly spoke. With a simple nod, Wednesday seemed sufficed, and continued her stalk forward, leaving the Nevermore gates. 

Walking up the winding wooden stairs on the east wing of the castle, I could hear students in their dormitories. Music blasting, arguing, chatting, frustrated sighs as students panicked over their last minute homework they ignored over the weekend. Everyone had a roomie, but luckily, the benefits of being the ‘Weems weirdo’ meant that nobody wanted to room with me, therefore I didn’t have to share my personal space. Singular rooms were not ideal, in fact, they were highly discouraged, but even in my case, no teacher could force stroppy teenagers to befriend someone.

 ‘Principal Weems is their aunt, they’re a snitch’ ‘They’re the child of Calypso and Lilith Weems, don’t room with them or you’ll find all your things go missing’ ‘One of the only recorded Siren attacks ever, I wouldn’t go near them with a ten foot pole’ ‘They’re own aunt won’t even allow them to cover those hideous scars’.  Even before I moved to Nevermore, everyone had already made up their mind about me. Being the child of criminals, everyone was quick to point towards me whenever any of their crap went missing. If the Principal ever found out something about anyone, all fingers pointed to me. Truth be told, I’d never stolen anything in my life…and I was too isolated to know anything about anyone. 

I unlocked the outrageously large wooden door, opening to see the moonlight streaming in through the glass-stained window. The moonlight shone through the window, shining beautiful colours across the hardwood floor. My room, my sanctuary. It was isolated, and too far enough up the stairs for anyone to be bothered to come up here…most people probably didn’t know this room existed. I opened the window, looking across the quad, taking in the cool air. Some students snuck around the quad, sneaking off for late night dates probably. I looked across the turrets to see the large circular spiderweb window, half rainbow, the other plain. A dismembered hand sat in the corner of the window, wiggling its fingers as if to say hello. I waved back. A self-controlled dismembered hand would alarm the masses, but you soon learn to expect the unexpected at Nevermore Academy. 

I stood at the end of the bed, freely letting loose as I flopped down onto the lumpy mattress. Exhausted, defeated, and disappointed. I grabbed my pillow, bringing it to my face, letting out a loud scream in an attempt to blow my fuse, and let off some steam. A magical moment turned to rejection at the announcement of Tyler Galpin excitedly attending the dance with Wednesday Addams. 

*Click Clack Click Clack* 

The familiar rhythm of high-heeled shoes, elegantly sweeping down the hall drew my attention immediately. Aunt Larissa was the living epitome of what it meant to be a Weems. She was beautiful, elegant, dedicated, dignified, independent, strong…the list goes on. Even the sound of her heels hitting the wooden floorboards sounded beautiful. Her gentle knock at the door was just as strong, yet graceful as she. ‘Commme innn’ I groaned through a muffled voice, as I didn’t have the energy to emerge from the suffocation of the pillow. ‘Hello Petal’ she chimed, gracefully stepping into the room. As a principal, she was tough but fair, as an Aunt, she was extremely caring. I groaned back in greeting. ‘I was thinking, darling, that you and I could take a trip into Jericho after class sometime this week…find you something special for the Rave’N?’ She questioned, a hopeful tone in her voice. I simply shook my head, still face down in the pillow. Her shoes clacked and clicked as she strode across my bedroom, the edge of the mattress gently dipping as she took a seat, comfortingly rubbing her perfectly manicured hands along my back. 

‘I’m worried about you Petal’ she said with a sigh. She was always worried about something. ‘You haven’t made any friends or companions, you refuse to join any extra-curricular activity, you fail to participate in school events, my dear brother constantly calls to ask why his child hasn’t sent as much as a letter’. She said that last point disparagingly. We both knew I had no desire to engage with my parents, all they wanted to know if my will was broken enough for me to go home and become their apprentice criminal. Aunt Larissa was very happy to be my primary guardian at this point in time. I turned my head to the side, allowing my face to emerge from hiding. ‘You know half of that isn’t my fault Aunt Larissa’ I mumbled in defeat. ‘It’s one thing being the child of well-sought criminals, it’s another to be the relative of my school’s principal, and this…well this is just hideous’ I vented, pointing to the scars on my face. ‘You’re beautiful Petal…inside and out’ she spoke, reassuringly rubbing her hand up and down my back in such a motherly comforting way. ‘Why don’t you invite that boy from the cafe?’ She said, raising her eyebrows up and down in a suggestive ‘I know you like him’ way. ‘I see the way you look at him, how he treats you kindly, he might be a normie, but you know normies are welcome at the Rave’N’ she spoke. 

‘We both know I can’t invite him without having to unfold a lot of secrets Aunt Larissa’ I said. She simply took a deep breath, knowing this was true. She never encouraged me to hide my true nature, nor did she want me to, but she respected by wishes to be so’. ‘Besides…he’s going with Wednesday Addams’ I groaned, stuffing my face into the pillow once again in a desperate attempt to hide my embarrassment. The mattress dipped as she leaned down, shifting her weight to place a gentle loving kiss on the top of my head. ‘Why don’t we just go and have a look at some shops this week? We don’t have to buy anything, you don’t even have to commit to going to the dance, we’ll just have a look alright Petal?’ She spoke, an undertone of pleading in her voice. I turned my head to the side, my body following so that I was now lying face up on the bed instead of down. I looked directly at her for the first time since she came into the room. I let out a defeated huff. ‘Fine’. 

As the final bell of the day rung, I gathered my rucksack hastily, not even waiting for Miss Thornhill to dismiss everyone. All week I had managed to avoid Aunt Larissa in a desperate attempt to avoid the shopping trip I agreed to last weekend. Now being Friday, all I had to do was avoid her until tomorrow night…until the Rave’N dance was truly over. 

I paced towards the door, quickly thrusting the door open, only to find Aunt Larissa standing outside the classroom. ‘Ah, there you are Petal’ she chimed, her bright red lips curving into a genuinely pleased smile. I could hear my classmates snigger as they walked past, some mockingly repeating the nickname I had cherished since childhood. Aunt Larissa reached into her blazer pocket, pulling out her white leather driving gloves perfectly catered to the curve of her fingers. She already had her silk headscarf wrapped around her head, protecting her perfectly groomed hair from the unpredictable Jericho weather. ‘Come on darling’ she chimed, already walking towards the front of the castle grounds, her heels perfectly clicking and clacking against the stone path. My feet, countered, dragging behind me as I followed her to the car. 

For a Friday afternoon, Jericho’s central main square was relatively quiet. Usually, Friday afternoons saw the town’s streets littered with Nevermore students as they basked in the privilege of freedom, being allowed to leave Nevermore’s gates. But with the dance one night away, most of Nevermore academy had already torn through the streets, had bought their outfits, and stayed at Nevermore, already beginning to pamper themselves for the festivities ahead. 

The shops at Jericho were nothing short of eccentric…and that was putting it nicely. Due to the deserted state of the town, I didn’t bother to hide the scars on my face. Everything at Uriah’s was too old, Hawte Kewture was too…everything. I was sort of relieved in a way, if we couldn’t find anything then there was no reason to force me into going to the dance. As we exited Uriah’s I hastily made my way to the car, assuming that there would be nothing more. ‘Ah ah ah’ Aunt Larissa tutted. ‘There’s still one more location I’d like to visit’ she said, turning the direction away from the car, lifting her hand up by her face and flexing her finger in a ‘follow me’ motion. I rolled my eyes, displeased at the thought of going to yet another store. 

Opehlia’s Boutique stood tucked away at the back of Jericho’s main street. A bright daffodil yellow in colour, it was surprisingly bright compared to the rest of Jericho…even compared to the exterior of Hawte Kewture. I had lived in Jericho for years, and never had I known this place existed. I followed Aunt Larissa in, the doorbell chiming as we entered the shop. From behind the counter, a middle-aged woman stood, with big eyes, pale skin, and a flower crown adorned across her head. ‘May I assist you?’ She asked sweetly. ‘We’re looking for something for a school dance tomorrow night…preferably to fit our white colour scheme’ Aunt Larissa chimed.  The ladies eyes bulged out of her head, doubling in size at the excitement of the challenge Aunt Larissa had posed to her. This lady probably didn’t get much foot traffic coming her way, based on how stacked her racks and shelves were of garments. ‘Well I have a few pieces in mind off the top of my head’ she spoke, almost prancing across the room. The racks were adorned with silks, tulle, gingham, paisley, glitter, sequins, any fabric you could think of and any pattern. I stood, watching her talk to herself as she slung garments over her forearm whilst Aunt Larissa perused the accessories on display. ‘Follow me’ she said, she had to stand on her tippy toes to look over the pile of white garments she had gathered. I followed her to the back of the store, she hooked the garments onto a rack behind a curtain, herding me into the changing room. ‘Fashion show!’ She squealed from the other side, clapping her hands in excitement.

It was as though I had tried every white piece of clothing on this flowery lady had to offer. Everything was either too tight, too see-through, too long, too short, or didn’t fit quite right. I defeatedly flopped into the feature chair across from Aunt Larissa, as she patiently sat, a look of disappointment on her face also. ‘Aunt Larissa, I know you mean well, but dances are for people who have friends, or are looking for that special someone…for happy people that people are happy to be around…dance’s aren't for people like me’ I sighed. She leant forward in her seat, her ankles elegantly tucked behind the other as she leant forward, lovingly placing her hand on my knee as I averted my gaze to her perfectly manicured red fingernails. ‘A dress isn’t everything Petal’ she said, desperately trying to comfort me after my grim confession. 

*Squeeel* My legs jumped in shock at the sudden sound, knocking Aunt Larissa’s hand off my knee as she brought her hand to her chest to steady the shock she also got. ‘I forgot!’ The woman chimed, skipping across the store to a door marked ‘staff only’. We looked at each other, a relieved sigh followed by a quiet giggle as the woman sang, clapped and squealed in excitement behind the door. She ran back out, slamming the door behind her, a fabric dress bag in hand, concealing the contents within. ‘This’ she said, steadying herself in place at the pure joy in her voice. ‘This is a very very special piece in my collection’ she exclaimed, taking a deep breath in to continue her excited speech. ‘This is a one-of-a-kind, designed by yours truly’ she bragged, taking a short curtsey as if she were on stage in front of a crowd of thousands. My eyebrows knitted together, as did Aunt Larissas. Based on the flower crown that adorned her head, the flowing bright yellow sundress covered in white daisies with hairy wig boots that clashed…it was clear both of us were not entirely sure the contents of the bag were going to be…agreeable. ‘Come, come, come’ she said, prancing over, intertwining her hand with mine, and pulling me back to the changing room. ‘Last one dear, I promise’ she said giggling away, swooshing the curtain closed. 

I dipped up the back, turning around, pulling the curtain back to show the final piece. I kept my head down in embarrassment, there was no mirror in the changing room, so I had no idea what the dress looked like. Slowly rounding the corner, I was met with silence. I looked up, unsure if there was anyone in the room. But there they stood, Aunt Larissa with her jaw almost on the floor, the shop woman biting her lip so tight as she bounced up and down concealing her screams. Was it that terrible? Oh god. I shrugged my shoulders in defeat ‘Well we tried’ I said, turning around to take the dress off and call it a day. ‘Oh Honey’ the shop woman exclaimed, a growl almost in her voice. ‘There is no way in HELL that you are not going to that dance with that dress’. I turned around in disbelief, I looked to Aunt Larissa, instead of her previously shocked expression, a prideful smile on her face as her eyes gleamed. 

I turned around, and walked to the mirror, finally taking in my reflection. The dress was white, tea length with just a touch of tulle in the underskirt to give the skirt a nice lift so that it didn’t just sit straight down. The tulle gave the skirt volume, and a soft flow to the movement of the skirt. The white fabric fit perfectly, hugging the curves of my waist, the off-the-shoulder neckline just showing a touch of bust without being too inappropriate. Lace white sleeves elegantly hugged my arms, a finger loop giving an effortless timeless triangular fit as the lace sat comfortably upon my skin. Upon the dress, small rose gold crystal flowers embellished the dress, giving it a gentle sparkle. For once, looking at my primary state reflection, my eyes didn’t immediately gravitate to the indigo scars on my face, but to the utter perfection of this beautiful dress. Like Aunt Larissa, my jaw dropped slightly at the shock of the reflection. Aunt Larissa came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. She let out a sniffle as we both admired my reflection in the mirror. ‘You look exceptionally beautiful my darling’ she whispered, prepping kisses to my temple again. 

The shop lady and Aunt Larissa retreated back to the counter, excitedly exchanging pleasantries as my Aunt lovingly paid for the dress. I stood there, still in front of that mirror, holding the skirt to the side, swaying from side to side as I admired my reflection in the mirror. But still, I couldn’t help but stare at the scarring on my face…the dress was beautiful, I felt beautiful, but these scars still came to the forefront of my mind. It was more for curiosity, rather than grief or vanity. I just wanted to feel beautiful as a normie. With their backs turned, and me hid by the front of the store with a rack of clothing to block my frame, I shifted. My icy blonde hair turned to Y/C, my eyes changed to Y/C. The scars were no longer there, I had never felt so beautiful. 

I barely took notice of the front door chiming as the door to the store opened behind me. I just stood staring in the mirror. ‘Y/N?’ A deep, yet comforting and kind voice questioned. I aimlessly spun around, only to gasp at the sight of Tyler Galpin staring right back at me, equally as shocked. I could feel my eyes bulging out of my head as I stared in shock, still like a statue. ‘H..hi’ I managed, the volume just above a whisper. ‘Hi,’ he said chuckling, taking in my appearance. ‘Wow Y/N you…you look beautiful’ he said, still raking his eyes up and down my body. ‘Are..are you going to the Rave’N?’ He asked, clearly noting the white theme of the dress. I could feel myself stuttering ‘uu..uh n..n..n…no’ I responded. He nodded, not quite convinced by my answer. ‘So what’s the occasion?’ He asked with genuine interest, still taking in my appearance. ‘J…just trying things on?’ I said, unconvinced. ‘What are you doing here?’ I quickly prompted, turning the conversation around, directing the attention back on him. ‘Oh I’m just picking up a white suit jacket Ophelia set aside for me when I came in earlier on my lunch break, it’s for the Rave’N’ he admitted bashfully. ‘Well you do look stunning Y/N, really, it looks good on you’ he continued complimenting. ‘Yeah…I uh…I just came in looking for some items for winter and just saw this and thought…why not?’ I blubbered. ‘Why not indeed’ he said, smirking. ‘Well it’s a shame you’re not going to the Rave’N, you would be the belle of the ball in that dress’ he said, with genuine truth. I could feel my cheeks heating up as a blush adorned my cheeks. ’T..thanks Tyler’. 

‘Right Y/N shall we go?’ Aunt Larissa spoke, rounding the corner with the receipt in hand. The spark of panic between us was clear as she saw Tyler standing in front of me, and me obviously not looking like the me I was before. Tyler curiously looked between us. ‘Principal Weems of Nevermore?’ He questioned, his fingers darting between us, desperately trying to make a connection between us. To him, I was the lonely normie who lived on the other side of town, homeschooled in the middle of deserted farmland, whilst Larissa Weems was the accomplished, notable principal of Nevermore academy, the caregiver for all teenage outcasts. ‘How do you guys know each other?’ He asked, very much confused. I could feel my chest rising and falling dramatically as I desperately tried to think of something. But Aunt Larissa, being the true picture of grace and elegance took charge. ‘I hope you don’t mind, I saw Y/N at the coffee shop, and seeing her work ethic I was impressed. I’m currently seeking employees at the school to help organise our files, records and such. Y/N is always very organised, so when I saw her walk in I thought it might be a good opportunity to strike up a conversation’ she eloquently spoke. Not a shred of doubt, or a hint of deception or second thought in her voice. Tyler nodded, looking curiously back at me, waiting for me to reaffirm the fabled story. ‘Right…a…and I was going to go with Principal Weems to the Weathervane…just for a chat about the role’ I spoke, adding to the story. ‘So you’re looking for another job?’ He asked a slight sound of disappointment in his voice. ‘I..I..I…’ you idiot Y/N stop bloody stuttering. Aunt Larissa’s gloved hand raised elegantly ‘I have assured Y/N I have no intent to poach her from the cafe, simply just to offer her an opportunity if she’s interested’ she explained, again elegant and poised. I just nodded. ‘My goodness Petal that dress looks most agreeable on you’ she said with a smile, adding to the play that she had simply followed me into the store and she wasn’t my Aunt that just bought me a dress for the Rave’N. 

‘Well Y/N I’ll head over to the cafe now, if you’ll meet me there after you’ve finished your shopping’ she said, reaching her hand out to shake mine. Aunt Larissa exited the store, turning down the road, out of sight. I looked back at Tyler with a bashful smile, raising my shoulders. ‘Well…I suppose I better…’ I said, gesturing to the changing room. ‘Yes…of course, I’ll see you at work on Sunday’ he said with a smile. I quickly retreated back to the privacy of the changing room. Shit. I only had my uniform on me. I poked my head out to find Tyler busying himself with Ophelia as she held up button-down shirts to match. I turned around, shifting back to my primary state, changing into my uniform, desperately shoving the dress as carefully as I could into my rucksack so as to not get caught. I poked my head around the corner to see Tyler still busy with Ophelia. Without hesitation, I dashed to the door, down the road, and to the car. 

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Saturday evening rolled around too fast. Nevermore had been bustling today as students ran between dormitories, asking to borrow this or that, prepping together, music playing while heavy feet slammed behind the doors. No doubt practising their dance moves. 

I sat on the edge of my bed, running my fingers over the multi-print quilted duvet, anxiously picking at the stitches that held the blanket together. Across the small room, Ophelia’s dress hung on the hanger. It almost felt like imposter syndrome, that such a beautiful dress was crafted just for me. One of a kind. A dress of such beauty belonged to someone like Bianca. Not someone like me. If it weren’t for Aunt Larissa, I’d probably skip the dance altogether. What was the point of going to a stupid dance where everyone hated you, and gave one a first row seat to have their heart broken right in front of them? However, there was something about this dress, the way it made me feel…the possibility of being seen as something different. 

I got up from the bed, pacing back and forth, debating between possibility or guaranteed safety.  See, if I stayed in bed, read a book or something then it would be guaranteed safety. No judgement, no dealing with people, no Wednesday, no Tyler. But the prospect of possibility…the chance to branch out of this lonely existence, to see Tyler in his white suit. There was no definitive choice, both had their pros and cons. 

My pacing marathon was interrupted by a knock on the door. Probably Aunt Larissa…the sun had gone down, and the music from below in the grand hall could be felt thumping away up to my attic room. I reluctantly opened the door to find nobody there. I peeked my head out, looking down the hall, but still, there was nobody to be seen. I went to close the door, only to feel a gentle tap at the very bottom of the doorframe. I slightly gasped, shocked at the image in front of me. For it wasn’t a person, nor an animal or creature, not even a measly door mouse. Instead, a hand scuttled into the room, climbing onto the bookshelf to align with the height on my face. 

‘Hello?’ I asked questioningly. The hand didn’t speak…I mean it was a hand. But it was moving around on its own…sort of as if it were its own being. The hand propped up on its dismembered wrist, wiggling its fingers in greeting. The thing adamantly pointed to the dress hanging onto the wardrobe door. I turned around, staring in slight disbelief at the dress before turning back to the hand, that was now propped on its palm, rhythmically tapping its fingers on the surface of the shelf. Conveying the obvious; ‘I’m waiting’. 

I stood in front of the mirror staring at my reflection, still unconvinced at the thought of going to the Rave’N. From the corner, I could hear the thing rattling through my jewellery box, scuttling over on its fingers, placing earrings at my feet before scuttling back to the vanity. I reluctantly put the earrings in, surprised to admit that the rose gold earrings complimented the garment. I huffed at my appearance, staring in the mirror. I could still enjoy the dress, didn’t mean I had to leave the room right? I could just enjoy dressing up in the comfort of my room. As I stood contemplating, the thing scuttled over again, this time with something that did not belong to me. I bent down, taking the tube from its hand. ‘This is Aunt Larissa’s signature lipstick, where did you get this?’ I asked. It simply wiggled its fingers. ‘Five-finger discount’ I sighed. I reluctantly smeared the lipstick upon my lips, being sure to make an arched cupids bow for a more timeless look. With my hair neatly curled, the red lip, and the high heels, I definitely looked the part of a Weems. 

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I reluctantly strode down the spiral staircase towards the thumping of the music. The halls were empty as everyone was likely already at the dance. I didn’t have to go…there was still time to opt-out. But as curiosity killed the cat, so too was my fate as a familiar tall figure walked further down the stairs, Wednesday, in her Wednesday fashion, a black garment to stand out amongst the crowd. 

The pair stood in the corridor, Eugene conversing with them, Eugene looking as though he were dressed to go camping and not the the Rave’N. I stood around the corner, watching the flashing lights of the dance as they gleamed out into the corridor. Tyler stood there, in a white suit with a blue button-up, looking irresistibly handsome. I clutched my hand to my dress, trying to stay hidden around the corner. The trio looked as though they were conflicted. Wednesday, whilst she looked undeniably beautiful, there was a tenseness to her stature. Her body language was stoic as if to say ‘I don’t want to be here’. I could sympathise with her there, but having someone like Tyler Galpin on her arm, it was heart-shattering.  

I could feel the tears brimming in my sockets, letting out a small sniffle to try and suck whatever liquids back in. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I turned around, only to find Miss Thornhill standing behind me. ‘I hope you’re not going back to your room?’ She asked in a friendly concerned tone. ‘Yeah I don’t think this is for me’ I said, trying to round her to head back to the main stairwell. ‘Y/N at least come in for one song, just so your aunt can see how beautiful you look’ she said, smiling like a Cheshire cat. I ducked my head around the corner, looking inside to see my aunt looking slightly agitated as she anxiously waited by the door. ‘Come on’ Miss Thornhill said in a chipper manner. I reluctantly followed her, almost forgetting the presence of Tyler and Wednesday. 

Tyler’s gaze locked on mine as I walked by. I could feel my palms sweating, trying to ignore the confused look on his face. As far as he was concerned, I was just some random with a scratched face. Even Tyler couldn’t help but stare at the mess that was my face. He ducked down, whispering to Wednesday, her gaze also locking onto mine. ‘Y/N’ she called. 

Shit

I walked over to the pair, eyes averted to the floor, taking in the skirt of Wednesday’s dress. ‘You look very nice Wednesday’ I whispered. Her face stayed neutral, a typical Wednesday response. ‘This is Tyler Galpin’ she said, gesturing to the familiar stranger I was so familiar with. I looked up slowly, my chest rising and falling. It was ridiculous really, there was nothing to prove that the scar-faced Weems weirdo was the same as the quiet cafe girl. She didn’t have icy blonde hair or indigo scars on her face. Tyler extended his hand cautiously, I gently clasped his sweaty palm in mine, giving a quick shake. ‘I’m sorry to stare, I just, I swear I saw someone I know wearing the same thing yesterday’ he questioned, his eyes raking up and down my body. Crap. It didn’t even occur to me that he would recognise the dress. ‘Tyler, this is Y/N Weems’ she said. Tyler again, a puzzled look on his face. ’T..this is really strange, my friend who I saw yesterday wearing something similar…name is the same…’ he spoke. It was clear the interaction with Tyler was spooking him. He seemed so unsure of himself, something I wasn’t used to seeing on shift at the Weathervane. I could feel butterflies in my stomach, both at the prospect that I was mere details away from being caught, and that Tyler considered me his friend. Tyler stood, looking somewhat starstruck at the coincidence of all these mere details. The puzzled look on his face indicating he was trying so desperately to remember his interaction with my other half yesterday. ‘It’s a very beautiful dress’ he said politely, but his voice still exacerbated. 

The more his gaze locked onto mine, the more confused he became. His eyebrows scrunching together, his eyes squinting, gathering every detail he could while Wednesday finished her conversation with Eugene. ‘Well it was nice meeting you’ I said, walking toward the grand hall. Suddenly a grip on my forearm stopped before I could take a step back. Those slender strong fingers gripped tightly, making the skin go white underneath his grip. I trailed my gaze up his arm, locking eyes to find he hadn’t taken his eyes off of my body. ‘Sorry’ he said, unclasping his grip taking a step back, forcing his hands back into his pockets, shocked at the action himself. I just nodded, opting to go into the midst of the dance to escape the curious eye of Tyler Galpin. 

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*BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP*

The feral taste of my own morning breath gave me just as much a shock as the bleeping alarm rings. The crusty feeling of dried saliva crumped on my cheek. My thighs slightly itched as tulle rubbed against my skin. That was my own fault for not taking the dress off when I came back. Luckily the thing had left, so I didn’t have to endure sass from a self-mobile hand as I came back from the dance well before it ended. 

For the first time since I arrived at Nevermore, I received some kindness. A few compliments from classmates, but mostly just a few admiring stares. One girl even had to snap her fingers to regain her date’s attention. But as the night went on, I couldn’t escape the subtle glances from Tyler Galpin, between his attempts to keep up with Wednesday’s…exotic dance moves, and suspiciously eyeing the strange girl, with the same name, in the same dress as his normie friend. Staying was all too risky. I could feel the burning trail of his eyes as I left the dance, all whilst Wednesday danced her boots off. 

Rolling out of bed, I carefully inspected the dress in the mirror. I decided that I would leave the dress on the hanger to let it air out, maybe I could get Aunt Larissa her money back…

Luckily being an early riser had its perks. 6:45 am on a Sunday, especially after the Rave’N dance meant that every person on campus, including teachers, was having a well-needed sleep-in. I could leave Nevermore’s gates without being detected, or questioned as to where I was going. Putting my apron on, I bundled up with a puffer jacket and a fluffy beanie to combat the Jericho winter cold snap. The sun had gently risen, a beautiful light blanket of snow draped over the ground, with soft snowfall adding to the crispness of winter air. Exiting the Nevermore gate, a wave of relief washed over me as my Y/C hair brushed down the back of my neck, a glinting feeling in my eyes as they changed to Y/C, and the dreaded scars disappeared as if they never existed. 

The walk to work, especially in weather like this, was a pleasant one. Most people hated this weather, but it was a comfort to me. It was the weather like this where people all of a sudden didn’t criticise one another for wanting to spend time alone, tucked up in cozy spaces. It was the time for introverts. 

Walking down the main street, the gentle yellow glow of lights shone through glazed-over shop windows. People often forget to admire the beauty of the little businesses, but Sundays gave these shops time to shine. The Weathervane cafe’s blinds were still drawn, but a yellow hue emitted little streaks of light onto the snow-laden ground. 

Unlocking the door, a satisfying wave of heat penetrated my senses, causing my cold body to endure the uncomfortable wash of pins and needles. ‘Morning Miss Joan’ I called out. ‘Actually, it’s me Y/N’ Tyler’s voice called from the backroom. Shit. I was counting on the hope that Miss Joan would be working today instead of Tyler, as he had mentioned in passing taking his normal Sunday shift off this particular day. I was hoping that a break in seeing him would be enough to make him forget about the small curious details he encountered last night with the Weems girl. Instead of responding, I went straight for the kitchenette, hoping to avoid Tyler until the morning day’s shift began. ‘I made you a coffee already Y/N’ he called again from the back room. I popped my head out of the kitchenette to see a steaming frothy brew sitting neatly next to the coffee machine. I quietly tip-toed over to the steaming mug, hoping to avoid alerting Tyler of my movements. I brought the steaming cup to my lips, only to practically gag as the liquid touched my tongue. I knew that stupid rice milk lie would catch up to me…

As Tyler spent the morning busying himself in the back room, I turned the closed sign to open. The streets of Jericho however were desolate of life. Usually, on Sunday mornings, the Weathervane was a hub for rest and relaxation. A place of respite and solitude as Jericho’s residents treated themselves to coffee and pastries. Especially on cooler days like this, there would usually be someone waiting at the door. But as the snowfall continued outside, the streets remained empty. 

I sat behind the counter, my attention focused on one of the books from the bookcases in the cafe, all about Jericho’s certainly strange history. I barely acknowledged the sound of Tyler pulling up his stool next to mine, focused on the book in hand. It was only when half a blueberry muffin was presented in front of me that I realised in the hour we had been open, this was the first time I had laid eyes on Tyler all morning. ‘Thanks’ I chuckled, biting into the warm fluffy cake as Tyler ate his half. I knew it was risky, but I knew it would be even more obvious if I didn’t ask. ‘So…how was your date?’ I asked cautiously. Tyler chuckled, crumbs dusted upon his pink lips. ‘It was the Rave’N Y/N, it wasn’t a date’ he said fleetingly. ‘But it was fun…I did feel a bit out of place though’ he said with a gentle smile. Oh Tyler, if only you knew how much I related to your predicament on a personal level. ‘I thought you went with Wednesday Addams?’ I questioned gently, intrigued by his comment that the Rave’N was in fact not a date. ‘Just because we went together doesn’t mean it was a date’ he said with a soft chuckle, elbowing my arm in a playful manner. I chuckled to myself, more so at the touch rather than what he actually said. ‘Hey, how did your interview with Miss Weems go?’ He asked seriously, ‘I hope you’re not ditching me’ he said with a lack of enthusiasm. ‘Ohh, ya know, I talked to my parents but they said they didn’t want me hanging out at the freak school so I turned it down’. Tyler’s gaze locked on mine, his eyes squinted together. ‘Damn Y/N I didn’t think you were as prejudiced as everyone else in this shit town’ he said displeasingly, a slight scoff at the end of his sentence as he shook his head.  Felt my stomach drop, I had never made Tyler react to something I said. ‘Ooo..oh don’t get me wrong, sh..she was very nice….my parents just don’t want me going there’ I stuttered. ‘You know what parents are like’ I dragged on. Tyler simply nodded, seeing the way he and his Dad interacted with one another, I knew Tyler would understand what that meant, to have overbearing parents. Something I certainly didn’t envy him for.

We sat there, behind the counter in the empty cafe, nattering on about the Rave’N dance, how Wednesday surprisingly ruled the dance floor, her signature black dress as it stood out amongst the white dressed cloud, the ice cold drinks that looked more like a science experiment rather than a beverage. It was almost comforting to listen to a normie admire Nevermore for what it was, not the criminal rehab for uncontrollable freaks and beings that most normies perceived.  I began to relax in his presence, hoping he had forgotten about his interaction with my other half as he continued to gleam about his evening with Wednesday. For once, I was actually happily listening to him go on about her. 

‘Hey, remember that dress you were trying on at Ophelia’s the other day?’ He questioned amusingly. I nodded, averting my gaze to look out onto the streets of Jericho. ‘Well, I met one of Wednesday’s school friends wearing the exact same one’ he chuckled. ‘Oh yeah…no it wasn’t me, I just wanted to try it on for fun really, the shopkeeper practically insisted’ I said, waving my hand to the side as if to brush off the whole event. ‘Well for the record, you looked stunning either way’ he said with genuine earnestness. What did he mean either way? ‘So what did you get up to last night then?’ He questioned intriguingly. ‘Oh, the usual’ I bleakly responded. Tyler simply nodded, his gaze still on me. 

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The day carried on, the snow continuing to fall, as we continued to turn the thermostat up. The only customers that really visited the Weathervane today were other shop owners as they came in for hot drinks and freshly baked pastries, only to return to their shops. For the most part, the Weathervane was empty. 

While Tyler had insisted, his night at the Rave’N was not a date, it was hard to listen to him talk about her all day. Her outrageous dancing, her strange adventures, her constant visits to the police station, his Dad’s frustrations with her. There was no doubt, Wednesday had certainly taken Jericho by storm. But she certainly seemed to have ingrained herself into Tyler’s heart. I could feel little swords to my heart each time he said the word Wednesday. But who could blame him? Everyone at school seemed to like Wednesday, even though she wasn’t chatty or particularly sociable, she had an unnerving self-assuredness, she was pretty in her own way, and she didn’t care what other people thought of her. Wednesday Addams quite simply possessed the qualities that everyone wishes they had. Instead, we were all wrapped up in what other people did, said or made of us. When you were the isolated weirdo of the school, it was particularly hard to ignore when everyone was so intent on making sure you knew what they thought of you.

‘STOP!’ I yelled. I could feel my voice hitch in my throat, the absolute shock that emitted from my body just as powerfully hit Tyler as he dropped the ceramic cup, smashing to the ground. My stomach was doing summersaults, my face burning as I had so violently brought my hands to cover my mouth in utter shock. ‘Y/N’ Tyler exclaimed, shocked and angry in his voice. ‘I….I..I’m so sorry’ I whispered, tears brimming at the surface, glazing my vision. Tyler stood frozen, his hands still clasped as if he were holding the cup in his hand still. I simply got up from my stool, rushing to the backroom, locking myself in the employee bathroom. I sat on the toilet seat lid, rocking back and forth, clutching onto myself, arms crossed over my chest. ‘Stupid, Stupid Stupid’ I cursed to myself. I gently knocked my head against the thin bathroom wall, trying to knock some sense into myself. I had never spoken to Tyler like that, I had never so blatantly yelled at anyone ever in such a demeaning tone. It just slipped out…all he did was talk about the Rave’N and Wednesday, and I couldn’t listen to it for another second. The way his eyes lit up, his constant smile, the continuous humming of tunes from the dance. All it caused was hurt, my soul slowly shattering piece by piece. She wasn’t even nice to him half the time! Why couldn’t someone look at me that way…not just Tyler, anyone! That stupid school, that stupid dance, those stupid students, and most of all stupid Tyler and Wednesday. I just so desperately wanted to feel so accepted, so liked…so loved as Wednesday was. 

I sat in the toilet, thoughts racing at a million miles an hour. But in all those thoughts, one thought stuck, standing out from all the rest. I couldn’t just go back out without explaining to Tyler why I had yelled and stormed off, not without admitting how much I cared for him. I couldn’t just leave, that would be worse and cause even more drama. But this thought wouldn’t go away, it went against everything I was taught, every value Nevermore had ingrained into me…one that would please my parents.  The urge to act upon this impulsive thought almost gave me a headache, and so I will. 

I stuck my head out the bathroom door, listening to the loud ringing of the vacuum cleaner as Tyler tidied up the mess I had caused. I gently slid out from the security of the bathroom, tip-toeing to the staff cooler, gently slipping out the back door, and onto the main street. 

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This was so unethical. This was so incredibly wrong. This encompasses everything that makes the freaks and outcasts so hated by normies. Was it really so bad in the grand scheme of things? The outcast of the outcast doing something that defied morals of what it meant to be a respectable outcast? I stood outside the window, looking at my reflection. Long black braids that cascaded down my shoulders, clothes black as night, not allowing for a shred of colour to present itself. The infamous frown that made her so noticeable, not even a smirk or hint of a smile. 

I walked along the outside of the Weathervane cafe building, the ground beneath me slightly slippery. I was determined to keep her frozen-like stature as I paced towards the front door of the cafe, not moving my arms, making sure to keep a little stomp in my walk. I tentatively reached for the door handle. Was I really going to do this? Before I could have any second thoughts, Tyler emerged from the storage cupboard, a smile on his face as he raised his hand in greeting. I swung the door open, probably a bit too forcefully, pacing into the warmth of the cafe. ‘Wednesday’ Tyler greeted. ‘Hello Tyler’ I greeted back in a dull manner, locking my eyes on his and she would when holding a conversation with anyone. ‘What brings you in today?’ He asked tentatively, already going toward the coffee machine to make her signature drink. ‘Just checking in, I’m glad you had fun last night’ I retorted. Tyler looked up cautiously. ‘If you knew I was having fun why did you keep asking what was wrong with me?’ Shit. I didn’t think this would backfire so quickly. Think Y/N Think. ‘Enlighten me then’ I almost demanded. Tyler looked a bit taken aback. Either he was still shaken up from before, or I was putting a little too much effort into this Wednesday performance. ‘Wednesday, I’m telling you, there is something up with that Weems’ he said, almost exasperated with having possibly repeated the same conversational matter as with the real Wednesday last night. ‘Part of me was just hoping it was them’ he said sullenly. My stomach fluttered as it simultaneously dropped. ‘It’s all just too spooky Wednesday’ he said, pouring the black golden liquid into the coffee cup, sliding it over. ‘Who?’ I asked curiously. Tyler locked his gaze, lifting his eyebrow as if to say ‘really?’. I lowered my gaze to the floor, averting the awkwardness of guessing around the situation. I walked to the booth, plonking myself down on the seat to avoid awkwardly standing there in front of Tyler. 

He slowly walked over, bringing the coffee cup with him, placing it in front of me. He gingerly sat down from the seat across, staring at me. He took in all her features. Her long braids, piercing eyes, pale skin, bleak frown. He didn’t say anything, simply looked. ‘Aren’t you going to drink your espresso?’ He inquired. Even though the contents of the cup were tiny, only the brave with a taste for bitterness could endure the taste of espresso…only an Addams could tolerate the bitter brew quadrupled. I brought the steaming mug to my lips, the smell that wafted my senses nauseating enough. I took a small sip, Tyler watching intently. I tried to suppress the instinctual urge to screw up my face. I could feel a slight well of tears in my eyes. A cough escaped, burning my very tastebuds. ‘Everything okay?’ ‘Yup..*cough*…just a bit hot’ I retorted. Tyler smirked, his gaze still locked on my face. ‘When has that ever stopped Wednesday Addams from knocking back a quad espresso?’ He questioned. I sat back against the booth, wishing the old leather fabric would just swallow me up into oblivion. 

Tyler looked out the window, his eyebrows knotted together as he fixated on the snowy landscape outside. His mouth was slightly ajar. I sat still, trying to figure out a way to escape this whole situation. Tyler leaned back, his gaze shifting from the outside back to mine. He relaxed back into the booth. 

‘Do you know what I like about you?’ I just stared back at him, trying to evoke the very essence of Wednesday. She wasn’t one to engage in guessing games or engage with anything that involved emotion or feeling. ‘You don’t expect me to be anyone else, you see me for me. I like to think I see you for you too, and with all this depressing town has to offer, it’s refreshing to just feel unapologetically accepted by someone. You don’t try to change me, or anyone else. I know you try to keep yourself to yourself, but the truth is, you don’t need to when you’re with me. You have no idea how incredibly happy it makes me when you relax, and if I’m the reason you always retreat back into yourself, then I’m sorry. But life in Jericho is so boring, and hanging out with you just feels like a peaceful respite amongst the screaming crowd.’ He reached across the booth, grasping his hands in mine. ‘And you really did look breathtaking in that dress’ he said, his thumb rubbing over my hands. I stared back in disbelief. Wednesday Addams was truly the luckiest person ever, to have someone like Tyler feel so admire her inner self. It was almost depressing, but I just wanted to stay in this moment, his warm hands wrapped around my small ones for a moment longer. 

‘By the way’ he said, his mouth contorting into a cheeky smirk as he leaned forward in a whisper ‘Wednesday doesn’t usually make exceptions when it comes to letting people touch her’ finishing his sentence with a cheeky wink. I could feel my mouth slightly gaping as I almost choked. Tyler leaned to the side, diverting his attention to the front door, waving someone inside. The doorbell rang as I slowly sunk into the booth. ‘Nice look’. Shit. Wednesday paced across the floor, sitting down next to Tyler. ‘I don’t appreciate being mimicked Y/N, nor will I tolerate it’ she sternly said. There even seemed to be a tinge of red on her cheeks, evidence showing she was furious. I sat there, chest rising and falling deeply, panic brewing. ‘Switch Weems’ Wednesday demanded, her hand slamming against the surface of the table. My shoulders twitched at the shock, and so I melted back into the cafe girl. Tyler scoffed to himself, nodding to himself as he averted his gaze down to the table in front of him. ‘Tyler, as your friend, I must tell you I in no way corroborated this’. Tyler almost smirked to himself, with his head facing downward I couldn’t quite tell. ‘I know Wednesday’. She simply nodded, reached across the table, shooting the hot espresso, before standing and leaving. 

‘Wednesday!’ I called, as the doorbell rang as she stood halfway out the door. ‘I’m really sorry’. She stared back, her face still as stringent as when she walked in. ‘Good’ she said, letting the door slam behind her as she disappeared down the main street. 

‘Y/N Weems, I’ve met her before, but she certainly doesn’t look like you’ Tyler mumbled. There was no use lying anymore, I was utterly defeated. I ran my hands through my hair, letting the Y/N switch back to icy blonde. Tyler stared at the transformation as I tentatively met his gaze. I sat there, letting him stare at my primary form. ‘Something is still missing….about here’ he said softly, reaching across the table, running the backs of his fingers gently down my cheek. So I let the scars come forward too. ‘How long have you known?’ I whispered. ‘Well, I’ve long suspected you were hiding something. Every night when you claimed someone was picking you up instead of accepting a ride. Every night I sat in my car quietly, making sure you left work safely, watching you walk down the main street alone in the opposite direction. You never speak about school, friends, or family. I know you said you were homeschooled, but even then you seemed so unsure of yourself. Always checking your hair, or taking a sneaky look at yourself in the mirror, making sure everything was in check. But most of all, you always had this kindness to you, something only possessed by those who have experienced true hardships. Most people in Jericho can’t bite their tongues when they saw a Nevermore student, or were quick to blame Nevermore whenever something in this town goes wrong. Heck, even I used to taunt Nevermore students’. He seemed shameful with his last sentence. ‘You Y/N have always been kind to everyone, it was only last night I truly connected the dots’. 

‘I just wanted you to like me…’ I whispered. His fingers reached across the table, wiping away the single tear that streamed down my cheek. ‘Y/N…everything I said was true, but it was for you, not Wednesday’ he said sweetly, directing his own gaze away out of embarrassment. ‘I’m sad you felt you had to be someone else in order to show that.’ Tears continued to stream gently and slowly, droplets falling onto the tabletop. ‘Seeing you last night, in that dress, as you. It was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen…besides why do you think I work weekends?’ He said with a chuckle. I giggled too, the notion that any teenager would rather get up early on a Sunday morning to serve cranky customers was slightly strange. 

‘There’s only one of you Y/N, multiple forms yes, but at its core, no matter the changes you make to the outside, the inside has always been the most beautiful part of you’. I shuffled out from the booth, Tyler following my movement. His tall frame towered over mine, as I directed my gaze to our feet, the tips of our shoes brushing against each other. His hands gently raised, cautiously placing them on my cheeks. He tilted my face gently, meeting my eyes halfway as he bent down slightly. ‘Hi,’ I giggled, feeling his breath on mine. He didn’t respond, instead, he leant in, and I closed my eyes. His lips were soft and warm, compared to my chapped ones. His face was warm, his nose pressing gently against mine. Our lips moved in sync, as if choreographed, as if they were always meant to be. It felt like the world around us disappeared like we were completely encapsulated in this moment like it would never end. He pulled away gently, leaving my lips cold, yearning for more, but his forehead still pressed against mine. ‘Hey Y/N’ he whispered. I opened my eyes, seeing his piercing gaze staring straight back at me. 

‘Yes, Tyler?’

‘Can I drive you home?’ 

[introverted-imagineer]

A Land Across Seas (Requested)

Leif Erikson x Reader

Requested: I really liked your writing and was wondering if you could do a story on Leif Style where she is a strong warrior and does not mind killing anyone, but begins to sympathize with Leif and his way of being

Warnings: Violence, Language, Murder, Death, Conflict, Themes of Trauma, Stress (Please take care)

Author Note: This story was requested by one of our lovely fellow Imagineers. Thank you for the inspiration!

'Your anger gets the best of you child' Jarl Haakon announces from the sidelines of the private training grounds buried deep within Kattegat's woodlands. We're Vikings, we're supposed to be fierce, strong, and unstoppable. What did she want me to be? Joyous while slinging axes at tree trunks? I could feel a fire in my stomach as heat traveled to my cheeks, contending with the cool layer of sweat that covered my forehead. I dropped the axe at my feet, bringing my hands up to my head to gel back the loose strands of hair that unwound from my long braids. Partly from annoyance, but mostly from frustration. Jarl Haakon slowly strode over to the tree trunk that had endured the brute of my thrashing. She gently lifted her hand to the trunk, brushing her hand down, following the rough concave fixture I had ingrained within the short hour we had been here. I don't know why she seemed so taken by my target, a few more throws and she would probably have firewood to last the week.

She stared back at me, a smirk, raising her left eyebrow. I lifted an eyebrow back in confusion, taking in my surroundings to see the few other people causing just as much havoc as I had. The only difference was their strikes on their tree trunks were slick, and clean, their bases still sturdy. Mine, however, a gentle push and the tree would probably fall. 'Y/N, I chose you to join the shield maidens because you come from a long line of victorious and honourable warriors. Your father, your mother, and their mothers and fathers long before, but you are troubled too easily'. Naturally, I rolled my eyes in response. I had heard this speech growing up my entire life. 'Don't get involved in other people's fights'. 'Why is your first instinct to always punch someone?'. 'Y/N come outside and apologise to this person'. 'Why can't you be more like your sister?' .'For the love of the Gods Y/N, you've really done it this time'. I came from a lineage of fierce warriors who spent generations fighting for Kattegat, all I was told and taught growing up was that I was going to be the same, one way or another.

It was always an ongoing issue. The new ways versus the old ways. I was stuck in the old ways. Uncontrollable, rage driven, provokable. The new ways, although still true characteristics to being a Viking somewhat, being new Vikings meant having a logical outlook on revenge and warfare. A trait that I clearly didn't have. By the end of her speech, the few other occupants of the training grounds had directed their attention to our conversation. I could feel the veins in my neck press against the surface of my skin as I took deep breaths. 'Fuck off' I mumbled to the other shield maidens, storming off down the hill back toward Kattegat, leaving the Jarl to continue her training session.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

Mornings in Kattegat were always busy. The ports especially were always the centre of livelihood. With a constant revolving routine of merchants travelling in and out of Kattegat to trade and sell their goods, like expensive silks, weaponry, food, thralls, and loot; There was never a dull moment in Kattegat. Within the walls of Kattegat however, even with the frequent influx of visitors, the population remained the same. Most families had a history here that drew back generations, most of us living in the very same homes our families had always lived in. I knew Kattegat and its people like the back of my hand, everything had always been a constant.

I wearily peeped my head around the longhouses that populated central Kattegat. I could hear the familiar sound of sizzling hot metal as it was dunked in pales of cold water to cool the carefully moulded metal. When there was no exploration, no war, no fighting, he made weapons. Fixed them, created new ones, and restored old pieces. Father's blacksmith shack was located a few doors down from our longhouse, and I didn't want him to see me. When the banging of his hammer against metal could be heard, that meant it was safe to pass because his back would be turned. So I waited in the shadows until the clanging of metal sounded from the shack again. I made a point to tip-toe down the path, as the centre of Kattegat was mostly deserted at this time of morning as everyone was either inside breaking fast, or down at the ports where the markets were. Mother would likely be at the port's trading for the freshest catch before the fish sat there too long and warmed with the warming sun in the rarely sunnier months in Kattegat.

As the clanging of metal continued to sound, I approached our home quietly. 'Ah the infamous daughter returns' a gruff, winded, familiar deep morning voice sounded from behind me. I let out a loud groan of defeat as I slung my arms down by my sides, turning around with my head down in shame. 'You're back early, what did you do this time?' He questioned with comical value. 'I…thought I'd come to help you?' I wearily, almost too cheerfully stated, unsure of my confidence in the lame excuse. His shoulders shook as he lowered his head, shaking it trying to stifle a laugh. 'I know you all too well Elskan'. I crossed my arms, huffing at the annoying nickname I had harboured since childhood. Elskan, meaning my darling, sweet one. Something everyone had no trouble making sure I knew I was anything but. The clanging of metal ceased momentarily as the perpetrator of the sound directed their attention to me 'Y/N' Baldr called, waving his hammer above his head in greeting. My sister's husband. The only person father actually trusted to help him in the shack. 'When did Baldr get in?' I questioned confusingly. 'This morning, they are only staying for the day before going back to Kjorseyrr. Your sister and the kids are at home with your mother' he almost lectured. 'And don't expect any breakfast Elskan, you're meant to be home when training actually finishes…NOT WHEN YOU LOSE YOUR TEMPER' he yelled as I stormed off toward the house. At the very least, my nephews would be pleased to see me.

As soon as I stepped in the door, I was on my backside as two small bodies jumped on my front. 'FOR KJORSEYRR' Ulrik shouted, whilst Vali prodded his small wooden sword into my stomach. Yanking the toy from Vali's grasp, I reached my arm around their waists, rolling over onto my stomach pinning the giggling pair beneath me. 'You will be blood eagled for your treason, Kjorseyrr is still part of Kattegat' I proclaimed in a coarse, deep growl. 'Oh Y/N why such dark threats' my mother barked as the boys continued to giggle. 'It was just a joke mother' I groaned back, making faces behind her back as the boys stifled more laughter. 'Don't speak of such things in front of them when they are so young Y/N, they don't need to know of such things' Yrsa lectured, which always uncomfortably penetrated my very core. 'Well dear sister, they do come from a long lineage of warriors….' I snarked back, imitating the Jarl's voice. My mother turned around, giving me that look that mothers do. 'They also come from a family of triumphant and skilful farmers' Yrsa retorted. 'Yes, but you should be embarrassed your sons go around screaming for the victory of a small peninsula like Kjorseyrr' snorting at my wit. Yrsa huffed, rolling her eyes. 'Come give your big sister a kiss'. I walked over, hugging her from the side, placing a quick kiss on her puffed cheeks. Her stomach was full, too large now to be able to hug her from the front. 'This little one seems ready to come out' I joked poking at her stomach, feeling a gentle kick back. 'Well if this little one is as active out here as she is in there, you may just have a new best friend Elskan.' She retorted displeasingly.

Kjorseyrr was a small island off the coast of Kattegat's shore, a short row away. Mostly an island for farming families, which Yrsa became part of when she married Baldr. Yrsa and I certainly didn't agree on much, nor were we alike in the slightest. The gentle and the vicious ones everyone always referred to us as. But at its core, we were very close. Visits with them were always confined to the space of a day, once a week at least so Baldr could help father in the shop. But also so we could see Yrsa and the boys.

The morning daylight turned to a blue sky, a warm breeze engulfing Kattegat. The day passed with lively conversation, not without lectures directed at me every so often, cooking, fishing, and playing. But days with Yrsa were too short and passed quickly, as the blue sky slowly emitted an orange hue, meaning it was time for Yrsa, Baldr and the boys to return to Kjorseyrr. 'Are you coming to the ports Y/N?' father questioned, his hands resting on his portly belly as he finished digesting the evening stew. 'I better stay and get an early rest, the Jarl will probably be extra hard on me tomorrow morning' I moaned. With a quick goodbye kiss and cuddle, the lively hut turned to utter silence.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

As I lay in bed lightly dosing off, an unfamiliar horn emitted from afar. I sat up, listening as the horn continued to roar from afar. I got up from the straw mattress, peeking my head through the curtain divider to see my parents sleeping quarters unoccupied. Walking outside, the sun had almost set, but similar to myself, other people had their heads poked out to see where the commotion was coming from. The horn sounded from the ports. I grabbed my father's coat, threw it over my sleeping dress, and walked down the path toward the ports, getting closer to the sound. Some people followed, and most went back to their evening undisturbed.

I stopped on the outskirts of Kattegat's walls, I could see my mother walking toward the gate, whilst my father stood on the edge of the port, handling the heavy rope to dock the small sailing boat that came into Kattegat's harbour. As mother wrapped her loving arm snugly around my waist, she began to slowly walk forward back toward the port, my body unwillingly stumbling along. 'Who is that?' I questioned. 'And why are they blowing their horn so loudly in the evening?', a slightly obvious irritation in my voice. 'I'm not sure Elskan…'. Their unfamiliar accents could be heard, asking about how many boats had arrived before them, while one of the figures shouted orders at the few other members of the crew. They were dressed in heavy, thick grey skins, held together by thick frayed stitches. They seemed friendly enough, they weren't causing any fuss, asking my father questions politely. But they weren't unloading any goods. It was too small to be a trading boat, or grand enough to harbour anyone of significant status. These people…were unfamiliar.

The bodies slowly made their way up the port toward land. The smell of sweat and salt emitted from them. They slowly nodded in greeting as they passed, walking toward the gates of Kattegat. One stayed behind, talking to my father as he busied himself with the ropes to secure the boat to the dock. Father said something, pointing in our direction. The stranger nodded, lifting his hand in a polite thank you, before turning his stature, and making his way toward us. He had brown shoulder-length hair that had tints of gold, likely a consequence of being in the sunlight too much. His beard was short in length, unlike that of the Kattegat natives who took pride in growing out their facial hair, braiding and beading them. His eyes almost naturally squinted, eyebrows busy, his nose slightly upturned. He stopped in front of us, his legs almost jelly-like on the solidarity of land.

'Hej Matron' he greeted, directed at mother, with a slight bow of his head as a respectful endearment. 'Hej' he nodded as he locked eyes with mine, flicking his irises down my body quickly. 'Hej…' I replied uncertainly. I could feel my mother's fingernails dig into my side as a warning, I knew what she was saying, behave. 'Your husband said you might be able to show me where my crew and I might be able to find resources to refresh ourselves' he politely enquired. His eyes flicked to mine twice in his short sentence. 'Where have you come from son?' My mother questioned, acknowledging his youthful stature. 'We have come from Greenland…my name is Leif Erikson' directing his gaze toward me when he said his name. 'Well Leif Erikson, from the looks of your appearance, you have had an eventful journey' she said, almost mothering the young stranger. 'Most people have retired for the evening, but you and your friends may come to our home for a hot meal'. 'That would be most appreciated' he sighed in relief, bowing his head again as a sign of respect.

My mother's arm unwound from my side, walking toward the seven others who stood at the gates of Kattegat. He nodded at his peers, then directed his gaze toward my own. 'I am Leif' he said, locking his gaze with my own, his mouth slightly ajar as if he expected to say something else. But nothing came out. 'You just said that' I retorted. 'You must have a name also?' He questioned, again his eyes flicking up and down, taking in the details of my face…as if he wasn't close enough already. I answered with silence, taking him in, and squinting my eyes back. 'TAKE HIM BACK TO THE HOUSE ELSKAN' my father called from the ports. 'Elskan' he repeated, giggling at the pet name. I turned on my heels, stalking back toward the gates of Kattegat. 'Come on Greenlander' I called, pacing at least ten feet in front of him.

The Greenlanders slurped greedily at the hot stew, as they sat close to the fiery pot, basking in the heat it omitted. It was as if they hadn't eaten in days, they just seemed to eat more and more until the wooden spoon was scraping the edges of the pot. 'Please excuse our gluttony, I hope we have not eaten you out of house and home' Leif kindly stated. My mother chuckled 'Not at all, we are happy to help'. I sat on one side of the iron pot, as Leif sat opposite. I watched intently as he ate, his eyes simply staring back at me, occasionally smiling to himself as he scooped more of the steaming stew into his mouth. His lips slightly curled upward. 'What?' I said, shrugging my shoulders. 'Y/N' my mother hissed. Leif raised his eyebrow, humour, and satisfaction in his expression. 'Y/N…pretty name' he said. 'Twas my mother's name' my mother said satisfied at the compliment, her cheeks a slight blush to them.

The main door creaked open, and Jarl Haakon walked into the house, skin glowing a gentle orange tinge with the evening candlelight. 'Jarl Haakon' my mother fussed, standing up as she entered the room. 'Do not let me disturb you Estreya, I'm not here because of Y/N, I have come to meet the visitors' she said, striding into the room, yet still giving her coat to mother as she walked in. My mother visibly relaxed at the fact that the Jarl was not here for me…this time. The Greenlanders stood to attention, noting the Jarl's grand stature. 'Please, let us sit'.

The candle wax slowly melted to nubs as the Greenlanders told a tale of their voyage across the dangerous seas. But their tale did not answer what the Jarl truly wanted to know. 'Why have you come to Kattegat?' She questioned. Leif flicked his eyes to mine, before reaching down into his coat, unravelling a piece of paper to reveal a drawing, handing it to the Jarl, directing his gaze back at her. 'We are looking for a Viking who wears this cross' he said. She inspected the piece of paper, the Greenlander with long golden locks particularly eager to hear what the Jarl made of this information. Jarl Haakon sighed…the blonde girl's shoulders dipping low in disappointment. 'I do not know of anyone, but Kattegat is a place that worships the Pagan Gods, the true Gods. Anyone wearing something like this will certainly stand out from the crowd' she said, giving hope to the Greenlander's quest.

The Jarl Rose from her stool, walking toward the door. 'Who did you say your father was?' She questioned, directing her gaze at Leif. 'Erik' he said. 'Erik is my father also' the blonde girl stated. Jarl Haakon turned her attention back to the group, satisfied by their answer. 'Your father was once a great friend to me. A very strong warrior, but a very lively temper…' she smirked, directing her gaze at me. 'Freydis, my half-sister' he motioned, introducing her to us Kattegat natives. 'I hope you are both as skilled in combat as your father?' She questioned. 'Freydis is the more talented shield-maiden, I myself am more of an explorer, I am more comfortable on a ship than I am with a weapon' he humbly spoke. The Jarl particularly took interest in the first part of his sentence. 'Well Freydis, you must come and show me your skills' she said, a slight giddiness in her voice. The Jarl dramatically raised her arm slowly, her mouth forming a satisfied smile, then pointing her finger at me. 'Y/N, here, will bring you to my private training grounds for training in the morning, you can show me your skills then'. Freydis directed her gaze toward me for the first time, like her brother, glancing up and down my figure as if assessing her competition. The Jarl walked toward the door but turned to make one more announcement. 'If you are anything like your father, you may one day be a great leader for the shieldmaidens.'

I could feel my mother's gaze burning into my soul, telepathically trying to communicate 'BEHAVE'. But my relaxed figure visibly turned tense, my shoulders moving deeply, my chest rising and falling. Freydis let out a slight chuckle at my change in demeanour. 'We should go' Leif quickly announced, the tension in the room obvious. 'Where will you go?' Mother asked concerned as Leif rushed to put his thick coat back on. 'We will sleep on our ship' he said, grabbing Freydis by the forearm, ushering the Greenlanders out the door before mother could protest. 'Thank you for your hospitality' he said, shoving the other Greenlanders out the door in front of him. 'Freydissss' I heard him hiss, an undertone of growl, as they walked back toward the dock.

'You will be nice to that girl' mother retorted as she gathered the empty bowls. A scoff emitted from my mouth followed by a groan of displeasure. 'You have caused the Jarl enough trouble as it is, please Y/N, for me, just do as you're told' she almost begged. 'Urgh, fine' I groaned, taking the bowls from her hands to put them in the water pale to soak. I never meant to cause my family so much trouble, nor the Jarl Haakon either. Growing up, I was always destined to be a warrior. Not like I had a choice in the matter, it was something that was always expected of me. Mother and Father were triumphant, but they settled down after we were born. The Jarl however always said she wasn't going to let that talent go to waste, and so she always made sure that I knew that I was going to be a shield maiden. Offering private lessons, making me clean weapons from childhood until an age where I was old enough to wield my own. I had become what they made me. Why was everyone always so annoyed with me? What they made me?

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

'Hej' an unfamiliar voice spoke, prodding at my sleeping side. 'Get up' the voice demanded, now rigorously shaking my shoulder. I grabbed the wrist of the person, digging my thumb into its centre 'ah, stop' the voice hissed. 'You have a lot of nerve coming into my home and demanding things' I snarked as my eyes fluttered open. 'Yeah well your Jarl wants us both to go train with her, opportunities don't appear like that in Greenland, and I'm not letting some anybody ruin that for me' she stated, ripping the blanket from my body. I sat up, my back and joints clicking loudly, slightly alarming Freydis. I smirked, holding her gaze 'this is what hard work sounds like Greenlander' I remarked. Freydis stood at the bottom of my mattress, throwing the clothes from my stool at me. 'Really? I wouldn't have been able to tell' she retorted. 'But then again…your Jarl did basically call me the more talented shield-maiden, and all I was doing was eating stew' she snarked.

My stomach turned to fire.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

The training grounds were relatively quiet this morning. But then again, for once I didn't have Jarl Haaken yelling and barking orders at me. Instead this morning her time and attention were being taken up by Freydis. I kneeled in the corner, sharpening my axes as I tried to ignore the praises Jarl Haaken directed at the Greenlander, and that of her father.

The morning continued relatively peacefully until a young boy came running up the hill bounding towards the Jarl. 'Jarl….Haaken….' He said in between deep breaths as his pink cheeks rose and fell in exhaustion. 'The King of Denmark….lots of boats….he's here'. The puzzled look on the Jarl's face indicated her surprise at the arrival. 'Freydis, Y/N, you both will stay here, everyone else is to follow me' she said, her cloak swishing at her feet as she turned around, taking the young boy by the hand with her down the hillside.

'What does the King of Denmark want in Kattegat?' Freydis questioned. 'Well seeing as you are the Jarl's new best friend, why don't you tell me?' I sarcastically snarked back. 'Well, well well, the little Elskan is jealous' she taunted. It wasn't her comment that got to me, it was her annoying laugh, satisfied at her own, unoriginal, wordplay. 'Tell you what, why don't we fight right here, right now, and we can put this jealousy behind us' she said, a hint of excitement in her voice.

The swing of my axe thrust from my arm as I swung my weapon toward her body. She jumped back, taken by surprise at the immediateness of movement. She ducked to the ground, swooping her leg underneath my feet. My bottom shattered against the ground as she reached for a discarded sword. I stood up immediately as did she, circling one another. She roared, her feet moving as if it were a meticulously choreographed dance, moving from my front to my back skilfully, thrusting the hilt of her sword into the small of my back. My body arched forward in response to the stinging pain. With my axe in hand, I dipped back, bridging my back as my legs stayed sturdy on the ground. Skilfully I swung the axe in a circle above my body, tactfully thumping the blunt poll of the axe against her thigh. Another roar emitted from her, this time, a painful cry. I put my hands down, kicking my legs back, tumbling over so I was now on all fours. The sound of her sword clanging against the rocks as her body slammed into mine. Hair pulled, kicks, punches, tumbling on the ground, desperately crying to get the upper hand. As I pushed my body atop hers, mounting my weight to pin her down, Freydis's arm reached to the side, and within seconds, a blade was at my neck. I quickly reached into my boot, pinning my pocket knife to her neck. 'Give up Elskan' she spat. 'You'll be dead before I give up Greenlander' I hissed back, my saliva spitting droplets down at her face.

Without warning, a pair of arms looped around my waist, pulling me back from Freydis. She sat up laughing as I struggled against whoever had me nestled into their chest, holding me for dear life. Freydis picked up her blade, chuckling menacingly to herself, before letting out a triumphant yell and running toward me. As quickly as I was whipped away, my body was now thrown to the ground. 'FREYDIS STOP' Leif's familiar voice yelled. 'MOVE BROTHER' she demanded. Leif grasped her wrist, holding her armed hand, not moving as she struggled slightly against him. She finally dropped her weapon. He sighed in relief taking in both our appearances. Her hair had mostly fallen out of its braid, a bruise forming on her temple. I could taste the metallic blood pouring from my split lip. We both took in deep breaths, almost huffing at one another. 'Jarl Haakon has sent me to get you both, she requests our presence in the great hall' he stated.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

The docks of Kattegat were fuller than usual, boats docking boats, the port almost struggling to keep them all in the water as the gentle swell of waves got rougher. The great hall was packed full, many of whom were unfamiliar to the usual population of Kattegat. Many of these people bearing symbols of Christ. Making our way to the front of the room, Jarl Haakon sat on her throne next to a man, his eyes as dark as his raven hair. 'Jarl Haakon' I announced. She stopped mid-conversation, her and her counterpart's eyes directing toward us, she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. 'I don't even want to know what happened Y/N' she stated bluntly, ignoring Freydis in a similar state of being. Muddied, bloody and bruised. 'Please, pay your respects to our guest, King Canute of Denmark she gestured. I gave a slight bow, but I couldn't guess what she wanted. Canute gave a slight nod of the head in response, but his gaze focused on the two Greenlanders in their unique style of dress.

'You are not from here?' Canute says to the Greenlanders. 'We are from Greenland' Freydis says, men in the hall gathering in, taking great surprise in her beauty. 'Their father was one of the greatest warriors I have ever met' Jarl Haakon stated, almost bragging to sell a prized pig. Canute nodded, his face taking great interest in the facts. 'And who is this?' Canute said, asking Jarl Haakon instead of the person in question standing right in front of him. Behave Y/N, Behave. 'She is one of my shield maidens in training' she answered. In training…that made me angry. I wasn't technically a shield maiden, but my labours had long since been exploited since childhood to serve the shield maidens with my every waking moment. I could hear a deep chuckle emit from Canute. He leaned forward in his seat, his forearm now resting on his knee, his other hand firmly grasping the armrest of his chair. 'this one' he pointed laughing 'this one has a fire in its belly' he chuckled.

Fuck this. I wasn't going to take this shit from some Christian. I rolled my eyes, turning on my heel, brushing my shoulders violently with Freydis. Canute continued to chuckle. 'Y/N' the Jarl shouted across the room, making the crowded hall silent. 'You will do for me a job' she demanded. I rolled my eyes, slowly turning around as the sea of Vikings parted like the tale of Moses and the red sea. I didn't step forward, instead simply crossed my arms in defence. Jarl Haakon took in a deep breath, clearly displeased with my attitude, which wasn't improving as Canute and Freydis exchanged smug looks. 'One year ago, to this day' she announced, addressing the entire room. 'A trust, an agreement, a sacred bond created BY THE GREAT RAGNAR LOTHBROK' she yelled, emitting cheers from the Vikings as they basked in the glory of their great forefather. 'Saint Brice's Day, a day of celebration, turned into an unjust and vicious murder of Vikings on the Saxon Land! Bloodshed, Murder, but…not a defeat' she mustered, earning more cheers from the crowd. 'We will gather Vikings across our seas, WE WILL BUILD A GREAT ARMY! WE WILL AVENGE OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS AND TAKE BACK WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY OURS' she exclaimed. The Vikings cheering louder than before. But I stood silent, tense. What did this mean for me?

'You Y/N will go to Kjorseyrr and gather all those who are able and willing to fight'. I could feel my stomach drop. 'Why can't somebody with the right…skill…go to Kjorseyrr?'. It was no secret, I was a warrior, I was not a sailor by any means. But when it was expected you would become a shield-maiden, why bother learning any other skill? She lifted her hand, and then took a moment to reflect before a satisfied smile came to her face. 'You will take the Greenlander with you' she answered satisfied. Fuck my life.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

'Just think of the positives Elskan' mother said soothingly as I lay on my straw mattress. 'At least Yrsa will be there when you get there' again trying to find anything to make me feel better about the whole situation. 'When do they want you to go?' She inquired. 'First thing in the morning' I responded in a mumble.

Our conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Father opened the door timidly, poking his head inside. 'Leif Erikson is here to see you' he said. I groaned. The last person I wanted to see right now or hear from was a Greenlander. 'If you don't come out, I'll send him in' father threatened. My mother gave a gentle but loving swat to my bottom like she did when I was a child. Like a person does to a horse as a way to say hurry up. I dragged my feet along the floor, making sure the Greenlander knew of my displeasure at seeing him. 'Hej' he said. I nodded in response. 'The breeze outside is going to get stronger, a dark cloud comes from the west' he explained, all three of us listening intently. 'We should go today, now even, so we get as smooth a ride as possible' he explained. 'W..why don't you just go' I questioned, standing firm in my spot, crossing my arms in front of me. 'Well I don't know anyone on this Kjorseyrr island you speak of' he said humorously, taking pleasure in stating the obvious. 'You'll get there in time for supper' mother emitted cheerfully, grabbing a thick coat from its hook on the wall, and thrusting it overtop of me before pushing me toward the door. 'We will see you very soon Elskan' father said shutting the door behind us. I stood by the door, stomach aching. Leif stood staring, his lip curling up into a slight smile. 'Coming shield-maiden?'.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

The dock was deserted as Kattegat had gone home for the evening. The boats and ships were docked in the port securely to protect them from the oncoming bad weather. 'Maybe we should just do this another day' I said seeing the rip of the waves roughly spit upon the shore. 'Come on, it shall be a quick trip' he turned to the west pointing at the sky 'see those clouds. There will be a short break of rain before the rain comes, we will be fine coming back, it will be a relatively smooth trip' he said, satisfied with the departing of his knowledge.

'If anything happens Greenlander, just know I have no issue at all killing you' I said sternly. He seemed to smirk at the threat, before really looking at me to realise I was completely serious. 'Well, we best get a move on' he said uncomfortably, walking down the dock to a small row boat. 'Why don't we take a bigger vessel?' I questioned. 'This will be perfectly fine' he said as he jumped into the row boat, it wobbling underneath him. The unbalanced rock at his feet did not at all seem to phase him. I stood at the edge of the dock, my feet firmly bound to the floor as I inspected the blackened clouds that slowly moved across the sky. My body, before was fine, but now breaking into a cold sweat. I could feel the anxiety rising to my chest as my breaths became deep and shallow, not seeming to reach my lungs at all. 'Coming?' He questioned, his eyes squinting up at me, unsure of my stature. I looked back at him, nothing but a blank stare. He stood below, still unfazed by the motions beneath him, simply holding his hand up, palm outstretched as an invitation for my hand to nestle in his. I stared down at his hand, gently reaching to grasp my palm in his.

But it was not to be, I could feel my fingers shake as they gently brushed against his own, but everything in me told me to pull away. I knew I couldn't do this.

'You're afraid' he said in a questioning manner, but more matter of factly. I didn't respond, instead turning to face away from the tiny vessel against the wavy seas that sent shivers down my spine. 'The vicious shield-maiden is afraid of water' he cautioned. 'Everyones afraid of something Greenlander' I hissed through my teeth. 'Yes but most people who do value life, whereas you don't seem to' he remarked, almost correcting me. 'Who said I didn't value life?' I scolded in retaliation. 'Well…you tried to kill my sister, you threatened to kill me, I saw you at training. You're vicious, a cold-blooded killer…Viking' he retorted. I turned around, a gaze to kill as my nostrils flared. 'Everyone who lives has to die…what's the point of trying to challenge that? What's the point of caring' I forewarned. Leif responded with a smile, a short laugh emitting. Most people found the topic of death dire, so why was he laughing? He shifted his weight, putting his hands on his hips as he shook his head. 'What?' I forewarned. 'If you do not fear or care about death, then why will you not just get in the boat? You're afraid of something, which means there's something you value' he teased. I turned around, my eyes fixated on the movement of waves that swooshed loudly, threateningly. My heart was beating so loud, Leif could probably hear it over the swells. With one of his feet firmly placed in the boat, he reached his arms up, lightly crusted palms, the roughness of its touch evident. 'Fuck' I groaned, leaning into his touch as his hands wrapped cautiously around my waist, lifting me with ease, placing me close within his grasp as I landed on the boat. Our eyes flickered, as our noses nearly brushed against one another. A nervous squeal escaped as the boat rocked at the new distribution of weight. Leif's arm wrapped around the small of my back, pulling me closer into his firm hold. My chest pressed up against his as his other hand reached for the ore. His eyes flickered down my body once again, so I took a step back distancing myself from his touch.

'Your fingers will bleed if you keep gripping the sides of the boat like that' Leif said aimlessly. I could feel every swoosh of every bumpy wave beneath us, splinters digging into my fingers, and the smell of salt against the wood. The salty water splashed at the already salty cold sweat that bore from my cheeks. Nauseous at the feeling of an empty stomach, but as Leif continued to row, more kept coming up. Leif, however, was not phased by my sickness, nor alarmed by the movement of the boat. 'There's no need to panic shield-maiden, we can still see land' he said as if it were meant to be of comfort. 'I can't swim' I sternly yelled back. He brought the ores into the boat, relaxing as he leant back against the side of the boat, his arms resting outstretched across the frame. 'W..wh. why have you stopped?' I managed through chattering teeth. He smiled 'there's no use, the current is going where we want it, it will take us there. No use wasting energy'. His body locked on mine, his eyebrows raised in concern. Without hesitation, Leif stood up, and walked across the boat, sitting on the seat next to me. His legs thigh pressed against mine as he nestled himself into the small space. His body pushed mine slightly more to the side as I sat frozen. A gentle brush of fingers pulled the loose strands behind my ear as I averted my gaze to the puddle of water at my feet. 'So' he said, leaning forward so his forearms rested on his thighs, trying to catch my gaze in his. 'Why are you afraid?' He asked quizzically. I shook my head in response.

'I'll tell you what I'm afraid of if you'll tell me why you're afraid of water' he gently offered. I didn't respond, simply took in a deep breath to try to combat nausea. 'I'm afraid of being like my father' he stated, looking toward the horizon. I just nodded, enough to acknowledge his attempt at conversation. My body still shaking. 'He was a very vicious man. No mercy, no guilt, no fear, his anger got the better of him a lot' he said, almost as if confessing some dark secret. 'I don't see life the way he did, how people still do' he said with a smirk, gently pushing his knee into my thigh. 'But you have fear, he didn't, which means deep down… there's a good heart in you too'. 'Well as you said, I tried to kill your sister' I retorted, scared and frustrated with the conversation. 'See you and Freydis hate each other because you are too alike' he said. 'We're both merciless killers?' I exclaimed breathlessly. 'You're both strong shield-maidens, but you have a fear, you care about life and death more than you think you do'.

I scoffed at the notion. I didn't want to be known as a merciless killer. I wasn't. I was just a shield maiden, a Viking who was serving their purpose. 'You seem to know so much about me when I've said so little' I frustratingly yelled. 'What gives YOU people, AND NOT JUST YOU GREENLANDER, ANYONE! THE RIGHT TO TELL ME WHO I AM'. Leif leaned back, putting his hands up in defence. 'I'm sorry…I didn't mean to offend you' he said apologetically. Before I could respond, the fire in my stomach turned to churn as I leaned over the side of the boat, the contents of what was left in my already empty stomach pushing its way out of my body. A pair of hands came to my ears, pulling my hair back loosely as my hair was scrunched back. A gentle rubbing up and down my back. I liked that feeling. Yrsa always used to get me to sleep that way when we were young and shared a bed. It was the feeling of home…of safety…of love.

'I wasn't always like this you know…' I almost whispered. Leif nodded in response, enough to show he was engaged in conversation, but smart enough to realise that listening would be better than talking at this moment. 'When Yrsa and I were younger…she developed much quicker, and she got a lot of attention because of her looks'. As I concentrated on the memory, nausea began to cease. 'One night, when our mother and father were at the council meeting, Yrsa and I were in bed, when someone came into our room and ripped the covers off us.' I could feel my breath shaking 'Yrsa had rejected a young man's advances, very publicly, and he didn't like that. He came in and demanded that Yrsa either accept his proposal or be forced to'. Leif tensed, possibly more than I did. He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue the story. 'I was afraid, she was screaming. Nobody came. Even before, when I was young and innocent, people still told me that I was going to be a fierce shield maiden…that I was destined to protect Kattegat and its people.' I felt a gentle squeeze to my knee as my voice became shallower the more detail I told. 'There were so many people I didn't want to disappoint…I was scared but even in a private space, my actions felt so…so public…If I did nothing, then people would call me a coward, and I wouldn't be what everyone wanted me to be. If I did, then I would be…so I grabbed one of the weapons from my father's chest…and that's when I stopped putting so much value on life and death'. Leif nodded, simply sitting there as he processed the story. 'You're not a monster Y/N' he said as he sat contently staring at the sea ahead.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

With Kjorseyrr in sight, I finally felt like I could breathe. I was comforted to see Baldrs boat securely tied on the rickety makeshift dock. It had been years since I had been to Kjorseyrr, and for obvious reasons, I never could bring myself to visit. I could almost kiss the ground. Land, sweet sweet land.

As we approached the farmland, the place seemed unusually deserted. The sky turned a dark grey as the strong gusts of wind blew over the crops. Kjorseyrr was usually busy as farmers spent all waking hours of their days tending to the crops. Only something really bad was enough to make the farmers justify leaving their farms unattended. All the doors to the huts and homes were firmly bolted shut…this was certainly an unnatural sight. Baldr and Yrsa's home lay on the other side of the small peninsular off the coast of Kattegat. Like everyone else on Kjorseyrr, their farm was deserted and the door was firmly shut. I looked back at Leif to see him giving me the same confused glare back. I clutched the handle of the hunting knife in my grasp, which visibly made Leif uncomfortable. 'Calm-down shield-maiden' he whispered. I turned around knife in hand with the blade facing his direction. 'This is not normal.' I stated, finalising the quick conversation. I wearily pounded on the door of the hut, but there was no answer. I pounded on the door again, only to hear the loud cry of an infant, quickly being muted. 'YRSA' I yelled, continuing to pound on the door. 'El…Elskan?' Her voice cried through chattering teeth. The door flung open, Baldr quickly hurrying me inside, only to grip his sword at the hilt at the sight of Leif. 'He's fine, Baldr, he came with me'. Baldr looked at Leif, still unsure of whether to let the stranger in. 'We were sent together by Jarl Haakon'. This was enough to convince him, but he still had his eyes locked on the stranger from across the seas.

Yrsa sat tucked in the corner of the hut, both Ulrik and Vali protectively tucked into her sides, and an infant clutched firmly in her grasp. 'When?' I asked curiously. 'Last night' she said, but instead of a smile or joy at the new babe, she shed tears of distress. Her body shook slightly, and she clutched her children tight to her, Baldr protectively guarding the door. 'What's its name?' I asked. I wish I could show more enthusiasm, but life was life, and death was death. 'Her name is Edda' she said, her voice still shaking even at departing the happy news. 'What's going on?' I asked slightly loudly, only to be shooshed by Yrsa. 'Where is everyone?' I asked in a whisper.

'Some men came last night, just moments after Edda was born' Baldr explained in a hushed tone, either to keep the children from hearing, or it was distressing for him to talk about it. 'Who?' I asked eagerly, anger beginning to wash over me. 'Christians' he whispered as if it were a forbidden word. 'Christians?' Leif repeated, taking great interest in what Baldr had to say. Leif reached into his coat, hurrying to gather whatever it was. 'Did anyone bear this cross?' He eagerly questioned. 'I can't be certain, they all wore things similar, but it is possible one did' he exclaimed with a shaking breath. 'What did they want?' I asked. 'Bloodshed'.

The Christians had come to Kjorseyrr, self-proclaimed Vikings, but they had not come for peaceful reasons. Similarly to Kattegat, Kjorseyrr was populated mostly by Pagans. Kjorseyrr, however, did not have the protection or security that Kattegat did. Kjorseyrr had always existed as a peaceful farming settlement, visitors were regular, but trouble was not. They came in the night, no less than 10, no more than 20. They came with vengeance, with sticks of fire, threatening to burn down people's entire livelihoods if people did not accept the will of Christ as their lord and saviour. A crazed man, bald with a long beard, bushy eyebrows with eyes that had nothing but darkness to them. But his intentions were not peaceful as the Christians so readily preached. A soulless man, a vengeance for murder. He was not looking to battle, he was looking to kill. Across the way, many houses had been burnt, the smell of crisp sordid maze fields that had once been blooming and plentiful in crop now shed to nothing. 'Life is life, death is death' that's all I had to say.

'What did the Jarl send you both here for?' Baldr questioned. 'The King of Denmark has arrived with an army in Kattegat' Leif explained, sitting around the fire pit. 'King Canute? He's a Christian, what does he want from us?' Baldr questioned. 'Vikings from all over are going to the Saxon land, to avenge the Saint Brice's Day massacre'. Leif seemed uncomfortable talking about the King's plan to avenge the death of those in England, while Baldr nodded, Yrsa kept silent. 'Was there anyone out there?' Yrsa whispered, but I shook my head. She looked at Baldr, they exchanged a look of relief but at its core, there was still fear.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

Yrsa and Baldr stood close, walking across Kjorseyrr, to check on their community. Leif held my hunting knife, Baldr a sword, my trusty axe. I was clearly the more confident of the group, keeping a few paces forward. Kjorseyrr was still barren. Crops were destroyed, some structures partially burnt, and one even completely to ash. Discarded pales and the rotting flesh of a few animals let out a putrid stench. Across the peninsula, however, things were far worse. In the distance on the sandy shore of the seafront, multiple large wooden crosses had been erected. Raindrops began to spit from the grey skies, there was no going back to Kattegat tonight. The waves violently brushed up on the shore, crashing against the newly decorated beach. We continued closer to see what the Christians had left.

A piercing scream emitted from a woman standing by the beach. The four of us ran, Leif swiftly getting to her as she fell back distraught at what she had seen. The rockpools and sand by her feed ran red, painting the beach scarlet. The blood ran down the sand, pooling at the base of each cross. Baldr and Yrsa wearing stood next to the inconsolable woman as she cried and screamed. I followed the trail of blood, circling around the crucifix pillars to find the source of the blood. I looked up, squinting my eyes through the heavy rain at the multitude of crosses. Bodies of men, women, and children hung on the crosses, held up by large metal pins whacked tightly into their palms. I had seen death, I had seen bodies, I had been at the hands of someone's life…but I'd never seen anything so gruesome.

This was more than bloodshed, this was evil.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

Peaceful fucking Christians my arse. A Christian Viking, really whoever of our forefathers would have let such a thing happen. Peaceful, merciful, charitable, passive, CHRISTIANS. I let out screams through the howling whistling wind as my axe blew off course, missing the tree trunk again. Yrsa, Baldr and Leif retreated into the hut at the signs of boiling anger that rose from within me as we walked back to the hut.

Never had I felt such hatred for anyone. An inconsolable rage, after a feeling of guilt, hopelessness and sorrow washed over me as I first saw those innocent people. Pagans were murdered and crucified. Children. Looking up at those young faces pinned to the crosses, all I could see were Ulrik and Vali's faces. But these were people I did not know but for once the fragility of life…innocent life…

I could see Yrsa peeping through the crack of the door, watching my cold, damp body, drenched by the storm that finally settled over Kjorseyrr. Flashes of light and cracks of thunder raged in the distance. Thor's mighty hammer cracked over the seas, the wind whistling as it swirled. Another throw of the axe, another miss. I screamed in anger, frustration…I couldn't get the image out of my head. 'E..Elskan' her weary voice sounded, frightening me as I turned around, the clutch of my fist colliding with the side of her face. Yrsa thudded to the ground.

'Y..Yr…Yrsa…I I I, I didn't mean to' I repeated, desperation in my hollow voice. I dropped to my knees in front of her, axe still in hand, her body flailing as she backed away. 'Y/N YOU CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE' she desperately yelled. A weight sunk down on my shoulders, forcing my hands down on the ground as hot tears streamed down my face, a cry so sullen, so pleading. Yrsa gathered her drenched self from the ground, and stormed into the hut, slamming the door behind her. I stayed on the ground…I hadn't cried so much in my life. Not only was I some merciless Viking, but I had hurt the one person closest to me in this world.

⊰ ……………………… ⊱

'I used to fight with Freydis like that…still do from time to time' a voice sounded from behind. The sky was now black, the rain easing to a misty coat over Kjorseyrr. 'I didn't mean to' I whispered. I could feel the tears, now dried on my cheeks, my lip bleeding at the intensity I had bitten down on my bottom lip. Snot hanging from my nose. I could feel Leif's presence as he kneeled down next to me, taking a seat on the muddy ground. 'I don't want to be like that' I whispered, almost begging. 'Everyone thinks I am, so I just became what everyone expected of me…and now I've just seen this…' my voice cracked, tears falling again. My body shook at the intensity of the feeling. I couldn't tell what this emotion was, but for once…it wasn't anger. 'Hey…hey, hey' his voice comforted as a gentle whisper, I could feel his arms wrap around my body. I leant into his touch. His thick coat swiped across my nose, cleaning my face with the sheds of fabric from his jumper. 'Why don't you just run away like everyone else?' I choked out. I could feel a slight chuckle emit as his chest pressed against my body. 'Because you care, you're not like what they say Y/N…you're not some Erik the red or Ivar the Boneless' he said as he stroked my hair down with his enormous hands. 'What those Christians did, that will never be you'. I sobbed at his touch, his grace, his forgiveness. 'Christians did something bad to Freydis once, long ago, she is filled with hate and seeks justice' he explained as if relieving a heavy weight off his chest. 'But, when the anger is gone, and the hate is replaced…it is hard to say if she will be truly content' he sighed. 'I am not like my sister…but do you think I am weak?' He questioned. I shook my head furiously. Leif was a fearless explorer, he didn't need to kill or fight to prove his worth as a Viking. 'You are chasing the legacies of people before you…your mother and father do not fight as much anymore, do you think they are weak?'. Again, I furiously shook my head. 'Yrsa doesn't fight, is she weak?' My answer the same.

He leaned down, cupping my hot, flushed cheeks in both his hands, forcing me to look at him through glassy eyes. 'Then Y/N, we will not be what people want us to be. We will make our own destinies' he whispered. His hot breath breathed onto my lips. The tip of our noses touched as they brushed against one another. Everything in me told me to pull away…but I didn't want to.

So I didn't.

[introverted-imagineer]

Requests

Hey fellow Imagineers and Bibliophiles! Thank you so much for the support, I'm glad to see other people are enjoying reading the silly little stories from my head. I thought I'd try my hand at it, if anyone had any requests for stories/other fandoms then feel free to send me a message as I'm looking for some inspiration!

Happy Reading!

[introverted-imagineer]

Triumph and Tribulations

Part 14

Warnings: Death, Violence, Language, Smut, Slavery Themes

‘God has a plan for you’. That’s what they preached. The irony of it all is when you inevitably make human mistakes or errors, you sinned against God because he doesn’t make any mistakes. He is faultless by all accounts, yet the men ordained by God himself are the biggest sinners of all. God certainly has an interesting sense of humour. Stood back at the beginning of all this mess, being ordered around by angry kitchen ladies as they silently cursed at the presence of the ‘Viking whore’ and ‘how dare she show her face back here’ whilst complaining that they had not enough help to serve the feast the newly deemed King Canute had ordered for the evening. Pheasants, pigs, cheeses, bread, apples, turnips, any food one could desire. They were pulling out all the stops tonight for such sinful, horrid guests they seemingly despised.

These kitchen ladies, ladies maids, servants, chambermaids, and Viking thralls stood around the bustling kitchens, silently spitting at each other. Kitchen ladies always thought they were above everyone though…at least they got paid.

God has a plan for you my ass. If he had a plan, why was it to drag me across the seas, submit me to torture, slavery and multiple close calls to death, only to place me back at the centre of where these last months all began? God’s plan was faultless, but it was my fault for being taken prisoner, for letting the Vikings use me as they pleased. The only thing in the eyes of my fellow people to change was, that even though I had survived the constant pushback, I was now without a doubt in their eyes, a Viking whore. If being the daughter of a concubine wasn’t shameful enough, more so that the bastard child of a concubine, a Viking whore was the lowest stain on humanity. I never had a chance from the beginning, and now even more so there was nowhere I was going to fit in. Not in the Viking world, not in the Saxon world. God’s perfect plan certainly seemed to exclude me.

The snide remarks from kitchen maids didn’t escape me, no matter how subtle they thought they were being. Refusing to make eye contact, pushing through the thin gaps and the hot oven shoving me toward the flame without care as if I were invisible, spitting and stomping at my feet. Before all this, the very least I had was being called a ‘child’. As demeaning as that was, compared to now, I didn’t realise how good I had it.

Looking toward the large wooden oak door, I quietly retreated for the exit, there was nothing I could do of use here, I wasn’t trying, but they certainly wouldn’t want to let me touch anything. Before I could reach the door, the rumbling of hundreds of pairs of feet rumbled the door on its hinges. The floor itself seemed to shake beneath us. Women screamed, some dropping the bowls or platters in their hands, adding to the noise of commotion coming from the other side of the doors. A moment of panic turned to dead silence as everyone froze in their tracks, bodies trembled, hands shook, and stuttered prayers silently whispering in exasperated hushed voices. The sounds got louder and the sounds of footsteps began to clang their weapons on the ground, deep heavy grunts of cheering as Vikings shouted, pridefully basking in their triumph at taking over one of the world's most notable superpowers. But what made them happy was how easily and quickly it had come to them. But even I, an uneducated, bastard, child of a concubine, and now Viking whore, was wise enough to know that this triumph would only be temporary. That was one thing Saxons had in common with the Vikings. Saxons, too, were not a forgiving breed.

The roars, stomps and clanging continued to emit from the corridor outside, unmistakably making their way to the heart of the castle. The grand dining room. The flow of foot traffic was much larger than that that showed face at the beginning of the morn when Canute so brazenly diminished the character of his rival King. I didn’t pity the fear of the cruel kitchen people around me, but I did selflessly worry about the backlash we would receive if there wasn’t enough food to go around. That’s one thing you got to credit the Vikings for, they certainly knew how to throw a feast. ‘We are going to need a lot more food’ I cautiously announced. Instead of facing backlash, cursing and even physical repercussions I was expecting, everyone in the kitchens simply nodded to themselves as they stood stuck in fear. Rolling up the sleeves of my muddy underdress, I went toward the fruit, grabbed one of the knives from the hands of a shaking kitchenmaid and began chopping. Soon enough, the kitchen was bustling again.

Canute effortlessly captures the attention of the room, almost demanding it, yet without even having to try. As he stood at his round table, after a moment of cheering, clapping, and metal steins filled with meads, wines, and liquid splashing their contents as the men banged them against the table tops in support of their victorious King. Canute basked in the glory, before silently putting his hands up, and the room went quiet. “We have won a great victory. Saint Brice’s Day and the spilled blood of our kinfolk has been avenged!” He announced, met with equally as enthusiastic cheers as before. Canute continued to mock and belittle the young King, having his army of men ‘toast his bravery’. Sincere in tone, disparaging at its core. In a grand gesture, he motioned to the oak doors, announcing the entry of Queen Emma. She strode in, dressed in black, a show of mourning. Who had died who she actually cared about? Who knows. Canute so graciously held his hand out, Emma cautiously taking it as he eloquently escorted her to the round table at the head of the dining hall. He seemed as equally as charismatic, chivalrous, even slightly as lustful as Mathilda, as he tended to the Queen. Harald, King Edmund, and Leif all sat in silence, watching Canute, everyone unsure of his next move, his intentions, his ambition…

The feast continued for hours into the night as we working people stood to the sides, our heads down, walking as if we were invisible, filling up goblets, ignoring the touches of drunkard men, both from the alcohol and drunk on their victorious state of being in time. The men closer to the round table were more cautious as Harald’s gaze ceased to avert my movements. Canute studiously watched Harald while attending to a conversation with the Queen. As the food gradually disappeared, Canute rose again, without effort commanding the attention of all in the dining hall. I stood between rows of Vikings sitting at the table, daring not to move as he began to speak. “Our honoured guest from the North, the Ealdorman of Mercia, Eadric Streona, who will always have my gratitude for holding back his army”. He praised his guest from the North, and Streona enjoyed it. Whilst it was clear everyone at that round table was alert, Streona absently sat with comfort and ease. No fear, no doubt, no uncertainty. Canute continued his uplifting speech, congratulating everyone at the table before his speech took an unexpected twist. “New beginnings cannot happen with a traitor in our midst”. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach, and without thought, the sound of silver clanged against the ground as my grip on the pitcher unclenched from around the handle. Everyone directed their gaze to me, and I could feel myself begin to sweat.

The time had come. A traitor in our midst. Who led them to this moment in time? Who had advised the King to now build these erroneous and fraudulent alliances with the Saxon King and Queen? Who had given them the crucial information to give the Viking army everything they needed to get into the castle? Who then fled? Me. Now everyone was going to know, and I wouldn’t be able to stop. The King chuckled to himself, shouting towards the door as a Viking kicked the door open from the opposing side of the door, rolling in a wooden tree stump holding an axe. The sound of a chair scraped, turning the attention back to the round table, where Harald cautiously stood to attention, breaths slow and heavy as he directed his pupils between mine and Canute’s. Canute chuckled to himself, almost enjoying the sudden tension that appeared between the three of us. The Vikings stood to attention, some even climbing on the wooden pillar of seats to get a better view of the traitor and the fate they were about to meet. The Viking handed the axe to Canute, and he walked forward toward the crowd, toward me, almost suppressing a smile. I locked my eyes with Harald, as he instinctively directed his back at mine. “The stench of betrayal and threat” he continued, walking slowly into the crowd, closer toward me at an agonisingly slow pace. “I can smell their ambition” he taunted. “I can smell disloyalty”. Another step closer, “I can smell their…greed” another step… My eyes were now locked with the King as he stood in front of me, with his axe. I closed my eyes, feeling his breath on my own. The sound of footsteps pounded across the floor, and I could feel them coming up behind me. Canute’s rough, callous finger tauntingly swiped the single tear that trickled down my cheek. But the heavy bodies instead pushed past me, shoving my body into the King’s as I took in a gasp of shock. His hand purposefully and slowly wrapped around the small of my back, his hand nestling into the right side of the curve of my waist. Canute’s forehead pressed against mine, rotating his body to nestle into my side, his cheek then pressed against mine as he averted his face back to the front of the room. “STOP! STOP! MY MEN WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS” A shocked gasp almost leaped out of the deepest part of my lungs, my breathing heavy, fast-paced, uncontrollable. I finally opened my eyes to see the source of the footsteps now dragging Eadric Streona from his chair, the Kings cheek still pressed against mine, chuckling to himself, before pressing a firm, yet wet kiss to my flushed cheek, walking toward the wooden tree stump which the men firmly held Streona down upon.

All attention was averted to the scene at the front of the room, enough to ignore my body as it fell to the ground, my hands clutching my stomach whilst the other went to cover my mouth as I stifled my cries. Cheers continued the screams of Saxon women. The world around me had gone fuzzy, time had passed, and Canute now stood victoriously and undisturbed as he held the now dismembered head of Eadric Streona. Gruesome, blood spilled everywhere, the trail from his body flooding around the bottom of my dress. As the Vikings cheered, Canute almost posing, and the round table silent and firmly sat in their places, I gathered myself into the crowd, and exited the hall through the back door, trailing down the hallway, bloody footsteps at my feet. I kept walking until I reached the small wooden door of one of the noblemen's bedrooms, all the way on the other side of the castle.

I slammed the door behind me, placing all my body weight against the door and sliding my back down it. The once warm blood of Streona was now cold and heavy at the bottom of the hem of my dress. I screamed. I cried. I let it all out.

I didn’t know how long I had been in the room, the curtains were drawn, but the wax from the candles hardly seemed to melt. As my senses started to come back to me I panned my gaze across the room. The candles were all lit, the grand bed had exotic silks and expensive furs draped over it, and fluffy pillows adorned the green fabric that lay across the bed. The room smelt of lavender, flushing out the metallic smell that had plagued my senses previously. Across the room, steam could be seen wafting from an unknown source behind a heavy wooden divider. I swiped my muddy, flour-laden sleeve across my nose as I used my other arm to gather my weight from the floor, stumbling over to the divider. Dragging my already battered feet across the cold floor. Behind the divider, a steaming golden tub sat, lavender sprigs floating at the top of the surface of the hot water. My gaze travelled down to my dress. Mud, salt water, flour, mead, and blood stained the once-cream cloth.

I gently brought my hand up, rubbing the tips of my fingers against my prominent collar bones, slipping two fingers underneath the shoulder seams of the dress, and tugging the fabric down off one side of my shoulder, doing the same to the other. The dress had naturally gotten looser as my once curvy figure was now practically skeletal. The dress dropped my shoulders, brushing over the curve of my breast, before the coarse fabric slid down my stomach, past my belly button, and pooled around my feet. The cool temperature caused the areola of my breasts to shrivel as my nipples hardened. The only thing protecting me from the coolness was the untamed body hair that covered my pubic bone, the hair on my arms and legs unwillingly rising to attention ins response to the cold air. I didn’t care whose room this was, who prepared the bath, who might have lit the candles or left a pitcher of liquid next to the bed. I was too numb to care. Cautiously and slowly, I picked my feet up, now standing atop the stained garment, ignoring the burning feeling of my bruised and exposed flesh, getting into the hot water, and dropping my body tirelessly into the steaming water.

The hot water blanketed my body, getting into all the nooks and crannies of my naked body. I submerged myself entirely, not caring about the stinging sensation that prickles my legs, not the feeling of pins and needles that pelted my body in response to the hot temperature compared to the cool air that circulated the room. Not caring that I couldn’t breathe. Lying in the water, not thinking about today, tomorrow, the past or the future. Simply basking in the state of being.

The hot temperature dropped to a comfortable warmth as I lay in the tub, letting my skin soak up the aromatic lavender. My ears swished as water filled my eardrums. Eyes closed, just stillness. I barely noticed the water level rise and overflow until I felt another pair of legs bump against my own. Shocked, I screamed at the sudden disturbance, only to have a large hand press against my lips, followed by a deep voice. “shhh” that all-so-familiar voice urged. I opened my eyes to see his naked, hairy, firm torso facing my naked plump breasts. Legs entwined with mine, the front of his calf bone gently pressed between my thighs as he comfortably tried to squeeze himself into the tub. Harald. My breasts gently brushed against his firm chest as we sat, pressed into one another in the tub. Months ago I was ashamed of my own nakedness, as I normally would be. I would have been especially horrified by the nakedness of a man normally, but at this moment, pressed against one another, both our bodies as weak and tired as each other, I didn’t care. He gently removed the palm of his hand, smoothing it onto the surface of my cheek, swiping his thumb across in a gentle motion over where Canute had placed his filthy kiss. Slightly leaning forward, Harald pressed his forehead against mine, almost short nervous breaths emitting from his mouth, even after such a victorious win. He dipped his face down, pressing a much more gentle kiss over my cheek, replacing Canute's sinister kiss with something much…sweeter. My chest slowly rose and fell as my breast pushed against him, gently brushing each other as my breaths got deeper and deeper. Soon our breaths moved in a rhythm that mirrored one another.

Eventually, our bodies separated, yet our legs stayed thoroughly intertwined as our backs pressed against opposite ends of the tub, resting as the warmth turned cooler, and the candles slowly began to shrink into stubs drowned in piles of melted wax. His arms, one draped over the sides of the tub, now gently grabbed my hands that floated on the surface of the water as I rubbed the lavender springs to powder between my fingers. He pulled my torso toward the centre of the tub, his chest meeting mine in the middle. My legs, once tucked up into myself, naturally untangled from his, draping on either side of his thighs as he shifted himself into the middle middle of the tub, pressing our foreheads together once again. I could feel the hardness of the flesh between his legs, gently pressing against the pulsing flesh between my legs. He guided my hands, bringing them up to his face, pressing the palms of my hands against his cheeks, then wrapping his forearms around the small of my back, pressing our pulsing bodies even closer against one another. We both let out breathy moans.

Gently he placed a kiss on my forehead, then one on the left cheek, then the right, a kiss on the curve of the left side of my neck, then the right, his cock pulsing against my plump cunt. He brought his head back, arms still firmly wrapped around my centre, flicking his gaze between my eyes and lips, slowly leaning in to seal the gap. Just as his lips reached mine, I took my hands away from his cheeks, pulling back, unwrapping his arms from my body, and standing up in the tub, using his shoulders to balance. He grunted at the sudden loss of our touching skin. But his eyes trailed from my feet, slowly taking in my body before his eyes met mine as I stared back down at him. “Get out” I firmly whispered. He looked at me confused, almost offended like he was being challenged. Refusing to move from his seat. “Get. Out” I reaffirmed. He slowly brought himself to a stand, not without agonisingly brushing his torso up my body, connecting our skin once more. I looked up as his height surpassed me, eyes locked, as he gently stepped over the side of the tub, onto the cold floor. Not breaking eye contact for a second, I did the same, standing in front of him. “Kneel” I ordered, again in a crisp, firm whisper. Eyes still on mine, he slowly knelt on the floor, his gaze now directed up at me as I looked down at him. Slowly and gently, I placed my hands on his cheeks, running my fingers through the sides of his hair. With a sense of urgency and roughness, he brought his hands to my sides wrapping them around my core, pulling me close as his lips hungrily pressed into my stomach, peppering kisses from my belly button down to my pubic bone, swiping his wet tongue and hot breath back up to my belly button, repeating the process. I hissed in response. It felt so wrong yet so right. ‘Viking…’ I whispered. ‘Saxon’ he responded in a raspy hot breath. His head dipped lower, and without hesitancy, he swiped his tongue against the pulsing core between my legs, his tongue dancing between my wet folds, his hands lowering to squeeze my bottom.

I gripped my fingers tighter in his thick curls as his tongue continued to dance, making me squirm as I stood, moaning at the exotic new pleasure that swept my body. The pulsating between my legs now radiated over my entire body. ‘Haarraalldd’ I moaned, gripped so tight I could almost feel my stubby nails pressing into his skull. He let out a gruff, reaching his arms under my thighs and forcing my legs over his shoulders. As if I weighed no more than a leaf, he rose from the ground, my feet lifting from the floor as his face was still nuzzled, kissing and licking my soaking cunt. His moans matched mine before my body went flying backward, hands still gripped in his hair as my back hit the centre of the feather bed. He kneeled at the edge of the bed, grabbing my hips and pulling my body towards his without breaking contact with my centre. His wet tongue lapped up all it could, his nose nuzzling at a sensitive spot that turned pleasure into ecstasy. I gripped the sheets, my knuckles turning white at the strength of my grip, my torso arching as my moans got faster and louder. My breaths got shorter, chest rising and falling ‘Ha.. Harald….I can’t take much more’ I exclaimed, squirming. Instead of stopping, he took one of his hands from my hip, slipping his finger inside. Involuntarily, my jaw clicked as the sensation caused my mouth to moan so loudly it could probably be heard from outside the room. ‘I…need…more…’ I breathlessly exclaimed.

Suddenly his lips started to kiss up my body, from my stomach to each breast, and neck, before pressing the side of his cheek to mine. ‘Are you sure you want more Saxon?’. I didn’t know how I could get more, but I knew I wanted it. ‘Please’ I breathed out. He slid his hand down, grabbing his hard flesh, his cock entering me in a swift push. I let out a gasp. It stung, his thick shaft wrapped up tightly as I involuntarily squeezed my insides against him. His hot breath coated my neck as he moaned at the tightness. I gently brought my hands down from his back down to his bottom. This was my doing, and I was going to take control. I firmly squeezed his cheeks, a sign to tell him it was okay to start moving. His hips thrust slowly as I used my firm grip on his behind to control the speed at which his thick cock pulsated in and out, penetrating my core to pleasures unknown. As his cock slipped inside me, I held his behind close, pulling him into me fully, making him stay. Our chests pressed against each other, skin to skin, nothing between. He brought his forehead to mine, rasping breath ‘Are you okay Saxon?’ He responded. For the first time, I lifted my head from the bed, capturing his lips in mine, with vigorous power and need. He continued to thrust as our lips fought one another most delightfully. His tongue slipped into mine, there was a sweetness to his taste. His thrusts became faster and faster, his moans turning to desperate grunts as I squeezed his behind in affirmation. His teeth captured my bottom lip, gently nibbling as his thrusts stopped. A warmth filled my insides as I squeezed against him, his weight toppling me as he lost the strength to hold himself up any longer. His hands gripped the sheets next to me, riding out the feelings he had, his breathy moans mixing with my own, as our lips openly pressed together.

By the time his flesh slipped from mine, the candles had all melted away. He lay on one side of the bed, and I on the other, my back now tucked safely into his chest. Our breaths rose and fell at the same time, heating one another as the slumber of the night took us both away.

I blinked my eyes open to feel a heavy fur draped over my body. The sunlight peaked through the curtains as a yawn emitted from my body. My eyes adjusted to the room around me, a new cream dress sat on the chair facing the bed, a rusty orange colour smock lying atop with a pair of shoes sat at the foot of the chair. I smiled to myself, turning over to thank the likely source of the clean clothes. Turning over though, the bed was empty, and a young chambermaid silently fussed around the room. She looked at me, almost pitifully. ‘Where’s he gone? Harald Siggurdson?’ I questioned. ‘He came to me this morning and ordered fresh garments to the room’ she stuttered. ‘Okay…but where is he?’ I questioned again.

‘He left for the docks, a boat was going back to the Viking land…he was on it’.