#to the ends of the earth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ourloveisforthelovely · 1 year

Text

To the Ends of the Earth Part 20

Supernatural

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: AU Supernatural. Gabriel is tired of Micahel and Raphael’s constant interfering and dictating what’s best for him. Little do they know that he’s been sneaking to earth to fall in love with you. When he convinces you to run away with him, all hell is about to break loose.

Part 19- link

______

Neither Gabriel nor yourself said a word to each other the whole way back to the bunker. When Gabriel turned the car off, he looked at you sympathetically. Your eyes weren’t on him but at the car’s dashboard. He wanted to sight but didn’t. Gabriel wasn’t a fool. You were upset with him and honestly, he couldn’t blame you.

It didn’t take Gabriel being your soulmate to understand your feelings, yet also, be confused by them. You wanted him to be happy about the baby. What expectant mother wouldn’t want the child’s father to be happy? Gabriel understood that, but YOU didn’t understand that he couldn’t. He couldn’t be excited about some extraordinary being in the making that could destroy everything.

There is Jack…he’s good.

The thought came to Gabriel’s mind but he had to push it away too. Jack had to be that one exception. Gabriel wasn’t quite sure that his child would be “that good.”

There was also your safety. Regardless of the fact that Chuck swore to your safety, Gabriel was absolutely and positively terrified! He couldn’t even begin to phantom losing you. No part of his inner being could even think about how his life would be if something happened to you. If Gabriel lost you, he would want to die along with you. Forget raising a child that would scare the crap out of him!

You, meanwhile, hadn’t moved from your spot in the passenger seat by the time Gabriel opened your door for you. For a moment, you didn’t want to move. Sitting in the car and staring at the grey dashboard seemed to be exactly what you needed.

“Y/n…”

Gabriel said your name softly. He held out his hand to help you out of the SUV. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. After the conversation a few minutes prior, you couldn’t meet your lover’s gaze.

Am I being selfish? Did I even think of him?

These were a few of the thoughts going through your mind that you couldn’t push away. There were also the thoughts of what you “needed” too.

It will be a long nine months if he is going to bitch the whole time. I am going to need some support too…not constant condescending looks and comments…

Swallowing, you got out of the car without taking Gabriel’s hand. You heard Gabriel audibly groan as you walked past him to the entrance to the bunker.

“Y/n, you are going to have to talk to me at some point.”

You stopped and took a few deep breaths before turning to face Gabriel.

“Look, I get you were shocked by all of this. I was shocked too! Floored is more like it but it’s happening Gabriel. We had sex and you got me pregnant. Neither one of us was really planning it but it happened. I don’t know why Chuck does what he does but he paired us for a reason. I’m not giving this baby up nor am I going to regret what happened…because I don’t. You know…I’m feeling a lot of things none of which you seem to understand…hell even I don’t understand all of what I’m feeling. I’m not asking you to be over the moon with what's happening because you were entitled to your feelings too but what I want is some support. You’re supposed to be my soul mate and be on my side.”

Gabriel winced seeing the tears in your eyes. He absolutely hated knowing that he was the one making you cry.

“Y/n, I am on your side. I’m always on your side.”

You wiped your cheeks.

“It doesn’t feel like it. If I am going to spend the next nine months wondering what I am to you while you glare at me…I would rather you just go. You can find someone else to fall in love with.”

Gabriel looked floored by your comment. Did you really think that he would consider leaving? That was the LAST thing that Gabriel could even consider doing. If he left you then you would die. Your blood would be on his hands and he would never be able to live with that.

“I don’t want anyone else to love. I fell in love with you and that is all that I need…”

You turned to walk inside.

“I need some time alone.”

You murmured. Gabriel didn’t move to follow you.

“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll be back later I need to have some time to too.”

When you turned back around, Gabriel was gone. It was as if he had never been standing behind you in the first place.

Why did I say that to him?

You grumbled before turning and walking back into the bunker. Feeling 100% worse than you did before, the prospect of falling into your bed and never moving again seemed like a great idea.

Sam looked up when you came down the steps. He immediately stood up and looked at you with a worried expression.

“Where is Gabriel?”

You couldn’t meet your brother’s gaze for a moment. Looking around the room, you wondered where Dean had made off too. Something told you that you would be having to face his fury very soon too. You definitely needed a heads up on when that would happen. With Gabriel not being there to come in on your behalf, you would have to try to reason with Dean on why going through with the pregnancy was the best option. Something told you that saying “this is what I want” wouldn’t fly with your eldest brother.

“He took off. We had some words and we both need some space. Where’s Dean?”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. It didn’t take him being your brother to realize how upset you were. Your eyes were like a window to your soul…a window that Sam had to use more than he was really willing to admit to.

“He went on a beer run.”

You nodded. That didn’t surprise you. It also wouldn’t surprise you that you would take up to Dean tearing the place apart in a drunken rage.

“I’m not surprised.”

You replied as Sam pressed his lips together.

“Are you okay, Y/n?”

Your eyes rolled up to your brother. Sam was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“Did you know that you are the first person in all of this that has asked me that?”

Sam frowned. He mentally made a note to tell Dean and Gabriel both off later. While he understood both men’s reactions, neither really behaved the way that they needed to. Sure, Sam was horrified by the road that you were choosing to take…however, it was your choice. He couldn’t make you elect to have Gabriel take the baby away. Sam couldn’t make you do anything. You were a grown woman and what you chose would be what he would accept. Sam could only pray that Chuck lived up to his end of the bargain and wouldn’t let you die.

“I’m sorry. I can’t make excuses for Dean or Gabriel but you should have been asked about your feelings before. Y/n, I’m not going to pretend that I’m not worried because I’m scared to death. I don’t want to lose you but I respect your decision. I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

Sam walked over and immediately pulled you into a hug. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around your brother. Breathing Sam in, for the first time, you felt somewhat better. Someone was in your corner.

“I wish that Dean and Gabriel could see things that way.”

Sam kissed the top of your head. He made a mental note to let both men have it when they came home.

“I know. Me too. Maybe when the shock wears off, they’ll come to their senses. They both love you so much, Y/n.”

You wanted to nod in agreement but you couldn’t respond. Your better sense of self knew that Sam was right. Both Gabriel and Dean loved you. The less sensible “Mary Sue” side was still in depression over their reactions.

“I hope so. I’m going to go lie down and watch TV.”

Sam slowly let you go. He wanted to talk more but decided now wasn’t the time.

(meanwhile)

Gabriel sat across from Lucifer at a crappy little diner across town. He wasn’t 100% sure why he came to Lucifer but he did. Gabriel sat telling Lucifer everything while his elder brother frowned.

“So you are telling me that pop decided that Ms. Pretty and yourself are having a baby?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said.”

Lucifer was silent a moment as he considered his words. It was no secret to Lucifer about what Chuck’s plans were when it came to you. Lucifer was baffled when Chuck made the grand scheme to pair his younger brother with a human. As far as Lucifer was concerned, Gabriel was a good enough soldier. Throwing him into the thoroughs of love with a human woman seemed to be a bit of a downgrade.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to make sure that I heard you right and wasn’t imagining things. Wow, you're the one to knock up Ms. Pretty.”

Gabriel frowned, reminding Lucifer of the archangel that Gabriel used to be.

“Would you stop calling her that? Who else would it be? I’m her soulmate after all.”

Lucifer snorted.

“You sound so ancient right now. I don’t pretend to know why pop is doing this. I no longer try to make sense of that. How is Y/n taking it? You are acting as if the world is about to end…or whatever else it is you get upset about. You’ve always had a bit of a temper.”

“Oh, I have a temper do I? Aren’t you Satan?”

Gabriel snapped. Lucifer shook his head before holding a hand up.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you! You are having a baby with a human. Not only is that not good but you are about to have both of our dork brothers on your ass.”

“You have a child too who coincidentally my wife looks after so you are in the wrong as much as me.”

Lucifer laughed at that one.

“As you said, little brother, I am Satan.”

Neither archangel said anything for a moment. Gabriel sat wondering why in the fresh hell he even bothered with Lucifer. All that it seemed to be achieving was upsetting him worse with each passing moment.

“Look, Gabe, you are overreacting. If you want Ms. Pretty…I mean…Y/n to survive…there are ways. Use that grace that pop gave you. You’re her soul mate…keep her safe.”

“You didn’t keep Jack’s mother safe.”

Gabriel replied, earning a scowl from Lucifer.

“We weren’t on good terms. Again, this isn’t about me. What are you going to do about Michael and Raphael? I mean, Raphael is heaven’s glorified gardener. You could leave some plants out and totally distract him. Michael, however, well that won’t be pretty. He is still feeling biblical over Jack.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. It was clear that Lucifer had no idea about Raphael being dead.

“Raphael is dead, so I don’t have to worry about him. As far as Michael, he is the one that I am worried about. That’s why I am here talking to you. I’m sure I can keep my wife safe but two archangels would be better than one. We were close once upon a time. You leaving heaven devastated me whether you care about that fact or not.”

Lucifer leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t a fool. When he left heaven and the few times that Gabriel visited him on earth, he could see right through his younger brother’s “tough guy” façade.

“Let me get this straight, you want me to help you? You are coming to me for help with your problems? Wow, that hasn’t happened in millions of years and I am flattered. However, what does Y/n say about all of this? She really isn’t a pro-Luci person.”

“She doesn’t know.”

Lucifer once again looked surprised.

“You are going to have a hell of a time explaining that one to her. Gabriel, you were always my favorite. You always were and you always will be. I’m willing to help you but I’ll warn you…those Winchesters won’t be happy about it.”

Gabriel took a breath. He was no fool. Gabriel knew that you wouldn’t be happy at all. You hadn’t really forgotten how Lucifer had done your family.

“No, they won’t be but we need all of the help that we can get.”

Lucifer had to agree with that one. While he had no idea what “child rearing” involved (and he really didn’t want to find out), Lucifer knew that Gabriel was in over his head on this one.

“So what happened to Raphael?”

Gabriel chuckled at that one.

“Y/n killed him. Maybe that can be an incentive to not tick her off too much.”

Lucifer blinked a few times.

“I knew that girl had style.”

(a few hours later)

You lay sleeping on the couch. After starting a movie, you quickly fell asleep. All of the drama of the day had finally caught up with you. Your peaceful slumber, however, was interrupted when you felt a pair of arms lift you up.

“What?”

You said sleepily before slowly opening your eyes. Gabriel was carrying you bridal style toward your bedroom.

“It's alright, sugar.”

You snuggled your face against Gabriel’s collarbone and breathed in his scent. For the first time in that horrid day, you felt somewhat better.

Gabriel closed the door with his foot before gently lying you down on the unmade bed. You shoved your face into the pillow until Gabriel snapped the lights out. From his place by the door, he could see the sad expression on your face.

…She is still hurt.

Gabriel rolled his eyes at the rather stupid comment going through his mind. Of course, you were still hurt.

Taking a moment longer, Gabriel slowly got into bed with you.

“Come here, sugar.”

You didn’t hesitate to crawl over into Gabriel’s arms. As much as you wanted to be able to play hard to get, you also wanted to snuggle into your soulmate and never move again. The moment that you were against Gabriel he wrapped his arms around you.

Neither of you spoke a moment. It was Gabriel that spoke first.

“Sugar, about all of this…we really need to talk.”

You sniffed again. Gabriel froze. He once again was afraid that you were about to start crying.

“Y/n, I knew from the moment that I saw you that I loved you more than any being known to angel kind. I know you are angry with me and I don’t blame you. I, however, don’t think that you truly understand how afraid I am.”

Your eyes slowly rolled up to Gabriel.

“You aren’t scared of anything…except spiders.”

Gabriel frowned.

“You did not see the size of that spider! Contrary to your, much-appreciated belief, a lot of things scare me. You scare me. The thought of losing you and me being alone to raise our baby scares me. Y/n, I can’t stop thinking about what if I lose you. I spent millions of years waiting for you and so many more looking after you until we actually met. I don’t want to face the thought of the rest of forever alone.”

You stroked your finger over Gabriel’s chest before throwing a leg over his waist.

“I’m not going to die. We’ll figure this out…somehow. There has to be a spell or something. Cas has this theory about using your grace to get me through labor. We have time to figure something out. As far as Michael is concerned…”

Gabriel took a breath before speaking.

“Michael is the least of my worries right now. Can we not talk about him right? I’m worried about us. Y/n, I’m not mad that you’re pregnant. I suppose something told me that you would end up pregnant at some point anyway. No matter how careful I am there was always the possibility that it could happen.”

You smiled.

“Because once you get inside of me you turn into a needy manwhore?”

You were relieved to hear Gabriel chuckle.

“That is one way of looking at it.”

Gabriel placed his hand over your stomach before moving his fingers over your hipbones. He closed his eyes as the sound of the baby’s heart beating filled his mind. Gabriel took a few deep breaths as a new feeling washed over him. So this was what the paternal protective parent felt like.

I have to be feeling like a father to be willing to go to my brother for help.

Gabriel thought with a frown. He was quickly pulled from his thoughts when your lips closed on his neck.

“What are you doing, sugar?”

You quickly wiggled your way on top of Gabriel, looking down at him with a smirk.

“We should probably enjoy my body looking the way it does now…something tells me that I will look like hell before long.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers turning the lights back on. He was looking at you with a frown.

“You’ll be just as beautiful as you are now. You’re always my beautiful wife.”

“You say that now.”

You replied. Gabriel was quiet a moment before quickly flipping the position so he was on top of you. You gasped as Gabriel’s hands fell to cup your breasts.

“Gabriel, please…”

You whimpered as he rocked his hips against yours. Golden eyes rolled to yours as Gabriel leaned down to lick your bottom lip.

“I’m going to make you feel good. You thought that the sex was good that night in the car. I’m really going to make you come apart now.”

You moaned before reaching between your bodies to palm Gabriel through his jeans. When he groaned, you smiled.

“Let's have at least one good memory from today.”

Gabriel gave you a small smirk before snapping away your clothes. He looked down at your naked form before biting his lips. You looked like a total goddess lying beneath him.

You cried out when Gabriel leaned down to lick and suck at your right nipple while his fingers expertly teased your left. Make-up sex with Gabriel often made your disagreements worth it. From the time that the both of you decided to be together, Gabriel seemed to be perfect at makeup sex. He was perfect at sex in general and it often wowed you. You had been a bit embarrassed to still be a virgin the first time that Gabriel touched you.

“Now sugar, that’s what I love the most. My dick has been the only one inside of you.”

Gabriel said with a cocky smirk as he kissed his way down your body. You bit your lip as heat ran through your belly. With each movement of Gabriel’s lips, the want radiated through your body making your cunt ache with need.

“Something tells me that you are already wet.”

Gabriel said with an innocent hum.

“Yes…so wet…Gabriel, please. I need you inside of me.”

Gabriel chuckled to himself and moved no further to have his way with you. He watched your body withering to meet his mouth. When Gabriel stroked a finger over your folds down to your entrance, you could have come from that alone.

“So I heard that pregnancy hormones make you want sex a lot more.”

Gabriel commented as his golden eyes rolled up to your face. He was pleased to see how surprised you were by that statement. Swallowing, you tried to think logically.

“I’m surprised at you, Gabriel. You are already hearing things correctly.”

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“It's amazing what archangels hear and what information we hold onto. I suppose we will be seeing a lot of this room.”

“Or whatever flat surface I want you to fuck me on.”

You interrupted. Gabriel smirked.

“Anytime that you want it, sugar.”

_______

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @georgeweasleydumbhoe @justfinishthis @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @coffeeaddictednymph @millies0bsimp @fific7 @rogue-nyx88 @readtomeregulus @starsvck @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @saramaple @f4iryluvy @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @missgorldafirst @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @stelleduarte @mentally-unstable-hoe @quinis @jag9000 @gugggu6gvai @yousmellllikecaca @lostarc @un-lovesherself @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @rubyroscoe1 @ad-astra-again @criminalyetminimal @lucasfilms77 @spideyxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @li0nh34rt @tas898 @mycuddlycorner @marichromatic @melaninnbarbie

#Gabriel #Gabriel sprn #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Jack Kline #Cas #Supernatural #SPRN #Gabriel x reader #reader x gabriel #Lucifer #Michael #raphael #smut warning #To the Ends of the Earth #To the Ends of the Earth part 20 #update

61 notes · View notes

alfredosauce50 · 2 years

Text

To the Ends of the Earth [Yandere Viking! Denmark x reader]

Synopsis: Mathias is troubled by his clash with Jarl Borg, a grim reminder of what it is to be a chieftain. He seeks the Seer’s counsel for what the future holds and whether you will be a part of it. Marriage is the first challenge; staying together is the next. He goes to war with a vengeful Wessexian King, who transfers the same sentiment to his own King Horik. Conspiracies are brewing, and enemies are amassing. But he fights on, driven by your memory and a dream. Word count: 8, 832 Content warning: Adult themes, gore, and strong NSFW. Strictly R18+ The reader is referred to as she/her.

To the ends of the Earth

The finale

Like all Norse men and women, he believed in a higher power. In a world so vast and perfect, there had to be. The Gods stirred the ocean, cracked the sky open with thunder, and warmed the earth.

They decided everything, including fate.

He was never eager to learn his, having been certain of his success. And so far, he was right. He sailed west where all those before him had failed, then bested an envious rival in an unlikely turn of events. But with every feat that added to his growing fame was the growing threat of the inevitable.

Every breath he breathed condensed into a cloud of white vapor. His hair had grown into a long mullet, but even that wasn’t enough to shield against the cold. Winter was coming. Days would be shorter, nights would be longer, and temperatures plunged well below zero, freezing the waters and shriveling up crops. Yet, it was by no means dark.

Just overhead where the skies were clear, were the Northern lights—glowing rivers of green that streamed from horizon to horizon. They were shaped like ribbons and moved like water, but the celestial show did more than take his breath away. With no torch on his person, they guided him deep into the mountains. While he tread on the damp forest floor, he counted the trees he passed.

Once he reached seventeen, a wooden hut came into view. Two pikes protruded from the ground before the door, lit on fire to beckon him inside. He walked past the crackling flames and into the Seer’s domain.

“I’ve been expecting you.” A voice began. “Come in.”

Driftwood garlands hung from ceiling to floor. Deer skulls peered into the room from the walls, but the ornaments did not demand respect quite like its inhabitant. The Seer was a revered man, for even being blind, he could see things others could not.

“You’ve never once sought my counsel since becoming earl. What changed your mind?”

“Many things.” Mathias responded, taking a seat at the foot of their bed. He took on a solemn expression as he gathered himself. He hadn’t said much, yet the Seer had already reminded him of his troubles.

“Such as?”

“This year’s raids have allowed trade to flourish.”

The chieftain kept his gaze on his calloused hands. They were hardened by years of hard work in the fields, the unyielding grip on his ax and shield.

“My city is richer than it ever was before.”

“Then what are you unhappy about?”

Mathias glanced up, face darkening.

“What happened with Jarl Borg.”

The man threatened more than he could fathom, a grim but inevitable prospect he had to embrace in his chiefdom. So even in death, he cursed his name in every waking moment of the day.

“I can’t let another earl do the same again.”

“That is not up to you. But the Gods.” The Seer raised his voice with credence. “What will become of you and your city has already been decided.”

“Then what has been decided?” Mathias leaned in, darting his restless eyes over the other’s deformed face. “Will another earl wage a war with me?”

“After your victory? No.” The Seer paused, letting him bask in a moment of hope. “Someone far greater will come your way. Whether you rise to meet them will determine the future of you and your people.”

“Who?”

“You ask many questions, Mathias.”

“Because I have many questions,” He breathed out, listening to the unwavering silence before them. As persistent as he could be, he was at the hospitality of the Gods. What their messenger chose to disclose was not up to him. “Fine. Then tell me this.”

Another pause ensued.

“Will she be a part of my future?”

“You speak of her as if I know who she is,” The Seer remarked, but continued without a hitch, pointing at his forehead. “If she becomes your equal, will she not be a part of everything to come?”

Mathias left the hut. He was given a lot to mull over, an unknown enemy and someone more than familiar.

He was uncertain of many things. Whether it would rain, hail or shine was a mystery until it happened. His life, death, and everything between were in the hands of the heavens. You were the only constant. Your image in his mind, the sound of your voice.

You were as sure as the sun, and Mathias was unafraid to chase you to the ends of the Earth.

A few days later, he stopped by your house with gifts. Unlike a few months ago, they spoke of anything but parting. The gold, necklaces, and dress he had tailored to your size symbolized a union, an official bond that could tie him to you forever.

“I almost thought you weren’t coming,” A woman remarked from the kitchen. Her voice startled him, seeing as her back was turned to stir a pot over a fire. When she turned around, a small, knowing smile graced her lips. “What took you so long?”

“I had to wait for the right moment, Helga.” Mathias smiled back, setting a bag of coins on the counter. Inside was 15 ounces of gold, considerably more than a typical bride price. But it was nothing a chieftain couldn’t offer. “I didn’t want to rush her.”

“Rush her?” She laughed, returning to her cutting board. “I suppose you’re right. She used to stretch her eyes at the mere mention of you.”

“She did?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Oh, yes. She didn’t like you at all.” Helga raised her brows, slicing up some herbs and adding them to the bubbling stew. “The first time you brought up marriage, she stormed into this kitchen, cursed you, then chopped up a carrot like it was you.”

“Like I was the carrot?”

“Part of you, anyway.”

It was Mathias’s turn to laugh now. Thinking about the past reminded him of how far he’d come. It should’ve been relieving, but overcoming one hurdle only meant facing another—asking the question and hoping for the answer he wanted. A woman’s say in marriage wasn’t necessary, especially for a man like him. But to Mathias, your word was everything.

He turned to the backyard. You were drying fish with Emil, reminiscent of the day he first sailed west and, of course, your colorful refusal of his propositions.

So much had changed since then. You no longer cast him out but welcomed him into your house and person. Even now, as he watched you do chores on the cliffside, you were happy to reciprocate it.

You turned to him and smiled.

When he caught it, his lips separated agape.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” Mathias breathed, never tearing his gaze from you. Every muscle in his body was urging him to you, but with equal force that compelled him to stay was the tantalizing suspense. Your mother didn’t answer and kept stirring the pot. The crackling of flames was becoming a mark of his anxieties, just like fire was a medium for the future.

“She’s madly in love with you, if that’s what you wanted to ask.” She replied, the words getting his face to flush red. Knowing it was one thing, but hearing it made him feverish with yearning.

“What else could I be asking?” He sighed, turning back to her. “We’re getting married.”

“Yes, but there’s always been more to her. I’m sure you’ve already noticed that she has a sense of pride.”

“I have.”

“She isn’t intimidated by your authority anymore,” The other continued, scooping the stew into four bowls, one smaller than the rest. The pungent smell called you in, so Mathias wouldn’t have been able to respond when your mother told him this.

“What she doesn’t like is to feel small. And you, my dear, are the biggest name in all of Denmark.”

The hall was abuzz with conversation, but the unease was unlike any other day. Men were shouting unintelligibly at one another, some shaking their heads, others wearing solemn faces. It was the fourth time the Northmen had invaded their shores, raiding their stores and laying waste to their lands. Thrice in Northumbria and once in Wessex, the very kingdom they stood in and believed impenetrable.

“My friends,” The voice could barely count as a shout, but it demanded the immediate silence of the hall. Everyone turned to the figure on the throne, their king and ruler. “Those pagan heathens are celebrating while we stay embroiled with discourse. They cannot be dealt with any sooner than when we finally come together in agreement.”

“Then what will we do, sire?” One of the lords asked, briefly joined by a hush of murmurs. “They grow in number with every attack. It’s impossible to gauge how many there will be the next time they come.”

“But we have the home ground advantage,” The king responded. “The men they bring are all the men they have. Our forces can be readied with more flexibility.”

“But what about their ships? They never venture far from them, and I’ve never seen ships that fast.”

“Their ships can even sail up rivers,” Another added, face tense. “Just as they can cross oceans.”

“The answer is simple, then.” The king rose his brows at the riotous lot before him. “If we cannot out-sail them, we won’t chase them. And if we cannot predict their next attack, we won’t. Instead, we will take the fight to them when they least expect it.”

“But we would have to cross the ocean in Winter,” The same man argued. “It cannot be done.”

“Weren’t you the one who spoke of ships that could cross rivers and oceans?” The king replied, irritated by the hypocrisy of his court. The question silenced the hall once more. “You all talk of these Northmen with the same revere as the supernatural. If a band of barbarians can accomplish those feats, are we not capable of sailing through a little ice?”

Once the court dissolved, the king retired to his chambers. As he stood facing the window, he stared down at the green meadows below, rich with foliage.

“The leader of these Pagans,” He began, never tearing his gaze from the pristine scenery outside. “What do you know about him?”

“He’s a regional ruler, sire. A chieftain.”

“A chieftain.” The other narrowed their emerald eyes. It was insulting to think someone below him could defeat his forces with such prowess. He couldn’t imagine what possibly had become of other towns. “I’ve heard stories. They kill without conscience, sacrifice their own people and worship false Gods.”

The king turned around to face his closest subject, expression knowing and fierce with credence.

“We cannot guarantee we’ll find him, but we’ll attack the first city we find. These Danes must know we’re as capable as they are, and who brought us to them.”

Mathias glided a knife across the back of his head, cutting off his mullet. It was unwise to wear his hair this short, but it was a feature of youth.

While he shaved off the sides, he kept trimming and trimming to fix what was uneven. Once satisfied, he studied himself in the mirror. Mathias cut his hair shorter than he planned, but he looked good enough.

It was also a symbol of new beginnings.

He told you to meet him on the beach after you finished your work. Surely enough, you came, finding him on the ground and staring out into the fjord.

“Mathias,” You began, chest heaving. He never called you out to a place like this. He could only want one thing with the ambiance of the tranquil waters, and you couldn’t contain your apprehension.

“You came.” He stood up with a gentle smile.

“Of course I came.” You softened your gaze, taking in his face with a smile of your own. However, it faltered at the sight of his hair, or lack thereof.

“What, you don’t like it?”

You let out a breathy laugh.

“No, it’s just that it’s so short!” You spun him around, reeling at what you saw. With so much cut off, he looked no more than a mere farmer, no more than the boy he used to be. What could have compelled him to do so was beyond you, but he always had a way of getting you to understand. “It suits you.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Mathias grinned, pulling you into a warm hug. You returned it without a second thought, breathing in the scent of his hair and clothes. “Aren’t you going to ask about it?”

“I thought I’d let you ask the questions,” You uttered, tightening your arms around him.

His heart quickened.

Without another word, he pulled away, his cheeks rosy as he watched you with an unreadable expression. Then, he got down on one knee.

The wedding was to take place on the first Friday of Winter; next week. After proposing to you, he couldn’t contain his excitement about being your fiancé. In his delirium, he made immediate arrangements for the ceremony, followed by a seven-day celebration of feasting, drinking, and games.

Asking him to wait out the colder months was like asking him to wait for the grass to grow, literally and figuratively. Mathias had waited long enough, and in his insistence, you were left scrambling to prepare.

The pre-ceremonial ritual was simple; removing your kransen, visiting the city’s bathhouse, and being enthused about the horrors of married life.

Being mentally prepared was another story.

“I’d tell you all about Arne, but I doubt he’s anything like Mathias,” Thyra declared, scooping some water and splashing it onto the hot rocks. White steam erupted with a hiss, engulfing the sauna in a warm mist. “Sweats through the mattress and eats like a horse. Leaves a mess everywhere he goes, that one.”

“You just described him perfectly.”

“Who, Arne?”

“No, Mathias.”

“Then I take that back,” She blinked, leaning against the wall. “He is a man, after all. They’re one gene away from the rest of the animal kingdom.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about looking after farm animals, human or not,” Your mother raised her brows for a look of amusement. Here you thought the preparations would be more suffocating, but the only thing suffocating about them was the sauna. “We won’t have to farm or do housework anymore.”

“What about our house?” You asked.

“Don’t you know? Mathias has servants to tend to it now. And you’ll be living with him.”

It was practically unheard of, not slaving away day and night. But being wed to an earl had its benefits.

“We’re free to do what we want now.”

He stayed true to his word when he said he would give you freedom. In a society where free men and women were worked to the bone, he had given you time and liberty, real freedom. It was the greatest gift anyone could receive, and it warmed your heart to realize. But that begged the question, what could you give in return? It was on all your minds, and Thyra was only the first one to say it.

“You’re free to do what you want, Helga,” She noted, picking up a pail of cold water. Mixed in it were oils, herbs, and flowers to enhance the scent. But more importantly, its properties as an aphrodisiac. When you glanced at the contents, your nerves were shot at the thought of being doused in it. “Your daughter may be the chief’s wife, but she’s still a woman.”

Standing on the altar with Mathias felt like a dream. The pier was overwhelmed with flowers, and the air was sweet with cypress. The whole city was there to watch, but you never looked at them once.

The golden light of the setting sun cast him in a heavenly glow. And his hair, a fair blonde, left luminous upon his head. You were enchanted by his image, the warmth of his smile. Mathias was beautiful, and you felt tears come just by looking at him. He wiped them away before exchanging swords with you, a symbol of everlasting protection.

He would watch over you forever, and you, him.

To consummate the marriage, you were both accompanied to his bedroom by six witnesses.

They never stayed long, and after they filed out, it was just you and Mathias in the candlelight. He didn’t say anything and stripped out of his clothes, filling the silence with the rustling of fabric. Once he was naked, he climbed onto bed and laid on his back.

“I’ve never eaten that much in my life,” He sighed contentedly, folding his arms behind his head.

You relaxed some, turning to the corner to start undressing. Something about Mathias made it easy to be with him. He never made a big deal out of anything, taking away from the formalities.

It held true for his character, and you found that endlessly comforting. But the moment you let your guard down was the moment he changed, wholly and entirely. Seeing your back and spine did it for him—he’d never seen you in so less, so his thoughts didn’t just wander. They were thrust into where they always ended up, and he couldn’t ignore them.

Not on his wedding night.

“I hope you ate your fill,” Mathias appeared from behind, snaking his arms around your stomach. “Because we’re burning it all off tonight.”

“You tricked me,” You let out, face warming as he coiled tighter around your waist like a serpent. It wasn’t the same without a layer of fabric to separate him from you. Feeling his bare skin against your back and everything below it left you feverishly mortified.

“Tricked you?” He whispered, pressing his cheek to yours. The curves of your back were flush against him, sending a hot twitch down his manhood. He was already at half-mast, and his mind, hazing with perversion. “I thought you knew. We’re supposed to make love to consummate the marriage.”

“But what if I get pregnant?” You asked faintly, chest drumming at the thought. The question itself was self-explanatory. You were meant to conceive with him, but you hoped he would be a little more understanding. “I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

Having a baby couldn’t excite him more, the mere suggestion of it awakening a sort of manic lust. In truth, he hoped to impregnate you. But he couldn’t give in to his desires at your expense, could he?

“Why not?” Mathias whispered, reaching down to give your stomach a gentle palm. His other arm tightened around you, letting you feel every inch of his dick against your back. “I’ll look after you and our family. Don’t you want to have my baby?”

“It’s not that I don’t want your baby,” You breathed, shivering from the eager prodding against your skin. He was already rock-hard from the conversation, and it was hot to realize how much he wanted it.

Mathias was ready to take you.

He was only waiting for your permission, but fortunately for him, you had a soft spot for his touch. It didn’t help how further down his hands wandered, which stroked your delicate folds for a reaction.

“Mat,” You heaved, closing your eyes as he sunk his fingers between them. He rubbed around to find your clit, which he didn’t hesitate to start playing with. “Not so hard—do it gently—”

“Okay…” He whispered, moving around your clit in soft, circular motions. Slowly, his fervent rubbing began to feel good, and you threw your head back in pleasure as he built up speed. “How does that feel?”

Too inundated by his fingers, you never managed a coherent answer. Soft moans poured from your mouth like a faucet, and hearing it had his cock dripping with pre-cum. He was throbbing for you, and he indulged himself in the only way he could.

Mathias slid his dick between your thighs.

He held them together as he thrusted against your folds, rolling his eyes back at the sensation.

Being so tall and well-endowed, he was lifting you slightly off the ground with his manhood. That increased the pressure more than any of you could handle, but he only sped up from there, pushing you closer and closer to a hot climax.

If he wasn’t sliding against your entrance, he was rubbing himself against your clit, kissing it with the head of his cock. The hot, wet friction left you both panting. Blood flushed his face, neck, and ears as he lost his mind to white-hot pleasure.

But you were already gone.

Your resolve to resist him was waning, evident in the hazing in your eyes. There was nowhere to go except his embrace, nothing to feel except his body, and nobody else your heart could ache for. So you let go, falling into the warm fire that was Mathias.

“Go deeper, Mat….” You breathed, voice hitching to the rhythm of his strong thrusts. Your head was rolled back as he held you against a wall, pounding you to oblivion. While you hung off his neck, there wasn’t anything you could do except give in to him.

This had been his plan all along; to seduce you until he could have his way with you. But then again, saying ‘no’ to Mathias was impossible.

He was persistent, and you had a weakness for him he couldn’t help taking advantage of. So here you were, letting him make love to you until he had his fill.

“If I go deeper—” He panted, pushing himself in until he was down to his balls. The tip of his cock was now kissing your cervix, and seeing your legs tremble had him aching to release. “—I’ll go into your stomach.”

“Not that deep, idiot.” You heaved.

Mathias was either bad at following direction or too indulgent to care. To make up for it, you bit into his neck, hard, leaving teeth marks on his skin.

What was meant to be retribution turned him on more than he could handle. He loved it when you got feisty, so he was back to bouncing you again, turning your complaints into moans and breathy utterances.

Licking up the spit on your chin, he silenced you completely by tonguing you down. Strings of saliva draped in his brief parts, but they never broke when he kept rejoining his mouth with yours.

While he kissed you breathless, invading your throat with the taste of him, he resumed his strong thrusts. Mathias was inside you in more ways than one, and you were losing yourself to him.

Your chest was heaving, your head was spinning, and all you knew was Mathias. The gliding of his tongue against yours, his hot manhood pumping in your walls, and his warm breath pouring into your lungs.

When he moved you to the bed, lowering you down with the utmost gentleness, you gave in to him, spreading your legs with a sultry look.

Your face was flushed, eyes watery with desire, and Mathias loved the way you looked at him. He had you in every way someone could be had, mind, soul, and body, and he was taking them all tonight.

He made love to you for hours, pinning his elbows on either side of your head so he could pound you into the mattress. Cum was frothing where your bodies connected, but dripped and draped everywhere else.

Your stomach and legs were splattered with his balmy release, more of it being stuffed in your womb. With so much of him on and inside you, it was safe to say you smelled more like him than he did himself.

Mathias had claimed you in the rawest way possible. You were all his, and every bit of unreturned affection was being overturned in these fateful developments. You were his wife and soon, the mother of his children. Thinking about it sent a hot twitch down his cock, and with one final plunge of it into your tight walls, he reached a hard climax.

His face scrunched up in ecstasy as he released his semen into your womb. His balls pulsed with every ejaculation, and you felt every jet of his cum, filling you to the brim. Mathias came countless times inside you already, but he was insatiable.

He had the strength of an ox and the stamina to match. But for you, he had an insatiable libido. Nothing would be enough until he could see himself growing inside of you, swelling you up with his child.

“I can see myself in your tummy,” He smiled floatily, watching your stomach bulge every time he plunged into you. He was hung like a horse, and it was endlessly hot to see it show. “If we keep having sex, there will be an even bigger bump, kæreste…”

“Don’t talk like that…” You heaved, closing your eyes as he started rocking back and forth. He was as equally honest as he was a pervert, and hearing him speak his mind left you feening for him.

“But it’s true.” He kissed up your neck, dragging his tongue along your jaw. You never responded, too inundated by his thick cock slamming into you like a jackhammer. He was sliding against your clit from the inside, making it pop with every roll and grind.

Seeing it drove him crazy, so he only sped up to pound you even harder. He pushed you faster and faster to your zenith, shattering your mind with a hard orgasm. It came in waves, and while he helped you ride it out, your legs were shaking.

And your breasts, bouncing furiously to his thrusts.

It was so lewd, a single glimpse of it could get his heart aching. And Mathias wasn’t shy to smother his face into your chest. He kissed your breasts before sucking on your nipples, pulling on them with his lips until he had enough of your taste.

You dug your hands into his hair, letting him do as he pleased. Having him inside you felt like scratching an itch you couldn’t reach until now. Mathias was touching a place nobody else could, and reaching a depth you didn’t know to be possible.

Doing something so carnal was equally intimate, and you couldn’t get enough.

Not until he filled you up one last time, and your ears were ringing from another intense orgasm.

When you both finished, he sat cross-legged on the mattress. You were on his lap, surrounded by his warm embrace. Unlike before, the kiss he shared with you wasn’t laden with lust.

It was gentle on your lips, every peck, every lick.

While your mouth connected with his, an unbearable sadness welled in your chest. You should’ve been happy, joining hands with your childhood friend.

Mathias wasn’t the same as he used to be, but he was still Mathias. His smile, laugh, and unwavering zest for life never left him, and instead, grew with each passing day. But the relief of being with him came hand in hand with the fear of losing him.

He saved you in every way someone could be saved. In a world torn by violence, his gentle embrace protected you from bloodshed. And in the dark ages of paranoia, he delighted you with his curiosity.

He picked up a sword so you wouldn’t have to, and to welcome death with every step he made left you aching to hold him close. Your arms tightened around his neck, and you towered higher over him, kissing him harder than you ever did before.

He could feel his lips getting swollen from your relentless affection. For the first time, Mathias was struggling to keep up with you.

It spoke volumes, so when you parted over him, he flickered his eyes over your face. Feeling tears dot his cheek answered more than he wanted.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, brows joining in a deep frown. His hands went up to your cheek, and you pressed into it quietly. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You closed your eyes. “I just missed you.”

“Missed me?” Mathias softened his gaze.

“I missed you the most when I pushed you away.” You pressed your forehead to his. He pressed back with equal force, kissing away the glistening trails on your cheek. All the words were stuck in your throat, and once you started, you couldn’t stop.

Everything came spilling out like a broken dam.

“But now that I have you, I don’t want you to keep leaving. What if you never come back?”

Your greatest fear was a euphemism for his death. But somewhere down the line, they became synonymous. It reminded him of what the Seer said, a morbid warning of the inevitable. He could never be free of war, no matter how deeply he wished it.

Mathias took you out on a boat to cheer you up.

Under the ethereal glow of the Northern lights, he rowed you out into the water. You would’ve leaned back to the sky, but it was nothing compared to what was in front of you. While he moved the oars, he was going on and on about taking you around the world. His eyes were alight with passion, and he included you in every one of his greatest fantasies.

“England is only the first place I’ll discover. With more men and better ships, we can go to even more countries,” Mathias breathed, jetting clouds of white out of his lips. “Not to raid, I mean. To travel.”

“To travel,” You pondered, taken by the wondrous suggestion. It was always a fleeting dream of yours, to travel as men did. “What about our life here?”

“In this city? Why should we stay here when there’s so much more out there?” He grinned. In truth, leaving his hometown meant abandoning everything he had—his belongings, his people, and his authority as a chieftain. But to find a better place, a land rich with green or warm all year round, he was willing to make those sacrifices. “Just think about it, kæreste. Raising our family somewhere that’s meant for life.”

You fell silent, never interrupting him as he spoke. Behind his boundless admiration was a sadness that could fill oceans, but he covered it with a rosy smile.

“Huge cities of stone and marble. Desert oases and palm trees,” He stopped rowing, letting the boat drift by itself. While he eyed you with an expectant look, he added this faintly. “Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

“Anything sounds amazing when you talk about it,” You smiled, watching his expression falter. It seemed like you were shutting him down, but your intentions couldn’t be any further from it. “I’d go anywhere with you, Mat. I could follow you to the ends of the Earth.”

Your words paralyzed him with happiness, but what you said next took the air out of his lungs.

“I love you.”

He hung his head, smiling gently. He should’ve been euphoric, hearing what he always yearned to. Mathias had always been waiting for you to let him in, but now that he reached the deepest part of you, he realized that nothing would ever be enough.

“I’d say I loved you to death, but that would be a lie.”

When he felt your arms around him, his anguish finally rose to the surface, running down his face in bitter tears. He clung to your waist with grave desperation, burying his face into your stomach.

“Having you in this life isn’t enough. I want to have you in the next, and the one after that.” He cried.

Life was fragile, fleeting from his fingertips no matter what he did. Death, however, was inevitable, so he thought of the only salvation to it.

Endless rebirth, just to be by your side.

An arrow whistled through the sky. It sunk into the watch tower with a sharp ‘thunk.’ Before the guard could process the sound of it bouncing against the post, a deafening ensemble of whistling followed. When he glanced up, hundreds of arrows were raining down from above.

One shot through his neck, leaving him gurgling in blood as another pierced his stomach.

“Saxons.” He declared, voice thick with contempt. The clothes they wore, the language they spoke, the invaders were from anywhere but Scandinavia.

There was only one place they could’ve hailed from, just across the North Sea—the kingdoms of England, all hellbent on revenge against the Danes who trespassed their shores. Standing from his desk, he marched out of his study with wolf’s fur in hand.

“Evacuate as many people as you can. We cannot fight this ambush.” The man ordered, chest heaving.

“What about you, King Horik?”

“Make a course for Jarl Densen’s city,” He glanced back at his steward. “We need his aid. He has the most experience dealing with these Christians.”

The King sailed in through the fjord, but there was no fleet to accompany him. Only his family, who stood by his side on a single longship. There were no shields lining the sides to give it any color, nor flowers for any flair. When the earl witnessed their arrival, the reason for visitation was jarringly clear.

“I must thank you for your overwhelming hospitality.” Horik raised a drinking horn at him. Here in the great hall, the chieftain was kind enough to throw a banquet to welcome his guests. “Not just anybody would hold such a magnanimous feast in winter, let alone for unexpected guests. Skål, Jarl Densen.”

“Of course, King Horik.” Mathias hardened his stare, raising a horn of his own. If he were to be well and truly honest, a feast was the least he could do. “When I heard you were attacked by the Englanders, I was already involved. My men and I were the first to make contact with them, after all.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of your ventures. Your reputation precedes you.” The other replied, pausing to slice his pork roast. Forking a piece into his mouth, he returned the gaze with a grim one. “While I revere your achievements, I’m afraid your ties to the Saxons have doomed all of Denmark to war.”

“Then we will go to war.” Mathias glowered. These developments couldn’t be more unwanted, but what choice did they have? It was with a heavy heart that he made this commitment, and he could only hope for a speedy resolution. “Our alliance should be more than enough to crush their forces. After which, we will chase them back to where they came from and raid until all they have is the dirt beneath their feet.”

“You didn’t eat much during dinner,” You heard him say. The atmosphere was somber, and yet, he talked like it wasn’t. Just when you started appreciating his nonchalance, it became a menace to your person.

“I wasn’t hungry,” You murmured, dipping a finger into a tin of lanolin. Rubbing some on your hands, you approached Mathias in bed and started applying it to his chapped lips. He watched your movements, every swipe, and every twitch of your brows.

“That’s no good,” He uttered, mindful of the oil on his mouth. “If you’re hungry, I’ll fetch you some herring.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mat. You’ve done more than enough today.” You pecked him on the cheek.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. If I wanted something to eat, I’d get it myself.” You curled up next to him, eyes trailing over his slight frown. Without another word, he sat up and scooted off the bed. You took his wrist before he could stand. “It’s fine, Mathias. I’m really not hungry.”

“I feel like you’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” You pulled him back in, much to his discontent. He laid down on your lap, but stared up at you stubbornly. “Why are you so eager?”

“I’m just thinking about our baby,” Mathias sighed, pressing his face into your warm stomach. You softened your gaze, but never opened your mouth to interrupt him. “I want you to be well looked after. What kind of husband would I be if you weren’t?”

“I am well looked after,” You stroked his hair gently. With so many burdens of his own, you would’ve hoped to relieve some of them. But all you did was add to them, and it hurt more than you could say. “And we don’t know if I’m pregnant yet.”

“Let’s say you are. What then?” He straightened up, catching you in another defiant gaze.

“We carry on like normal,” You said. His insistence was something else, and only seemed to grow with every word you spoke. “It’s only been two weeks, Mat. I’m sure I can tough it out for a little longer.”

“No. If you have my child, I’m staying around you as much as I can,” The steely look in his eyes never faltered, not even as he made the most unreasonable demands. “And I forbid you from doing any work.”

“You’re not making any sense.” You frowned, closing your eyes as he pecked your lips. He kissed you once, then twice, but his persistent affection couldn’t stop you from pointing out the obvious. “There’s barely any work for me to do, now. And besides—”

Mathias wrapped himself around you, sensing your resistance. If he could get you to give in, just one last time, he could sleep soundly knowing you were safe.

“—I can’t keep relying on you.”

“I don’t agree,” He frowned back. His hands traveled up your waist, settling just below your breasts. While he held you around your ribs, he whispered this into your ear, voice gentle. “You need me.”

“I do need you,” You hugged him close, listening to the gentle drumming within. The carnal beating of his heart was a surefire sign he was alive, and at the same time, a reminder he was vulnerable to everything that could stop it. “But you won’t always be here. I have to manage by myself, somehow.”

“I’ll always be here,” He let out. He was losing you, and he thought of the only remedy to it; being overzealous. “This war will be fast, I promise. Then we’ll be together again like it never happened.”

“You can’t promise those things, Mat.” Your face contorted with pain. His lips pursed and his eyes grew wide. Mathias had never been so keen to argue, but there was nothing he could say in the face of the truth. “Only the Gods know what will happen.”

Just once, you wanted him to listen, but he was too far gone. Lost in fantasy and obsessed with a dream, he would stop at nothing to achieve them.

“You have to trust me to look after myself.”

“I do trust you,” He pressed his forehead to yours, mouth trembling agape. “But I don’t want you to.”

Mathias grieved the day you would ever have to fend for yourself. Not again. The thought enraged him more than he could fathom, but as of now, it was only sadness that choked him from the inside out.

Giving his reins a mighty whip, he charged forward on his horse and galloped across the plains. His men raced behind, following him to a walled-up fortress in the distance. Smoke rose from within.

When I come back, I will teach you everything I know, he told you. Inside his study was a deluge of souvenirs, courtesy of all the places he explored. Sitting you on his lap, he pulled out an opaque rock and sun-shadow board. How to navigate, sail, and all the languages they speak beyond the seas.

When he got inside, everything had been destroyed. The houses, burned, and the livestock, slaughtered. As for the king’s people, starving in the mountains. His warriors had been anxious for his return, hoping for the reinforcements he promised.

We will travel the world together, free from conflict.

“King Horik,” His steward ran up to him. They stood in front of the camp, well away from the earshot of others. Mathias and his men had settled around the campfire, unloading supplies and preparing food. “Your presence is as welcome to us as spring after the hardest and most bitter winter.”

“How are my men doing?” He brushed past him.

“Good, my lord. But I must speak with you, urgently.”

“Can’t it wait, Rune?” Horik continued.

“I have a message from the Saxon king.”

He stopped, nostrils flaring.

“What is it?”

“When you left, he sent scouts into the mountains,” Rune spoke breathlessly. His king turned to him, perplexed, and even more so when the other began ushering him away. “They found us. But they left us alive so you could consider a proposal. A treaty.”

“What treaty?”

“A peace treaty. The only condition is that you join forces with him against Jarl Densen.”

“I hate how quiet it is.” Thyra swung a wooden sword at her side, watching the same water channel as you.

Out there in the fjord was where Mathias sailed away with his fleet. Two days passed since he departed, leaving the city in your hands. It wasn’t new, being without the men. Now and then, all the warriors vacated their homes for expeditions. But their absence marked a dark period of uncertainty, having left the women, children, and elderly by themselves.

“He took all the best fighting men with him.”

“Then what are you doing here?” You hummed.

“Someone had to stay back and look after the rest,” She smiled, offering you a hand to take. Your fingers slid into her palm, hardened by farming and fighting alike. “And teach you how to use an ax. Come on.”

Without any chores to stay active, you found some joy in sparring with a friend. Mathias forbid you from many things, but picking up weapons was, by far, the most illicit of them all. He would’ve lost his mind if he knew what you were doing, for with every swing of your blade, you were stepping deeper and deeper into the world he desperately wanted you out of.

“And why is he so sure that I would betray my ally for him? The Christian who burned my town to ashes?”

“Because, lord,” Rune frowned, leaning in to say what had to be said. The English King was as ambitious as he was cunning, and would strike the Danish King where it hurt most. “Mathias Densen is why he has come to Denmark, and why your lands are lost.”

Horik narrowed his eyes.

He couldn’t deny the beginnings of this conflict, and had been willing to look past it. But he couldn’t ignore a third contender for power, either.

“After defeating the Saxons, your city will not build itself back. Who is to say that Jarl Densen won’t take advantage of that weakness? He is an opportunist.”

Mathias was eating with his war band, laughing and making faces around the fire. There they watched, king and aid, riddled with growing suspicion.

It was no secret he killed his previous ruler to assume his place. He was also the first to sail west, a pursuit once deemed by many a deluded fantasy. Their ally didn’t believe in tradition, let alone authority.

“And how does he suppose I fight against him?”

King Horik delivered news to the camp, announcing his contact with the Saxon King. The English were eager for battle, having given a place of meeting.

In three days, the Danish mobilized hundreds of warriors and shield-maidens. They marched into an open field, axes at the ready and eyes smeared with black kohl. Their leader wore the most formidable look, dark blue warpaint in the shape of a handprint.

“King Æthelwulf wants you to kill him in his sleep.”

An army appeared at the top of the hill, flying a foreign flag. Mathias slammed his ax against the center of his shield for a loud, metal clank. He sped up in rapid progression, joined by the rest of his men. They beat their weapons furiously, never taking their eyes off the enemy standing on the horizon.

The victor would decide the future, and the defeated, a victim of it. One would expand, the other, decline. That was the outcome of all battles, only this was a conspiracy. Their King had lost faith in his subjects.

With a synonymous battle cry, they charged forward.

“Odin!”

Mathias raced towards the hill, heart racing and mouth agape. He sunk his ax into the closest man, ripping their chest open. Clashing shields with another, he shoved them to the ground before hacking their head off. Blood spilled over the earth, and more sprayed onto his face.

The crimson was a fine contrast to his blue eyes, but the smell of iron never faze him. Nor did the clanging of metal, or the screams of fallen men. His senses were dulled, yet sharpened at the same time.

He was mad with vengeance, sparing no remorse for the soldiers who dared cross his path. Slashing one in the neck, he kicked their body away before taking down another. He fought with the anger of ages, driven by the promise he made to you.

Mathias would return and take you someplace safe. Somewhere free. Somewhere he could make life with you, and to realize that dream, he would gladly take it away all the same. His only regret was that he couldn’t obliterate the enemy army by himself.

No matter how hard he pushed, how well he fought, he was only one man. When he stopped to look back at his warriors, many had perished. Horik’s were no better, but the rate at which his people fell was alarming. Just when he began to suspect foul play, his King appeared at his side. He defended him against an incoming Saxon soldier, saving his life.

“When his men have thinned out Jarl Densen’s, you can attack him in his camp with more ease.”

The English retreated two hours later, saving what was left of their forces. By then, Mathias’s army was cut down by half, a little under what Horik had.

That begged the question, how could he enter a battle with more men than his ally, only to leave with less? It troubled the young earl enough for victory to go uncelebrated. While the sounding horn went off, signifying their triumph, he could only pant in exhaustion. Others rejoiced and chanted.

But the exhilaration of his friends was infectious. Mathias eventually found solace around the campfire, albeit deafened by the singing of his proud warriors. And with enough mead to go around, his worries reduced to nothing but fleeting thoughts. He won. What more could he ask for?

By the time dinner concluded, everyone retired to their tents, drunk off glory. But not the King and his men, who only feigned their intoxication.

In the dead of the night, he left his bunk with a lamp in one hand and a dagger in the other. He gave an order to slit every one of their allies’ throats. And their leader, he would have for himself.

“If you cut off his head and bring it to him, he’ll help you conquer his city as your own.”

Horik slipped into Mathias’ tent. Approaching his hammock with soundless steps, he readied his blade as he neared the bump beneath the blanket. His lamp flickered, plunging the room into a moment of darkness. When the flame stabilized, he removed the blanket and glanced down at the heap of supplies where Mathias’s sleeping body should’ve been.

His blood ran cold.

“I would kill you right now, but what good is a dead hostage?” Someone asked from behind, voice dripping with malice. He didn’t need to see their face to know who it was, not that he even could. The frozen edge of an ax was pressed against his throat, digging deep enough into his flesh for a slither of blood to form. A hand gripped his wrist so tight, it popped, forcing him to drop his dagger. He was cornered, caught amidst a wicked act of treason.

If not fear, a stinging pain engulfed his throat, but he still choked out this mind-bending question.

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t.” Mathias grimaced, letting his expression darken. “I was just never asleep.”

“But you were drunk,” Horik seethed through his teeth. The blade sunk further into his neck, making him wince. “You had four rounds of mead—”

“Even if I was drunk, I can’t fall asleep without my wife beside me.”

The revolt quickly died when the Jarl appeared with their King at knifepoint. As Mathias stepped into the clearing, he ordered his men to kill all those who stayed loyal to their ruler.

A bloody massacre unfolded, and it was just enough to make up for all those lost in battle.

Longboats appeared in the fjord two days later. The entire city flocked to the beach, relieved to see their husbands, sons, and fathers return. You were one of them, heart racing with a euphoria you came to embrace. Mathias finally came home, and judging from the exhausted smile on his face, he won. But his victory was far more comprehensive than you could imagine, even if you played a part in it.

When you joined him on the pier, exchanging a much-needed embrace, he breathed in the sweet scent of your hair. The smell was a stark contrast to the iron on his skin, truly bringing him home. And for that, days’ worth of fatigue caught up in an instant.

While he spoke to you, he could only manage a hushed murmur. How you were doing, then how his people were doing. But when Horik passed him in chains, shooting you a dirty look, he found the energy to threaten him one last time. The worm set his treacherous gaze upon you, one that wished death on the woman who did so much, yet to little.

For that, he would grant him a fate worse than death.

“My men died for you.” Mathias leaned in with a whisper. His expression was unreadable, but his icy blue eyes burned into him with unspeakable hatred. “I was only going to kill you for betraying me. But because you looked at my wife, I’ll turn you into a blood eagle. I’ll tear out your lungs, King.”

Horik was dragged away, begging for death.

He struck fear into his heart like never before, and for good reason. That night, Horik was stripped of his kingly robes and forced to the ground. His back was sliced open, his skin spread out like wings. Each of his ribs was snapped and pulled back, flaring out like spikes. That left his lungs, which were torn from his body so he could suffocate to death.

He was propped up on a podium for the entire city to watch. You were one of the few who stayed inside, but the company made it more than worthwhile.

After washing every drop of blood off his body, Mathias joined you in the bedroom, smothering you with the affection he saved over many sleepless nights. He kissed you, not until his lips grew swollen, but until he couldn’t anymore, overtaken by fatigue.

You held him close, naked bodies tangling like yarn. He stayed true to his promise, and you couldn’t revere him more for it. Mathias was the single most hopeful person you ever met. But he was capable all the same, so nothing felt impossible with him.

“King Mathias,” A man kneeled by his throne. Yours was right beside his, only you preferred standing next to him. That way, he could hold your hand or feel around your stomach. Three months had passed since you married him, and a small bump had grown.

Even now, he had his head on it, warming the side of his face with your tummy. You let him, combing your hand through his soft, blonde hair.

“Mat, Frode has something to say to you.”

He was taken by your touch, the sound of your voice. And for that, he was indisposed to acknowledge his ship-builder. After all, there were only so many things that could demand his undivided attention. But what he heard next was a perfect paragon of all of them.

“It’s ready.”

Mathias led you down to the beach, eyes wide and chest heaving. You were more out of breath than he was, so he picked you up in a bridal-style carry.

You couldn’t be happier, but he kept proving you wrong, delighting you with every little thing he did. The same could be said for his greatest gift to you. Mathias had given you freedom, but he outdid himself yet again, giving you the gift of movement. Of travel and enlightenment.

He kissed your forehead one last time before letting you down. There you stood, onboard the grandest Viking ship of your time. And he was going to take you to the edges of the world with it.

Next: Dancing with Wolves

95 notes · View notes