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daycourtofficial · 12 days

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How the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 3.2k | warnings: depictions of violence

Summary: Eris tells his sons a story, letting them know how a strong knight defeated an evil dragon and saved the kingdom.

Note: this is a part of my gingerfucker series and mentions events that are detailed in ‘Cold was the steel of my axe to grind’. This is also anplay on the ‘retellings’ prompt for today - thought it’d be fun to have Eris sanitize how Beron died as a fairytale story @erisweekofficial

“Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.” - G.K. Chesterton

The sound of wood clashing rang through the room before being immediately followed by a trio of giggles. Eris stood outside the door, arms crossed debating what to do, listening as the children inside pretended to be knights defeating an evil king. Or was it a dragon they were fighting and they were Peregryn warriors? It was impossible to keep track of Atlas, Nyx, and Leif’s antics. Their interests changed so quickly, it was impossible to keep track of what was the thing to be during their playtimes.

Their games of make believe often took elements of Eris’s life and formed a hodgepodge of stories where most of the time they are brave warriors seeking to defend their lands.

The boys enjoyed it. Eris’s back didn’t whenever he was deemed the bad guy, their small swords leaving bruises that seemed to last for a week.

Early fights between the boys had led to many tears - they all wanted to be the hero, the good guy. They did not know the males their fathers had been before, the males who had done unspeakable things to survive.

Before he could make the decision himself, Leif had made it for him by appearing in the door way and holding onto Eris’s trouser leg. Eris ran his fingers through Leif’s red locks, forcing his son to look up at him.

Leif was incredibly sensitive - an empath like his mother, Leif often became overwhelmed incredibly quickly. Fat tears would begin rolling down his cheeks before anyone could realize what went wrong. Nyx and Atlas, both a few years older than Leif, often became too rambunctious for the smallest Vanserra.

But Leif’s eyes were bright and full of joy, not a hint of upset on his small face.

You and the Archerons had gone to spend the evening in a cabin a few miles away. You weren’t far from the Forest House or from Eris’s mind, but you insisted you needed a weekend before this next babe came to be yourself. Three kids under five was going to be a lot and the two of you wanted to soak up every moment possible before having a newborn again.

Unfortunately, Leif took the separation from his mother much harder than Atlas did, but seemed to be doing surprisingly well. Eris crouched down, getting down to Leif’s level to ask, “are you alright?”

The small boy nodded before a yawn escaped his mouth, betraying his real feelings.

“Are you tired?”

Leif’s nod at that question was more pitiful, as if a full nod were too taxing for the small boy. Eris opened his arms, allowing Leif to wrap his arms around Eris’s neck before he stood back up, walking into the playroom, finding it impossible to find the floor from the toys scattered across it. He got peeks at the green rug beneath, but various plushies and toy armor littered the floor hiding it.

Eris whistled, the two whirlwinds slowing down enough to take form as small boys, their swords going lax at their sides.

“Is this a playroom or a graveyard for lost toys for all of Prythian?”

The two looked to each other as they fell into a mess of giggles, the cousins looking completely unrelated. Atlas so far had inherited no features from his mother, the little boy pale and freckly much like his father, his cheeks often pink from how hot he ran.

Nyx on the other hand was quite tan, a byproduct of the time he spent in the sun this summer. His small wings fluttered in excitement, not quite strong enough to launch him from the ground but enough to produce a decent wind.

Eris had gotten all three of them washed up an hour ago, allowing them to work out the last of their energy in the playroom where he knew they wouldn’t get dirty again. He figured Lucien had crept off to his own rooms to change, his clothes dripping with water after Atlas snuck his hound, Pumpkin, into their bath and Lucien had to chase down the wet beast.

Eris was so amused at the sight he didn’t tell his brother he could simply call for the dog, instead letting him slip and slide across the floors in an attempt to get to him.

The boys stood in their pajamas, all looking up at Eris. He moved his head toward the door, motioning for Atlas and Nyx to follow him.

“Come on. Time for bed.”

The two small boys groaned, but Leif merely nuzzled into Eris’s neck as he carried him into the room down the hall.

Despite the size of the Forest House, Atlas and Leif did much better when sharing a room. The two had been kept separate when Leif was born, until Leif was around eight months old and Atlas woke up just about every night and dragged Leif into his bedroom.

Most mornings Eris found Leif in Pumpkin’s dog bed in the corner of Atlas’s room, curled up with his older brother, Pumpkin sleeping peacefully on his son’s bed.

The first morning it happened caused Eris to spiral. Finding Leif’s crib empty sent him on a hunt throughout the house, waking up everybody in the process until he went to check on Atlas, finding the small babe in his brother’s arms.

It has been several years and the boys fight on occasion, but overall are quite happy to share a room. For tonight they get to have Nyx share their room too.

To prepare for their cousin, the boys grabbed their mattresses, pushing them together on the floor and putting pillows and blankets all over the floor so all three of them could lay together.

Nyx’s wings were still quite small - not big enough to support his weight, they barely stuck out around his shoulders. The sight of Nyx’s wings still sent a twinge of guilt through Eris.

It had been centuries since your wings were taken from you, but Eris still remembers the venom he had spat at you right before you lost them and how incredibly small you looked when Tamlin had showed up with you, your back a bloody mess.

You had made peace with it long ago, but every so often whenever he finds himself with an Illyrian nearby, he wishes you could have those wings back, even if for just a moment. To watch you glide in the air, the winds of Autumn that had pushed him so far holding you up.

Eris lit the candles in the room, dusk casting the room in darkness. Leif’s fingers gripped his collar tighter as he crouched down, failing to put him on the floor.

“Can you tell us a story?”

Atlas perked up at Leif’s sleepy voice, practically vibrating in excitement. “The one with the dragon, please daddy?”

Atlas clutched his hands together in pleading, bouncing up as Eris agreed. He knew what Leif’s question was for - the small boy didn’t want to be set down yet, too content in his father’s arms to be left alone. If only Beron were alive to watch him cave to the demands of toddlers - his heart would stop beating in anger.

Eris stood back up, all attempts of removing Leif forgotten as he moved to the rocking chair in the corner, sitting with Leif curled up to his chest just like he had done hundreds of times before. Atlas and Nyx followed, sitting right in front of Eris on the mattresses that lay across the floor. He rocked for a moment - both to gather his bearings, deciding where to start the story, and because the anticipation killed the little boys before him.

“A long, long time ago, there once lived a knight.”

“What’s his name?”

Atlas was quick to shush his cousin, annoyed at his interruption no matter how many times he had heard the story. Leif began tapping on Eris’s chest, wanting him to keep talking, the sound of his voice soothing.

“We’ll just call him the knight. The knight lived a long time ago in a kingdom that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Why not?”

Eris had no idea where Nyx’s inquisitive nature came from - his father certainly didn’t look too hard at the world outside of his dim perspective. The boy probably spent too much time with Azriel - anytime the spymaster was seen by either of his kids, they both ran rampant with questions of “why” and “how”, partly because Azriel would answer every single one of their questions, and because in their presence, he would also ask why and how and who questions.

“You’ll find out.”

Nyx opened his mouth, but Atlas moved his hand over his cousin’s mouth. “Stop.”

Eris continued with his story. “The knight lived in a land ruled by an evil dragon. He breathed fire at anyone who dared try to overthrow him.”

Nyx’s eyes grew large, excitement filling them as Eris pretended to breathe out fire.

“He was a big, nasty beast. His fangs are the size of a door. He had big red scales that covered his entire body, shielding him.”

Maybe he began embellishing these stories a bit.

“The handsome knight-”

“When’d he become handsome?”

Atlas slapped his hand onto his forehead in aggravation and Eris had to bite his tongue from laughing. The little boy hardly ever stopped talking and to watch his frustrations at his cousin doing the same was very amusing.

“He was always handsome.”

Eris had slowly been telling Atlas and Leif stories of his life in a much more palatable manner. Replacing their grandfather with a dragon, making Amarantha a dragon, making Rhys an evil king who hated him. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it was quite fun.

In one story he made Lucien a donkey just because it amused him. Lucien had been less than thrilled at his fictional depictions, even going so far as to try to tell his own stories to the boys. They didn’t like Lucien’s storytelling, so much so they begged him not to tell any stories.

“The incredibly good looking knight decided he needed to make a plan to kill the dragon,” giggles accompanied his words. “The knight had one issue: he was in love with a princess from a different kingdom.”

Leif gasped as if this were a new story to him - he enjoyed all aspects of Eris’s stories, but Leif was always happiest to hear about the princess. Whether or not Leif knew the princess was his mother, Eris wasn’t sure.

“And her king wouldn’t let her live in the kingdom of the dragon.”

“Why not?”

“Because dragons love the taste of princesses!” Nyx shrieked a little, and for good measure he added, “and the taste of little boys.”

Eris enjoyed riling his brothers up when they were young - one of the traits the centuries haven’t worn down. Once they both stopped screaming, Eris continued his story.

“So, the knight began planning with the other knights of the kingdom. They spent months making a plan to get rid of the dragon. He was killing their crops, even eating some of the people, and hoarding all of the kingdom’s gold. No one had any money or food. They devised a plan and set a date to take down the dragon. On the night before, the knight slipped away to see his princess one last time, to catch a glimpse of her before going to battle.

“She was as beautiful as he remembered, their last meeting was months ago and he thought of it often. Her king didn’t approve of their relationship, but they met secretly without him knowing. She invited him up into her chambers, where he told her the plans for the next day. He wanted to say goodbye, wanted to see her one last time. He gave her a kiss farewell-” giggles filled the room. “And then the knight left once more. It was the hardest thing for him to do.”

“What was?”

“Saying goodbye to his princess.”

The boys were enraptured in the story, paying close attention to every word from Eris.

“Why?”

Atlas didn’t admonish Nyx for his question, wanting to know the answer himself.

“Because he loved her very much.”

He rubbed Leif’s back softly, rocking the chair gently as he continued.

“The knight left the princess’s tower, heading to find a secret weapon.” Nyx’s wings fluttered, the wind brushing over Eris and Leif. “He walked through the kingdom to find a special, magical sword. It had been hidden centuries before, waiting for the rightful person to come find it.”

Atlas pretended to wave a sword in his hand, making sounds that somewhat resembles clashing as he and Nyx pretended to be fighting with swords.

“The knight rode in on his horse, meeting the other knights as they rode in and fought the dragon head on.”

“Did the horses fight?”

“No, they stayed far away as the knights used their swords to pierce and stab the dragon over and over again, but he remained unharmed.”

Atlas and Nyx began acting out the story, Atlas grabbing a pillow and pretending it was the dragon.

“The dragon paid special attention to our knight, his teeth sharp as he kept scratching and biting the knight. He was injured, but he kept fighting on with his magical sword. The dragon hit him with his tail, causing the sword to go flying through the air.”

Eris’s voice rose and fell with the story, his words glossing over the atrocities of the day. He could not figure out a nice way to add in how their mother poisoned at minimum twenty-five of Beron’s closest advisors.

Their mouths were wide open now, desperate to know how the tale ends, Nyx allowing his inquisitive nature to take a backseat to Eris’s storytelling.

“The knight thought it would be over as the dragon snarled at him, opening his mouth so the knight could see his big, nasty teeth. He could even see some of the spinach he had eaten for dinner.”

The boys erupted in giggles, softs echoes of “ewwwww” littered the room.

“The knight had accepted his fate. He knew it was over, and all he could think about was how grateful he was he got to see his princess one last time. He had closed his eyes, preparing to die, but the dragon stopped breathing his nasty breath in the knight’s face.

“The dragon had turned, only to find one of the other knights, Sir Flint, had come from behind. He had picked up the magical sword and slashed the dragon’s neck!”

Tiny gasps came from his audience, but he continued to his favorite part of the story.

“Blood poured out of the dragon as he fell, his big body making a big thunk as he fell. Some say it even caused an earthquake because he was so heavy.”

Eris couldn’t tell them about the extent of Flint’s sacrifice - not yet anyway. But he would make sure they knew his name, even if he were merely a fairytale hero.

“Once the dragon was slain, the knight removed his armor to show that he was secretly a prince the whole time!”

The boys screeched in excitement, jumping up and searching for their swords to start fighting again, disappointed to remember they were left in the playroom. Once they settled back down, Eris continued.

“The other knights gave the prince a crown, making him king of the kingdom. His first act was to go find his princess and bring her to his kingdom, making her the queen.

“The end. Now, I think it’s time for bed.”

The boys groaned in protest, but complied. Grabbing their blankets and settling onto the beds all over the floor. Atlas and Nyx nestled in, hiding themselves amongst the blankets and pillows. Eris stood, Leif’s body having grown heavy with sleep, his steps careful to navigate the various pillows, trying to find a spot for his son.

Leif groaned at the stirring, but Eris was quick to hum softly, soothing something in Leif.

“What happened to the prince?” Nyx’s wings fluttered with anticipation, the blankets moving with his joy, wanting to know what happened to such a brave male.

Eris leaned in conspiratorially, the boys leaning into him as if he were going to tell them a secret.

“His kingdom is long gone, but he’s still alive. He wanders the lands of Prythian. He was last seen in Winter a few years ago. They say he hunts for little boys who stay up past their bedtimes.”

Their small shrieks made Eris want to laugh, but he kept a straight face despite himself. He looked to Leif, his youngest son much more susceptible to these tall tales, only to find him asleep once more. His eyes were closed, his round cheeks pressed into his chest making the freckles on his face scrunch together.

Atlas and Nyx had quickly thrown the blankets over themselves, their voices quiet telling the other to stop talking. He was able to find a spot for Leif next to Atlas, gently moving his head to a new pillow, draping a blanket over him.

“Good night.”

They echoed his sentiment, their voices muffled through the fabric of their blankets. Eris shut the door behind himself, listening to the two cousins bicker back and forth, their voices getting quieter as the dark lulled them to sleep. He started walking down the hallway, only to find Lucien walking his way. His brother changed his stride to walk with Eris, following him through the halls.

Eris and Lucien had agreed to keep the kids for the first night you were gone, and Rhysand would pick them up in the morning and keep them all day and night. His brother in law had been incredibly confident he could handle the three boys on his own, perhaps from some well-placed snark from Eris at how his one child was much different from two, let alone a third.

Eris didn’t have to manipulate people anymore, he could live as he wished to, showing whatever image of himself he wanted. But he’d be damned if he ever stopped tricking the High Lord of the Night Court for his own amusement.

“I was thinking about tomorrow.”

Eris hummed as Lucien spoke, the two moving toward Eris’s sitting room, both in desperate need of alcohol and to not have someone clinging to them.

“I heard from Nesta that Rhys was so smug he could handle the three boys by himself that Azriel and Cassian are going to some sporting event.”

“Hm, wonder where he’d get such ridiculous notions of himself, as if he had something to prove.”

Lucien’s laugh was barking, but he continued. “I think we should give the kids a bunch of sugar before they go to Night. It’ll drive Rhysand up a wall. He may never want to see your kids again, though.”

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Thanks for reading❣️

#gingerfucker #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you

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izurusstuff · 9 months

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Coal Miner's Daughter

(click here for last chapter)

｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⛓ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 💣⛓.⋆｡⋆˚

message from izurusstuff: okay hi i promise snow comes in on the next part [insert pleading eyes here], i just didn't want to overwhelm people with so so much, so i divided it into two sections but you'll thank me for that,, he's going to be serving cunt and being the literal best teenage murderous villain <33

im literally writing pt 2 rn for y'all bc ilysm, bear with me

[𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟'𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝟏𝟐 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭]

summary: Y/n and Ridge are navigating their new life after y/n's betrayal. It's the first day, but things are already so different.

*:･ﾟ✧* "...𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞..." ･ﾟ✧*:

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

May 31st, The Hob, District 12.

Y/n dropped the expensive ivory guitar Savani had gotten her the day prior. The wood broke into splinters everywhere… about two thousand dollars worth of precious wood was currently laying in pieces on the floor of The Hob. Bystanders looked on in shock at what they saw go down… but Mayor Yearwood was furious. Not at his daughter who just backstabbed her best friend, but at y/n.

The heartbroken girl was running through the meadows back to her house. Tears flew from her face and her heart weighed more than the world. Y/n ran past the lake that the three were at just the night prior… when everything was okay. When her heart didn't get grinded up into powder by two of her favorite people. When she knew she was loved. So much changed in less than a day. It was all so fast, it felt like a carousel ride she couldn’t get off of… and it was fucking horrifying.

When y/n stepped foot into her house, she ran into her room and destroyed all the artwork of the trio. She stupidly flushed all the jewelry down the toilet… she was so upset that it didn't cross her mind that she could sell it. She wanted to get rid of every single memory of Leif and Savani. Including living in District 12 with them.

Ridge ran into the house a few minutes later. It was quite obvious y/n had outran her poor dad; he was unbelievably out of breath when he finally got there.

“Kid…”

Y/n looked at her dad. She tried to speak. Nothing came out of her mouth other than loud wails… Ridge somewhat understood her heartbreak; it’s exactly what he went through when y/n’s mom died. He held his poor daughter in his soot-covered hands, which got all over her celebration dress. He wasn’t exactly the best at comfort, but y/n knew he was there for her and truly loved her.

“C…can I come work in the mines with you, Daddy?” Y/n said through her sobs. Ridge thought it was an unusual request, but he knew letting y/n stay in the house would only make her feel worse, so he nodded.

“You can come with me tomorrow. Beware though, you’ll be the only lady there. The boys might be shocked.” Ridge joked. He wasn’t exactly lying– she’d be the only female there, but he wouldn’t tolerate any of his fellow miners being rude to his precious daughter.

“You don’t have to be alone, sweetheart. We’ll get through this together. Just like we always done. Ain’t gonna let no one hurt you…” He said, squeezing y/n tighter. Ridge may have not been able to prevent y/n’s heart from getting broken this time, but he wasn’t going to let it happen again. He didn’t give a damn if he had to buy a shotgun with all the money he had. No one would treat y/n like this… because it broke his heart too. If it wasn’t for him trying to stay strong for her, Ridge would also be sobbing. He felt like the worst dad ever for not being able to protect his daughter from people so cruel… people he trusted.

“...I love you, Pa.” Y/n didn’t say that phrase often, but she really should. She truly loved her dad. Ridge always bent over backwards to make sure she was clothed and fed. He’d often spend days straight in the mines around her birthday and holidays just so she could have presents. And in that moment, y/n was beyond grateful for him.

Ridge was trying his hardest not to break down crying in that moment. But it didn’t work… tears fell from his eyes just as fast as y/n’s did. Neither of them said anything, but they basked in each other’s heartbreak. The two ended up falling asleep like that…

June 1st, Vespertine Residence, District 12.

Ridge and y/n had fallen asleep on the croaky, old, wooden floor of y/n’s room while they embraced. Y/n’s head was on Ridge’s shoulder, and his head was on top of hers. Honestly, it wasn’t exactly the most comfortable of positions, but the idea of it was wholesome.

The two didn’t wake up until the cliche cawing of a rooster was heard in the distance while they felt the pastel orange sun shine down on them through y/n’s open window… and both of them groggily woke up. For a split moment, they’d forgotten why they were asleep like that to begin with. But reality set in not long after.

“Still plannin’ on going to the mines today, kid?” Ridge asked, standing up and brushing himself off. Y/n nodded. It wasn’t the ideal job by any means, but she knew the Yearwoods and Leif would try to look for her. And she did NOT want to deal with it.

“Alrighty then.” Ridge walked off to his room, which was only on the other side of the kitchen, opposite of y/n’s. After a second, he tossed y/n a… very… very… dirty uniform.

“Sorry, kid. Can’t have you ruinin’ your dresses.” He responded after he saw the disgusted look on her face… great. She had to wear her dad’s old uniform that’s been around for God knows how long. Why didn’t she see that coming? But there wasn’t any backing out now. Y/n shooed Ridge and began putting on the uniform…

June 1st, Yearwood Mansion, District 12.

Unlike y/n, Savani slept peacefully. She finished up her dad’s birthday party with Leif by her side… and not once did they think of y/n. Savani got to get the sleep, food, and energy y/n deserved. Why did she get to crush y/n and act like nothing happened?! It was infuriating, but only for y/n. Everyone else was ecstatic for Savani and Leif… like y/n never existed or even mattered to anyone.

The young heiress woke up that morning in her silk pajamas and her luxury bed. She didn’t fall asleep from being so exhausted because she cried her heart out to her dad. It was everything y/n deserved.

It was almost as if… Savani wanted to erase y/n from the start. She probably was an embarrassment to her and Leif. So they betrayed her, that way they wouldn’t be labeled as classists for cutting off their peasant “friend.” That was probably why everyone supported Leif and Vani’s relationship… because everyone knew y/n lived in a three room house with her dad on the very outskirts of the district. Everyone knew they could only afford “soup” that contained water and one vegetable… they knew the soup only had spices in it on y/n’s birthday.

The Vespertines were nothing but savage, poor, vain peasant folk. People only tolerated them because y/n was “best friends” with Mayor Yearwood’s daughter. Now they didn’t have to hide their disgust anymore.

“Good morning, Daddy!” Savani said in a cheery voice as she walked into her kitchen that was nearly twice the size of y/n’s entire house. “‘Mornin’, darlin’.” Tripp said. His voice nearly sounded like a growl. Vani didn’t care, though. She’d always gotten everything she wanted… and now, Leif was hers too.

“People’re talkin’ about that stunt you pulled yesterday on y/n, Savani.”

“So?”

“Savani. Now we all know damn well, I never cared much for y/n… but people don’t need to know that. You’re makin’ it seem we’re out to get her right before The Reaping. What will they think if y/n gets drawn to go in?”

Shit. Tripp was right. The Reaping for The Hunger Games was only a little over a month away. If y/n were to get picked…

“So be it. She’s everything the Capitol thinks of us… dirty, poor, hungry, angry, savage. Ain’t much of a loss if she gets picked.” Those words really sunk in for Tripp… maybe if he rigged the drawing, his precious daughter could live her happy ever after with Leif…

“I ‘spose you’re right. Be unfortunate if she got picked…”

June 1st, Everdeen Coal Mine, District 12.

Y/n arrived with her hair in pigtails. Although she was wearing a decade old mining uniform, she made it her own. She flaunted it with confidence… she knew Savani could never do such a thing. Vani could probably put on the uniform, but she’d only do it for publicity. Y/n got to actually work; which wouldn’t be so wonderful if she wasn’t so excited to use a pickaxe to take her anger out on poor rocks.

She walked closely behind her dad, who was strutting in the mines. Everyone there seemed to know her dad’s name, which kinda made her feel inferior… inferior. To her own dad. At his job. Her confidence really took a deep dive after yesterday, huh?

“Hey Ridge! That your daughter?” An old man shouted, pointing to y/n.

“Sure is, Billy!”

“Really grown up on us!” The man said. Y/n was… terrified. She thought she’d be ridiculed the second she picked up her pickaxe. “She’ll be a hard worker if she’s anything like her daddy!” Y/n let out a sigh of relief. Thank the Lord… people here in the mines didn’t judge. It was refreshing. But it’s expected that men who wore working their ass off just so their family could buy a single head of cabbage would be understanding.

Time to get to work.

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systuffs · 14 days

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premade headmate inspo #01

theme: masc bloomcore!

disclaimer: there is a high chance that headmates formed/introjected/etc will not be the same as written - and that's okay! made for willowers & for existing headmates looking for an identity to latch to. <3

WE ARE ANTI RADQUEER.

names: asper / aspen, basil, cedar, cove, caspian, oliver / ollie, wells, sage, briar, august, florian / florence, elowen, leif species: human / half elf pronouns: he/him, they/them, thon/thons, ve/vem, leaf/leafs, clo/clover, bloom/blooms, warm/warms, spring/springs, sun/suns, soft/softs, wou/woods, co/cozy, bun/buns genders: boyflux, honeyaesic, bloomcoric, strawberrygender, cozylexic, dentrospitine, mittgender, diasongix, comfygender orientation: solian personality: soft-spoken, quirky, knowledgeable, reserved, emotional, empathetic, excitable, mellow, kind, gentle, warm hobbies: botany, gardening, baking, leaf & flower pressing fun fact: will info-dump about different plants & flowers for hours ifg you let them inspo: bloomcore, warmcore, spring vibes & fairies

faceclaim ideas: [ 01 || 02 || 03 ]

#syspo #plural #actually plural #pluralgang #plural system #plurality #plural community #anti radqueer #anti rq #anti transid #anti transx #pro endo #pro endogenic #endo friendly #endogenic friendly #endogenic safe #endo safe

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bumblesimagines · 1 year

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Under The Moonlight

Request: Yes or No

Don't kill me pls I love y'allllllllll if it helps i have three parts already writtennnnn! look at the pretty man

CW/TW: Violence, implied homophobia, Christianity, bashing Christianity (idk if that should be a warning), Vikings being Vikings, men being men

Apologies to any ppl from Greenland or people with a lot of knowledge on Norse culture and their gods, I will get some things wrong.

~~~

The sail to Kattegat had proven to be a difficult feat, though most trips across open ocean typically were. The ocean had shown mercy at first; when the waves would only brush against the side of the boat gently, beckoning curious eyes to gaze into its depths.

But upon sailing closer to Kattegat, a storm began brewing above. The sky turned a dark shade of gray as the waves began to grow, slamming against the boat harder and harder, threatening to capsize it with each powerful hit. The other boats traveling alongside them began to disappear until the drenched man could no longer see more than a foot ahead of him through the pouring rain. With the roaring waves and claps of thunder hounding his senses, (Y/N) could hardly hear the instructions his siblings shouted in an attempt to keep the boat from sinking into the darkness below. But in the end, Leif's experience allowed everyone to escape the storm without losing a single person.

Rising from the wooden seat, (Y/N) stared at the harbor settled between the mountains, a horn blaring through the air to signal their arrival. The town appeared large and heavily occupied. Far more occupied than he had expected. Kattegat was a seemingly well-known town but the man hadn't expected to see so many Vikings gathered in just one harbor. His half-sister seemed to share similar thoughts. She stared at the town, gaze lingering for a moment before she looked back toward her brothers with uncertainty but after meeting (Y/N)'s eyes, her lips pulled into a warm smile and her shoulders relaxed.

Freydis Eriksdotter. Only younger than him by a few weeks. With her long blonde hair and tender blue eyes, Freydis had been a shining light in his darkest moments. While she physically resembled her mother, her stubborn and fierce personality could be attributed to their stubborn and infamous father, Erik Thorvaldsson. She had proven to be the perfect combination of her parents; her idle hands that could weave thread and mend injuries also knew how to handle a sword. And with a father like theirs, it was imperative they knew how to defend themselves, from animals and people alike.

"Stay close and out of trouble," A voice rumbled from behind him as the boat neared the docks.

Then there was his older half-brother, Leif Eriksson. With his broad structure, long brown hair, and bright blue eyes, Leif resembled their father in more ways than one. And yet, he tried to be everything their father wasn't; gentle, forgiving, and merciful. He and Freydis easily adapted to (Y/N)'s presence after his mother brought him to their home. They gleefully took him in, calling him their brother within days and growing to love him within weeks. Leif proved to be the older brother anyone could ever wish for.

"I'm not the one you should be telling that to." (Y/N) muttered, folding his arms over his chest and feeling the boat slow to a stop. The Vikings on the docks were quick to help secure the boat and one took a moment to examine the condition of it and its passengers.

"How in Odin's name did you avoid the storm?" He questioned curiously as he rested his hands on his hips

Brushing off his question, Leif addressed the man. "Did any ships from the west make it in last night?"

"No, just two ships before the storm." He answered and nodded toward the shore, drawing (Y/N)'s attention to it. Littered across the sand were bodies, flags, and pieces of wood. Few searched through the wreckages for valuables or familiar faces while others treaded into the waters to pull the corpses onto land. A saddening sight for anyone. Lives lost to the rage of the ocean. Leif studied the shore and exhaled softly, shaking his head lightly before turning to his crew.

"Toke, Ulf, you stay here with the boats and resupply," Leif instructed the two men and then turned his sights onto siblings. "Freydis, (Y/N), check with the captains at the harbor. The rest of you will come with me to search the town."

Freydis frowned but before she could protest, (Y/N) gently grasped her arm. "The time will come." He assured her gently. Freydis pursed her lips and nodded, gazing after their brother as he and the others disappeared into the crowded town. She heaved a sigh and turned back to look at their messy boat.

"You know, I do not need you watching over me," Freydis muttered and retrieved some more rope from the floor, squinting up at their sail to check for anything else that had possibly gotten loose in the strong winds.

"It's my job as your big brother." (Y/N) reminded teasingly, a grin appearing on his face when she scoffed softly and rolled her eyes. Freydis expertly tied the rope in her hands around the mast, glancing at the men as (Y/N) took the things Toke and Ulf had quickly retrieved. (Y/N) looked over their supplies, ensuring they had everything they needed.

"Where are you from?" Someone called out, pulling the Greenlanders' attention away from their tasks and onto the man watching them from the dock.

He was tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His brunette hair had been tied back into a bun, allowing them to gaze at his bearded face and dark eyes. He regarded the crew with mere curiosity and a boyish smile that screamed trouble, exuding an aura of friendliness. But even with his kind eyes and relaxed posture, (Y/N) couldn't find it in himself to trust him. They were newcomers on strange land. Easy targets for vultures.

Slipping his fingers around his sheathed dagger, (Y/N) allowed his eyes to sweep over the man once more, taking note of the axe holstered to his hip. When he turned his attention back onto the stranger's face he found the man already watching him. The brunette tilted his head to the side expectantly, presumably awaiting an answer from him but he received silence in return as (Y/N) turned his back to him and focused on taking count of their food supply, or rather lack of.

Chuckling softly under her breath, Freydis peered over her shoulder and answered, "Greenland."

"What kind of journey was it?" The man inquired, gaze lingering on the quiet man.

"Long. Five weeks. No stops." Freydis answered once more and watched the man closely as he finally tore his eyes away from her brother and stepped closer to asses the boat. Upon finishing with the mast, she finally faced him.

"Five weeks across open ocean in this?" He peered down at Freydis with twinkling eyes and a wolfish grin. "I'm impressed."

"Then you are easily impressed."

"Not true. My standards are quite high." The man objected playfully, watching his sister with an all too familiar look. (Y/N) had been no stranger to that dance, especially when it came to Freydis and the other women of the crew. And seeing as his sister appeared rather taken with the handsome stranger, (Y/N) doubted she'd only flirt with him.

"So are mine." Freydis pulled herself up onto one of the seats, wrapping her hand around one of the ropes attached to the mast to maintain her balance. She smirked at him, blatantly looking him over to feed into their little flirtatious game. "Are you from Kattegat?"

"No, from Ringerike. I'm Harald Sigurdsson." Harald spoke his name proudly, almost as if he were important. It made (Y/N)'s eyes roll. "Who are you?"

"My name is Freydis." The blonde answered before motioning toward (Y/N) with a nod. "And this is my brother."

"Ah." Harald leaned back, hand resting on the hilt of his axe as he looked back at (Y/N). "Then, I believe after such a long voyage, I would think a hot bath would sound good to your sister." Bold words slipped from his mouth and (Y/N) found himself raising his brows at him, hearing Ulf and Toke snickering quietly from their spots. Freydis looked at her brother with widened eyes but the corners of her lips twitched upward in amusement. Meeting her gaze, (Y/N) knew Leif would be far from pleased if he allowed her to leave the boat with a stranger, but he'd be unable to blame (Y/N) for it. Freydis had a habit of doing whatever she wanted, with and without permission. So, with the knowledge Freydis could easily defend herself if it came to it, (Y/N) hesitantly nodded.

"Well then," Freydis turned back to Harald and stepped onto the dock, turning her chin up at him and quirking a pale brow. "Where could I get one of these hot baths?"

"Come." Harald chuckled, shooting the man one last glance before he placed his hand on Freydis's lower back and led her down the dock until they disappeared from view.

"With that attitude, he's asking for someone to dig an axe in his back," Ulf said as he stood up, casting a glance over the boat.

Shaking his head, (Y/N) looked at him and offered a smile. "We've come for other reasons." He reminded, watching Toke finish securing everything.

With the boat taken care of, the two men followed (Y/N) down the dock and looked around as he led them into town. Sellers shoved varying items in his direction, shouting off prices and rambling about their products. Amongst the perfumes, clothes, and weapons being sold, there were slaves. Shackled and shivering. (Y/N) felt his throat tighten at the sight of them.

"There's Liv!" Ulf pointed out and (Y/N) tore his gaze away from the slaves, turning his back to them as his friends slipped from the crowd one by one.

"No luck." Yrsa sighed. Before (Y/N) could speak, another horn sounded off, signaling the arrival of more ships and it only took a moment for Lief to slip out of the crowd and join the group, looking over everyone with newfound determination.

"The cross belongs to an English Viking." He revealed, eyes searching for Freydis's familiar face and frowning when he didn't spot her. Turning to his brother questioningly, his frown only deepened when (Y/N) avoided his eyes and sheepishly rubbed the side of his neck.

"She left with someone. A so-called Harald Sigurdsson."

Sighing heavily, Leif nodded. "I'll find her. We'll meet up at the docks."

When Leif disappeared back into the crowd, (Y/N) faced the crew and motioned for them to start heading back. On the short walk to the docks, it began to rain lightly but the wind picked up considerably. They just couldn't seem to stay dry for long. It didn't take long for Leif and Freydis to join the crew, eyes trained on the ships sailing into the harbor. Upon getting closer, (Y/N) spotted two of the men on one of the ships, crosses dangling from their necks. Considering the loud cheering from the docks, the two were loved, perhaps even worshipped.

"It's him," Freydis confirmed, looking back at her brothers when the men stepped off the ships. She looked back at the sound of a familiar voice and her eyes narrowed upon seeing Harald greeting them, appearing to know the men on a personal level.

"Isn't that-"

"Yes." Freydis breathed, jaw clenching. Grasping the handle of her knife, Freydis took a step forward, ready to get her revenge on the man who had fled from justice. But she didn't get far before (Y/N) took her arm and pulled her back. Too many eyes, too many Christians. They'd see her coming from a mile away if she brazenly rushed at them and he doubted they'd only pray for her if she were caught.

"Not here," Leif told her, keeping an eye on the men as they strode deeper into town. Grunting softly, the blonde sheathed her knife and stepped back, eyes bright with rage. "Toke, Yrsa. Go get our things."

The men stopped briefly to eat, giving Toke and Yrsa enough time to gather everyones' belongings and bring them back, handing them off just as the men got on horses and began leaving town. The crew followed them out of town, keeping a safe distance away and being mindful of the other Vikings with the men. Leif led everyone into the dense forest, stepping over fallen logs and foliage as they climbed up the side of the mountain. A tiresome trek but a necessary one. Freydis needed to bring justice down on the man who had hurt her and her brothers had vowed on helping her. So, (Y/N) ignored the way his muscles ached for rest and marched on.

The winds lashed furiously on the mountain but it was the least of (Y/N)'s worries as he took in the sight below. A whole camp filled with more Vikings than he could count. Tents perched in just about every corner, horses roaming around, carts filled with supplies. It looked like an army preparing for something, but what exactly? (Y/N) swallowed and looked at Leif, taking in the concentrated look on his face.

"We'll set up camp in the forest." Leif decided, turning to his equally perplexed and surprised friends. "We'll keep an eye on him until the time is right." Leif nodded to his sister and Freydis returned it, eyeing the camp one last time before she turned and began heading back down the mountain, the others following close behind and exchanging glances. (Y/N) strayed for a moment, looking over all the Vikings present. A need for so many warriors could only mean something big, something important. Part of him didn't want to find out what it was.

Turning his attention away from the camp, he caught up with the others and headed down the mountain where they could rest until a solid plan was created. Yrsa and Ulf worked together to prop their furs on long sticks, Liv and Leif collected some sticks to create a small fire and Njal left to watch the camp. (Y/N) explored the forest, gazing up at the tall trees towering over them. While he was no stranger to a lush forest, he'd been used to seeing vast snow-covered plains for most of his life. He missed the openness of his home... He missed his parents and brothers. Sighing softly, he turned his sights onto the bright green brush and grass, searching for fallen branches and sticks to help feed the fire Liv and Leif had started. He'd have to take in the sights of nature another time. They had more important matters at hand.

Returning to camp with a handful of sticks and crouching down by the fire, he set the pile down beside Liv and brushed his hands free of dirt. Liv gave him a thankful smile, picking up a few and tossing them into the fire, the crackle growing louder. (Y/N) lifted his head to look at the others, noting Skarde seemed awfully quiet and upset. Yrsa had settled down on a blanket made of furs whilst Ulf and Toke conversed and his sister sat by herself, looking out in the direction of the camp. She perked up at the sight of Njal, watching him return with a conflicted expression.

"He must be important. He hasn't come out of the main tent." Njal informed them, gaze cast onto the ground as glances were exchanged.

Running a hand over his face, Skarde shook his head and spoke shakily, fingers toying with the thread wrapped around his hand. "This changes things."

"This changes nothing," Freydis spoke, snapping her head toward him and narrowing her eyes when he scoffed.

"Really? What is your plan then? Go down there and simply take your revenge?" He questioned, raising a brow at her as she stood and faced him.

"If I have to, yes." Noticing the growing animosity, Leif stood up from his spot beside Liv, glancing between his sister and friend as they went back and forth, both Greenlanders growing more annoyed with each passing second.

Skarde slowly nodded in disbelief, rolling up the thread in his hands and tossing it to his feet. "I won't be a part of such a plan." He spat, pushing himself off the tree he'd been sitting against.

"Then you break your oath to my father?" Leif furrowed his brows as he walked forward, placing himself between the two and staring up at him. (Y/N) rose up from his hunches and stepped around the brunette to stand beside his brother, briefly pulling Skarde's attention off his siblings and onto him.

Clenching his jaw, Skarde spoke, "I didn't promise your father to be a part of foolishness."

"What do we know of this place?" Njal's deep voice interjected, his tone full of uncertainty. "Trees, cities, and giant armies? These Norse are not our people."

"They are Viking... Just like you." Freydis raised her brows, pointedly looking between Njal and Skarde as she spoke.

"No." Skarde asserted with a light shake of his head. "We are Greenlanders. As are you." He said, inhaling deeply before he continued. "Until this morning, no one among us had ever seen more than 40 people together in one place. Now, I look at more men than in Iceland and Greenland together. We must be able to admit that what we came here for is now hopeless."

Silence fell over the crew and when nobody countered his argument, Freydis scoffed in disbelief and turned away from them, stalking off in the direction of the camp. (Y/N) didn't hesitate on following his sister through the foliage until they came across the tree line. Freydis stared out at the camp with crossed arms and a frown on her face. The crunching of leaves signaled Leif's presence, having followed his younger siblings as well.

"You shouldn't have stopped me at the harbor," Freydis muttered bitterly. "It would be done."

"And you would be dead," Leif stated bluntly, gazing out at the camp.

"Then I'd be in Valhalla with the other Einherjar, feasting with Odin and the Gods. And Father would be proud."

"We are not here for Father, Freydis." (Y/N) spoke up, hand reaching out to gently touch the back of her arm. She looked down at his hand, her tense figure slowly relaxing at her brother's touch. "We came here for you. Besides, Father didn't think of-"

"What are you trying to tell me?" She asked defensively, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. "Do you believe it's hopeless? Because I will not stop until I get my revenge."

"No, Freydis. We're asking you to trust us." Leif said, softening his gaze as he looked at his sister. Freydis swallowed and looked back at him, lips pressing together. She released a shaky sigh and nodded, loose curls bouncing against her speckled skin.

"I trust you."

"Good. Because I have a plan."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" (Y/N) questioned, eyeing the Vikings walking around with their weapons close to their sides and crosses hanging proudly from their necks. When night had fallen, Leif had pulled him away from the rest to take him to the camp. Leif wished to infiltrate the camp and figure out what exactly so many of their people had been gathered.

"If you'd like, you can return to camp," Leif glanced back at him, shoulder roughly bumping against another Viking walking by. (Y/N) stepped closer to his brother, listening to the soft prayers oozing from tents and groups of Vikings. Unease bubbled in his stomach. Too many Christians for his liking. Leif lifted his hand to his face, brushing back some hair before an older man suddenly reached out, snatching his wrist and staring at the tattoo Leif had on his wrist.

"What you doing over here?" He hissed quietly, voice thick with an English accent. He spared a look around before releasing Leif's wrist and glancing at (Y/N). "Come with me before one of these damn Christians catches sight of the both of ya." He sucked his teeth, shoving the brothers forward and away from the other Vikings. (Y/N) stumbled out onto an open area and looked back at the man, watching him warily glance back.

"If that Jesus bunch caught you two prowling around over there, you'd be lucky to get back." He shook his head, leading them toward a cart and pulling their hands up. He began stacking folded blankets and coats made of fur on their hands until the sound of drums began echoing through the air and everyone began heading in the direction of the sound.

"Stay close," Leif whispered to his brother, following the older man through the crowd. Men on horses led the way with their torches held in the air, only stopping once the crowd stood in front of those beating the drums. (Y/N) handed the blankets off to the older man, nodding to him and keeping close to Leif as they slipped through the crowd until they reached the front. A few Vikings stood on top of a hill overlooking the crowd. Harald Sigurdsson among them. He appeared to be quite important.

"Welcome, friends!" The man standing beside Harald began, voice echoing through the valley. Murmurs erupted through the crowd and a name seemed to be passed around: King Canute of Denmark.

"Over a hundred years ago, a great Viking army set off for England to avenge the death of Ragnor Lothrok. It achieved its goal. And after many great victories, our people were invited to settle into communities there. With time, we sent our loved ones to live and work there. The Danelaw became their home." King Canute spoke, allowing a brief moment of silence to pass as the information settled in.

"A year ago, all that changed. And a slaughter began. A massacre. Unknown in the long history of our people. An attack. Not warrior to warrior, but waged on innocent women and children." The more he spoke, the rowdier the crowd got, murmurs growing louder. "Waged for only one reason; to cleanse England of our people. You have been summoned here for a purpose, to avenge the death of our people and to show the English that they cannot murder Vikings and expect us to do nothing!" The crowd erupted in cheers, swords being slammed against shields in support. (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably as shoulders bumped against his, adrenaline beginning to pump in the veins of those around him.

"Our ancestors would not. Ivar the Boneless and Bjorn Ironside would not. I will not. Will you?" The crowd roared their response. It was not in a Viking's blood to simply ignore an attack against themselves, against loved ones. But many of the Vikings present weren't there to avenge a loved one. A blind and unexpected attack was an easy way to bruise someone's ego. "You are here for your families! You are here for your honor! You are here because you are Vikings!" King Canute finished, hearing the overwhelming shouts and roars of agreement, metal swords slamming against shields. Leif and (Y/N) exchanged a look, arms brushing against each other and providing the brothers with some sense of comfort in a sea of furious men and women.

"We will fight the English." One man staggered forward, head turning to sneer at the others. "But not with Christians!" He bellowed, motioning toward them with his axe as others cheered in agreement. Despite the years, (Y/N) could feel his scar ache as he looked toward the gathered Christians, a certain disdain swirling in his chest. "Christians killed my family. They are my true enemy."

"And you are mine, Pagan." One of the Christian men responded, stepping forward from the rowdy crowd. "These men are nothing but idolaters. Worshippers of Satan!"

With a war cry, the first man ran at the other, swinging his axe at him but his blow was blocked by the second man's shield. The two continued swinging at each other, urged on by both crowds alike. Swiftly going down the hill, Harald got in between them, blocking with his shield and swinging at the men in an attempt to push them away from each other. Releasing a cry when a sword cut him, Harald sneered at the men and spread out his arms to prevent them from attacking each other.

"Enough!" Harald snarled at them, heavy pants leaving him. He turned toward the first man, dropping his arms to his sides as he addressed him. "Jarl Gorm, you say you'll never fight with Christians but what am I? Did I not spend every summer of my youth with your family? Did you not love me like a son?" He questioned, whipping his head to look at the second man. "Jarl Nori, a pious Christian. I saw your sister the night of the massacre. What would she say about your refusal to fight with your brothers here? Would she not call you a coward?" Harald looked between the two before taking a step back and facing the crowd.

"That your God is Odin or Christ means nothing to me! Only your honor does! Only your courage does!" He shouted into the night. Heaving softly, he touched a hand to his sliced arm and lifted his blood-soaked fingers into the air. "This blood is not my blood. It is our blood, it is Viking blood! And it will always be!" His words garnered cries and shouts of agreement, flags swinging back and forth. The two men nodded to Harald and retreated to their previous spots in the crowd, content with keeping the peace for the time being.

"It is going to be a long night," Leif whispered as the cheers continued. (Y/N) could only sigh in return.

➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸

"Did you sleep at all?"

"You know very well I can't sleep around strangers." (Y/N) answered with a yawn, trying to push away the exhaustion clinging to his body. Leif frowned, using his fingers to comb his hair back into a bun but before he could lecture his brother, (Y/N) turned his back to him and looked out at the bustling Vikings.

"What now?"

"We find him and we keep an eye on him," Leif answered and walked forward, the sound of singing filling the camp as Vikings went about their day. Men and women collected supplies, heaving them onto carts and helping one another. (Y/N) searched for the man, eyes flickering from face to face, never allowing his gaze to linger to avoid attracting attention to them. Feeling fingers lightly tap his arm, he followed Leifs' gaze and spotted the man walking through the ground. However, before the two could follow, Leif's shoulder was roughly grabbed and his body turned to face a stranger.

"It's them, all right." The man nodded to his friends and sneered at the brothers. "Your father is Erik Thorvaldson, yes? Erik the Red?"

"And what is that to you?" Leif asked, eyeing the men around them. (Y/N) brought his hand to his dagger's handle, looking over his shoulder at the men behind them, their shields up to block them from leaving.

"Our name is Becken. Your father killed our brother Sven." The man revealed, motioning between himself and the other Viking standing beside him.

"Our father's history has nothing to do with us." Leif retorted, reaching out to grab (Y/N)'s arm and gently push him forward, hoping to avoid a fight but one of the men cut in front of them, blocking them from getting too far and cockily grinning at them.

"Your father is a killer. Run away to escape justice. It has everything to do with you." The first man asserted bitterly. (Y/N)'s grip on the dagger tightened and he looked back at Leif, searching his face for permission to swing at the man in front of him. Leif grimaced and turned toward the man who had begun it, raising his brows.

"You're making a mistake." He warned.

Scoffing, the man in front of (Y/N) shook his head. "No, Eriksson. The mistake was yours." He declared, charging forward but before he could bring the sword down on the younger brother, (Y/N) grabbed his attacker's forearm and turned his body, slipping his dagger out while simultaneously elbowing the man directly in the nose. The man cried out in pain and stumbled backward, hand raising to touch his now bleeding nose. The pain, however, only fueled his rage and he charged again with an enraged cry. (Y/N) quickly dodged the following swing and slammed his foot into the back of his knee, sending the man toppling downward. He rolled over onto his back and attempted to get up but (Y/N) kicked his face, causing more blood to spill from his nose as his head slammed back into the grass. Retrieving the man's discarded axe from the ground, (Y/N) threw it at one of the men charging at his brother, successfully hitting him and causing the man to fall.

"Brother!" Turning, (Y/N) caught the shield Leif tossed at him and blocked a swing from a sword, using the shield to shove the man onto the ground. He spun around and leaned back, narrowly getting cut by an axe swinging in his direction. Lifting his leg, (Y/N) kicked the man in the stomach and made him stumble backward, using his momentary loss of balance to charge forward and dig the dagger into his arm. Pulling it out and panting softly, (Y/N) stepped back and briefly pressed his back against Leif's.

The man that had attacked him first blindly charged, face soaked in red. (Y/N) raised the shield to block his punch and lowered it just as quickly, swinging the dagger at his face and cutting his cheek. Moving his hands down to the bottom of the shield, he swung it sideways and hit the side of the man's face, knocking him down again. When another one charged, he did similarly, aiming at his wrist and knocking the sword from their grasp. Releasing the shield and charging, (Y/N) tackled the man onto the grass and pinned his arms down with his knees, lifting his dagger above his head and bringing it down.

"Enough!" Leif called, and (Y/N) froze, blade frighteningly close to his attacker's eye. Panting heavily, (Y/N) peered over his shoulder and spotted his brother holding a sword to the first man's throat.

"Just like your father." The man cursed, spitting out some blood and saliva.

"You're wrong." Leif lifted the sword, using the side of it to knock him out. "If I were like my father, you'd all be dead." He breathed and turned toward (Y/N), tossing the sword aside and motioning for him to stand. (Y/N) looked down at the man writhing beneath him and huffed softly, standing up and trailing after Leif.

"Taking another's life would've complicated things, (Y/N)," Leif scolded, looking back at him with a disappointed frown.

"They attacked first." (Y/N) argued with a huff. "They would've had it coming."

Sighing, Leif shook his head and looked forward. "You sound like Father." He muttered, leading his brother to a stream near the camp and crouching down by the water. (Y/N) joined him, letting the cool water wash his hands before he dipped his dagger in and cleaned it. Once satisfied, (Y/N) rose and wiped the blade against his pant leg, sheathing it and drying his hands on his pants. He caught sight of figures in his peripheral and gently kicked his brother's leg to catch his attention.

"Eriksson from Greenland. Not the sons of Viking warrior, Erik Thorvaldson, banished from Norway and Iceland for murder?" Harald tilted his head, regarding them with an amused smile. Leif stood up, shaking his hands off, and sharing a cautious glance with his brother.

"The same." He confirmed, eyes flickering to the men beside Harald. Most wore crosses.

"I suppose when you have a father like Erik the Red, you learn to fight like that." Harald chuckled, not catching the distaste that passed over Leif's features at his words.

"My name is Leif." He walked closer, tilting his head up to look at Harald.

"I'm Harald Sigurdsson. We met yesterday, though I didn't quite catch your brother's name." Harald said, tilting his head to look at (Y/N). His cocky and playful smirk made whatever respect (Y/N) had gained for him the night before wash away in an instant. His lip pulled back and he couldn't help but roll his eyes, a soft scoff escaping him. Harald merely chuckled at his distaste, eyes slowly raking over the Greenlander.

"I believe that's none of your business." (Y/N) responded, eyes trailing down from his face to the cross he wore. Harald's hand raised to toy with it, fingers wrapping around it and blocking it from view. (Y/N) lifted his gaze and met Harald's, holding eye contact for a moment before he looked away. Leif's brows furrowed slightly, glancing between his brother and Harald.

"His name is (Y/N)," Leif piped up after a moment of silence, climbing up the short hill to be at eye level with Harald. "We heard you last night. You're a good speaker. You moved many."

"Did I move you?" Harald asked, eyes remaining on the younger brother. His lips quirked into a small grin when (Y/N) refused to meet his gaze, only begrudgingly getting closer when his brother motioned for him. Crossing his arms over his chest, (Y/N) looked back at the men and briefly looked into Harald's dark eyes. When neither brother responded, Harald finally tore his eyes away and looked at the rather perplexed Leif, hand dropping from his cross. "Freydis said you captained your boat all the way from Greenland. Could use good ship captains who can fight. I can promise great glory if you join us in England."

"Glory?" Leif repeated, curiously glancing back at (Y/N). "I thought you were going to England for revenge?"

"We are. But true Vikings always reach for glory. It's what defines us."

"Like I said, you're a good speaker. I'll think about it." Leif answered grimly, although his tone made his answer rather clear and obvious. Harald's jaw clenched but he nodded, watching the brothers brush past him. (Y/N) paused, reaching out to touch Harald's cross, studying the metal and designs carved into it. Harald reached up to pull his cross out of (Y/N)'s grip, pausing when their fingers brushed against each other. His eyes lowered to look down at their hands.

"I wish you luck with our sister. You'll need it." (Y/N) murmured, releasing the cross and joining Leif in heading back to camp.

The rest of the day had gone by uneventfully as the army began moving toward Kattegat where Jarl Haakon allowed them to set up camp outside the walls of her city. She graciously opened the main hall for them, hosting a feast for the warriors ready to fight. (Y/N) and Leif wandered around the hall, keeping to the sides and mostly out of view as they waited for Freydis to slip inside and enact her revenge. A risky plan but they were aware of the dangers. Death is not the end, his mother would say to him whenever he grew afraid.

"There's Skarde." (Y/N) whispered upon spotting the man slipping into the hall. Just in time for another speech from King Canute.

"Friends!" He called from the table settled at the end of the hall, rising to his feet as the Vikings fell silent and turned toward the king. Leif walked forward, heading toward the other side of the hall as quietly as possible. (Y/N) remained on the other side, glancing at Leif as he kept to the wall but made sure to remain within their view, or rather Harald's view. It proved easier than expected seeing as Harald's eyes found him almost instantaneously.

"This is a historic occasion. Our thanks to Jarl Haakon for opening her city to our righteous cause. It is an honor to be here in Kattegat, in the great hall of Ragnar Lothbrok and his sons. To eat from the same table as Lagertha and all the heroes who came before. We are humbled and inspired by their legacy. But now is our time to make history. To show the cowards in England, that Vikings, despite our differences, are still one people. One heart. One soul." He concluded his speech and (Y/N) slipped out toward the middle of the room with Leif joining him midway as the Vikings dispersed. Finally meeting Harald's eyes, (Y/N) tilted his head at him and lifted a hand to his dagger, watching Harald's eyes narrow as they flickered to his hand. His eyes left the Greenlander for a moment.

"That's close enough, Greenlanders." One of the Christians who never seemed far from Harald spoke, stepping toward them and gripping Leif by the collar. Harald rose from his spot at the table and approached them as more men surrounded them. With his attention on the brothers, he didn't spot the cloaked figure descending upon the table with a knife in hand.

"Whatever you are planning, do not act on it. I'll kill you if I must."

"We're not the ones you should be worried about." And then, a frightened scream broke the tension.