A full moon was shining down on the village of Yogsta, further enlightened with torches which were placed in between all of the buildings, alongside the muddy dirt paths. Usually, nobody would take the risk to use that much fire around longhouses mostly built out of wood. The village was dark at night, just like the Gods had intended. This wasn't a regular night however, the noises of vikings feasting were even louder than usual. Norsemen knew their way around the mead for sure, but this was a special occasion for sure. The marriage between the beloved son of their own Jarl and the lovely daughter of another Jarl from their neighboring village Jokulsa. The two places would forge a strong alliance, whereas the bride would ensure that her future husband and his territory would have enough men, ships and supplies to raid England - just like so many other Norse folks had been doing. Going out to plunder, although the idea of settling down on better land had been sounding very appealing as well to less ambitious men.
The marriage was only going to be around midnight, per tradition of the bride's family. They thought it gave good fortune if the bound between two people was strengthened during the darkest hour, when the Gods could pay their full attention to what was happening down on earth, right there in the large town of Yogsta. No matter the case, the festivities had already begun long before the sun started going down. And before long, the sun had been replaced by the moon. People were drunk, enjoying good company. Beer and mead were getting passed around all over the place, large tables of food were stood out on the main marketplace in the middle of the city right by the longhouse. There wasn't a worry on anyone's mind, yet a group of drunk Norsemen - men loyal to the Jarl of the new allied village Jokulsa - had found their way over to the stables.
They hadn't been shy about expressing their opinion about the village of Yogsta, humble men like themselves never had the honor of visiting this wonderful place. They were energetic. Happy, and ready to rumble in every way possible. Their axes had been making marks in nearby trees growing alongside the roads of dirt, only made into paths due to the hooves of horses going over it over and over again..
"Look at my beautiful mare! It'll be a pity I won't be able to take her to England!" One of the men grinned as he pointed out at a dark brown horse, clearly beaming of pride. Full of excitement for the battles to come, the adventures of traveling over the ocean like the one and only Ragnar Lothbrok had done a couple of years before, for the very first time.
"Her beauty, and your ugliness. That would put shivers through those weak Saxons!" Another one called out, taking another sip of his mead as the group started roaring with laughter.
However drunk they might be, the sound of approaching hooves still managed to grasp their attention. They turned to see another horse coming to a halt, a mysterious figure sitting on top. He was dressed in a beige cloak, an old axe hanging on his belt. He didn't look like a warrior at all - the weapon had clearly seen more trees to cut down than enemies to slay, and his clothes were a simple layer of fabric, barely enough to protect against the cold. It was a strange sight, especially since he had missed the festivities of the marriage so far already. It was almost disrespectful, if one of them hadn't recognized the young man sliding off the horse and tying it up in the stables..
"Isn't that.." He hiccuped. "Isn't that the son of Eldgrim, that old farmer?"
The young Norseman could hear the group of vikings mentioning his father's name, who was indeed an old farmer loyal to Jokulsa. He wasn't ashamed of his heritage, yet he was definitely annoyed when they started cackling once again - just like they had been doing before, but for some reason they thought it was really funny that a farmer's son had shown up to the marriage which would ensure the most important alliance of his home in a very long time. Deciding to ignore the lot, they were just some drunk fools looking for some sort of enjoyment. Some way to calm their own nerves before the surely grand battles in England. Looking to test him, and he wasn't entirely in the mood - their opinion couldn't make a difference to him anyhow, so it wouldn't be worth trying to prove his worth to them anyhow.. He started walking past them but suddenly, his arm was grabbed by a large hand.
The biggest of the vikings had reached out in a wave of drunken pride, turning his attention completely to the newcomer. "What are you doing here, boy? You're no drengr."
Before he knew what was happening, the giant viking was worked up against one of the wooden poles of the stable. He could feel the sharp side of a blade pressing against his throat as he looked down into the eyes of the farmer's son, who showed strength and courage without hesitation.
"I have sworn an oath to Erling Trygg Jarl and his daughter. Whether that means fighting or farming for them will be up to them and the Gods, but I'm here to defend my own honor and earn my place in Valhalla." His voice was low but firm, applying a little more pressure to the blade against the other man's throat. If any of these men wanted to get into a pointless Holmgang, then so be it.
The giant seemed to stay quiet for a second, before he burst out into laughter. "Easy, you bacraut!" Knowing the young man didn't intend on actually killing him, he pushed the blade away gently. "Guess there's more courage in you than we thought. Now go off, before those drunkards have drunk all the mead."
And just with that, the whole situation cooled down.
As the four others went off to do whatever they planned on doing nearby the stables anyhow, the farmer's boy took a deep breath and turned towards the village. The way was quite clearly pointed out for him - all he had to do was follow the torches and head into the direction of the sounds of the feast, up the path. He could hear one of the drunk Vikings calling out that he might want to search for another axe, which was probably one of the only sensible things he'd say this night. This part of Yogsta was laid upon a hill, it seemed. He passed a few other Vikings on the way - some slightly familiar faces since his own hometown wasn't a very big place yet, most completely unrecognizable due to the darkness, their own drunk beings or simply because he had never seen them before.
Almost immediately a horn of beer was pushed into his hands as he took a look around. This feast was bigger than any he had ever attended, but he wasn't just there to drink. He had come to find a purpose, to make an impression on anyone he had to climb away from the rank of being a karl - a farmer, a peasant.
There was one single person that would be recognized everywhere, in every situation. The beautiful Natasja Tryggdottir, sitting on a large chair right in front of the longhouse as it seemed like she was overlooking the festivities. She was sitting besides her father Erling Trygg and another older man - very likely the Jarl of Yogsta. The two of them were talking and drinking together, celebrating the marriage of their children and the new alliance that would be forged between their territories. They had gotten the blessing of their King already, it helped that both of them had sworn loyalty to the same man. Yet, there had been plenty of conflicts between Jarls no matter that fact, and they were pleased to get over their own problems through the bounding of a marriage.
This was supposed to be the happiest day of Natasja's life, and it was. Despite the doubts, she was thrilled that she would be able to call herself the wife of Bjor Tofisson. He was a young man, yet he had been making a name for himself already. He was a good man as well, she could tell out of the few conversations they had - the two of them had met for the very first time when both of them were just kids. There had been a truce between all of the Jarls, their King had brought everyone together to discuss a common threat. They had played in the snow together, even managed to hunt down a rabbit and help their mothers turn it into a delicious soup. Years later, the two of them were reunited as teens - promised by their fathers to each other. It was Natasja's duty to go along with it, but it helped that she wasn't gifted away to a total stranger. It didn't change that much for her, anyhow. She was her own woman; not a warrior, not simply the wife-to-be of a strong drengr. She had proven to be smart, a worthy heir of her father even if she had already decided that she would be leaving him to head to England with her soon-to-be husband and her father-in law.
No matter how intelligent she was however, it was still outshone by her beauty. Long curly blonde hair fell down past her shoulders as deep blue eyes glanced past the two older men, managing to find Bjor's. A gorgeous smile appeared onto her face as she looked over at the man that she would be marrying in just a couple of hours, after the festivities and before the offer that would make sure the Gods would guard over this new couple. The bright white fabric of her wear was standing out against the darker wolf furs, standing out among the dark place and usually brown-ish clothes of everyone else. A simple dress that fell down past her knees, showing off a hint of cleavage as it was an old dress of her mother, who had passed away three winters before this day. Natasja's bust happened to be quite larger, standing out more to the attention in this dress but she had insisted on wearing it anyhow. Not that anyone was bothered - her father, father-in-law and husband were more than happy to let everyone know how much of a living Goddess their new warrior Princess would be...
(Thank you so much for reading through this, I hope you enjoyed! Ever since I got further into the story of the TV-show 'Vikings', and especially since I started playing the newest Assassin's Creed, I've been wanting to try out something based around the Viking Age, the era of the Norsemen. A mixture of action and adventure with plenty of openminded smut sounds really interesting in a historically fluid history. By no means am I an expert in any of this and I suggest we'd leave some room to let our imagination go crazy!) |
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