“I have seen that look in your eyes before Floki, you may be a man of great mystery, some would say a vessel of the gods themselves but I know you are about to do something, something bad, and something I can not help but think that you will regret.” The smoothed handle of Floki’s axe jammed into your abdomen as he tried to barge past you with great intent, fortunately you were able to hold him back just long enough for him to talk.
“No.” He snickered. “Nothing bad, nothing wrong at all. Now if you don’t mind me, I’m just going to…” You pushed him back from the entrance to Athelstan. “Would you mind?”
“Athelstan is a good man Floki, whether he believes in his god or our gods. Do not forget that he has fought by our side, fought by your side. We would never have made it this far without him and yet you wish to kill him? Simply for such a small difference?”
“A small difference?” He scoffed, embedding his axe firmly into the damp ground. “Every second that Christian walks among us, defiling the sacred ground that he walks on the gods anger and they anger and anger and ANGER! I do not know about you, y/n, but I would rather not be the reason the wrath of the gods spills upon us so called Northmen.” Again he used all of his might to try and ram past but you stood true and proud, ready to accept whatever punishment that would bring from Floki.
“Do you think Ragnar would condone your actions?” With hatred in his eyes Floki spat harshly into the dirt.
“Ragnar does not have to know. I am doing what is best for him and for us.” He jammed the handle of his axe into your stomach but still you did not move. “And if you do not move, my axe will be spilling the blood of two godless fools tonight.”
“I can not let you past Floki. You will regret your decisions, Ragnar will exile you… you will be banished far from Kattegat, far from anywhere you could call home and that is if you are lucky. Think of Helga, think of your child Floki. There is more to life than this, please. Put down the axe and go and get yourself a drink.”
“You just do not understand y/n. I do the gods will and that is final.”
This is the fourth entry for @vikingsevents Valentine's Week. The prompts were Misunderstanding and Best Friend. I'm a little bit late for it, but better late than never, right? xD Nothing worth of a warning in the fic, everything is just mentioned and not acted upon. Ragnar and his anger issues are its own warning lol. This really is just sort of a modern take of canon events with added spice. (1,4k fic under the cut)
"Jesus!" Ragnar exclaimed after entering the kitchen. He had a feeling that something wasn't right once he made it through the front door, but had been too tipsy to care. He swayed in place and then leaned against the wall near the door. When those taxing eyes took in his miserable state, Ragnar hid his face by rubbing it with both hands. Desperately willing the drunkenness away.
"Not quite," Floki responded belatedly and Ragnar could hear the slow smile forming on his friends lips. "Where have you been?" He asked and from the sounds of it, kicked the chair out from the kitchen table to invite Ragnar to sit. "I had to wait for hours."
Ragnar sucked on his teeth noisily and pushed himself off the wall, finally looking at his old friend properly. He was dressed in the same suit he wore when he got arrested. "No one asked you to," he told him and sat down opposite of him. "Why are you here?" Ragnar squinted his eyes in suspicion. He hadn't seen Floki since the trial and hadn't planned on changing that. Especially not on this particular day, but here Floki was sitting at his table, with his crossed arms leaning on the surface.
"You are my friend, Ragnar," Floki replied sincerely, his hands now folded in front of his face, hiding the lower part efficiently. "I worried." He added sincerely, causing Ragnar to slap his hand onto the table with force.
"Do not lie to me," he pointed at Floki, his voice raised. The alcohol always made it easier to tap into his anger. It was one of the reasons Aslaug had left him. The thought of her only worsened his rage. She'd gone and took the boys with her. It hadn't been her intention to prevent Ragnar from seeing them, but when a judge had to decide how to split the time, Ragnar had been drunk out of his mind. That day, Aslaug got full custody without another chance for him to explain.
Floki's high pitched giggle sounded haughty and his friend looked away from him. "Everything I did was for you," he told Ragnar. "Everything."
It had his blood boil further and without a second thought Ragnar threw the little decorative plastic flowers Ecbert had gotten off the table with an enraged shout, the ceramic pot breaking into a thousand pieces as he stood. "You came into my house, you threatened my family!" Ragnar yelled, his breathing heavy. "You did it for yourself."
"Athelstan was not your family," Floki replied, his brows furrowed in similar anger. He wasn't quite on Ragnar's level, but he would get there easy enough. "He was a whore at best, playing footsie with you at the dinner table you shared with your wife."
Ragnar scoffed in disagreement. "Since when do you care about Aslaug?" He asked. "You knew she was fine with it, you-" he broke off and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Why was Floki here on the anniversary of Athelstan's death? It didn't make sense to Ragnar. The Floki he knew had never trampled over his feelings like this. "Why are you here?" He asked again, this time Ragnar forced his voice to remain calm.
Slowly, his friend reached into the pocket of his jacket and then threw a silvery object onto the table. "It belongs to you." Floki told him and leaned back in the chair. So relaxed like he didn't kill the man Ragnar loved ten years ago. On further inspection he noticed that Floki had brought him the bracelet he'd given to Athelstan. He'd had a goldsmith make it shorter to stop it from falling off the other man's wrist. Ragnar would never be able to wear it again. Not that he wanted to.
With a slow nod Ragnar pushed the chair he'd sat on under the table. He needed to distance himself from Floki, or he would hurt him. "Thanks," he found himself saying. "Now fuck off," Ragnar added for good measure. "I don't want you here today."
Floki made no indication to move. He seemed to be oddly offended at Ragnar's dismissal. "Ten years is enough to grieve for a boy toy," he said and Ragnar knew he was deliberately cruel. His friend had been with him when he stumbled over Athelstan in their club. An anorexic little thing with daddy issues and a history of drug addiction. Ragnar later told Floki that Athelstan had been in a catholic school with many priests who had wandering hands. But he'd always lacked empathy where Athelstan was concerned and Ragnar knew that. Floki leaned forward to catch Ragnar's eyes. "I went to jail for you."
The sheer fury gleaming in Ragnar's eyes was too short a warning before he basically threw his hands onto the tabletop and towered over Floki. His breath was coming in short puffs. "I did not ask you to! You were supposed to tell the truth." Ragnar said the last bit through his teeth.
"Thirty years for you, or ten for me," Floki replied, "Easy choice." He said and Ragnar knew he was right. He'd already been on parole and if the cops had found his many, many firearms and not so small amounts of drugs at his house, he'd be locked away for most of his remaining life. So Floki admitted it was him who evaded the taxes of the club they owned and they found nothing at Floki's place– he was smart enough to stash it somewhere else entirely. Floki had gone to jail for fraud alone. His friend's eyes turned soft as he looked up at Ragnar, "I would do anything for you."
He was close to tears when he moved away from the table, only to round it and stand right in front of Floki. Ragnar hesitantly reached for his friend's face to hold it in both hands, gently stroking over his cheeks, "Then tell me why you killed Athelstan, hm?" He leaned down to press his forehead against Floki's temple and whispered, "Why?" Over and over before his hand moved up and got hold of Floki's almost hairless scalp, pulling it harshly back to force him to make eye contact. "Why?" Ragnar hollered at his friend who remained mute through it all.
"He was a junkie and overdosed," Floki told him calmly. Something that he had already heard from the police. "You knew it, I knew it– everyone! Not a single soul was shocked by it." He said, but his extensive blinking spoke against the truthfulness of his statement. Ragnar was aware of Athelstan's past, he'd even fucked with him on multiple occasions why they'd both been high.
Once more he invaded Floki's personal space, coming cheek to cheek with him. "I knew every part of his body, seen it all and I knew his mind," Ragnar said quietly, a strange threat lurking underneath. "He'd sworn off H months before his death… for me." Floki's eyes widened momentarily in realization. "He never would've overdosed."
It momentarily looked like his friend wanted to come clean, mumbling incomprehensibly until Ragnar moved away. "A misunderstanding, we fought," Floki said, the deranged giggle he let out sounded like he'd suppressed it for hours. "I hit him and he wanted to tell you."
"I don't believe you," Ragnar replied, once again urging Floki to tell the truth. "You lured him out of my house," and into a rundown place full of addicts. "I ask you one last time, why you did it." Ragnar tried again, but Floki shook his head, refusing to budge. "Was it jealousy?" He bluntly asked, causing Floki to become stock-still.
His friend exhaled a long breath before desperately inhaling. "You chose him," Floki said quietly, almost like he didn't want him to hear. "Over me," he added and met Ragnar's gaze steadily. "How could you?"
Something like sympathy creeped up inside Ragnar and he inclined his head a couple times in a slow and jerky movement. "You've been my best friend for all my life, Floki," he told him, the side of his face sticking to Floki's to speak directly into his ear. "You've known me longer than anyone else." He wished his friend had told him what he was going through, and maybe Athelstan would still be alive.
When he pressed a kiss to Floki's temple, his friend's hands pulled at the front of Ragnar's shirt and into an awkward hug. They lost ten years of their friendship, time they would never get back, but now he understood why Floki had lied for him, why he had hated Athelstan so much.
“I have heard that if I want a vessel built to take me across the seas, you are the man I am to speak to… Floki?” You spoke out into the empty forest, your words echoing around the tall trees and ricocheting off their thick bark. “I was told to meet him here, yet, the forest is fruitful of all but people…” Your eyes darted around the forest, hoping to find some kind of encampment, a hut, or at least remnants that somebody had been here, a fire or footsteps. You turned to leave, to return to the village to find the old drunkard that had told you about this legendary boat-maker but as you turned you felt a tap on your shoulder.
You spun around to answer the call but all that you found was the swirling of the leaves in the midsummer breeze and all you heard was the swirling of the alpine winds, yet, once again a tap on your shoulder, this time much harder, almost a grab that held onto you.
“I think I may have heard somebody asking for Floki?” A voice behind you called out, an impish inflection rolled out with each sentence that fell out of his naughty grin.
“Yes… that would be you I presume.” He nodded and bowed deeply. The man bore blackened eyes and muted, short hair that stuck out in all directions, he held his fingertips touched together and jerkily moved around. “And do you build boats?” He laughed, almost maniacally. He did not look like much of a Viking, a rather… toned-down build and spindly appendages.
“Na, I do not build boats, I build vessels. Vessels that can carry a crew far beyond the horizon and a vessel that can withstand the barrages of the greatest army, no, a vessel that can hold up against Jörmungandr itself with it’s crew still living to tell the tale.” As the spilled from his mouth as if he invoked the very spirit of Bragi his eyes sparked with excitement, with a hint of mischief. “So, tell me, what kind of boat do you need?”
“A cheap one…” Floki’s head shook from side to side.
“No, no you see, I do not make ‘cheap’ boats. The trees speak to me, telling me where the find the finest planks, the iron shivers and twinges, asking me to have them turned into nails and embedded into the wood. Cheap boats are not something I do… Come back when you have something more respectable to say.”
Happy birthday my love!!🎉🎊🍾🎂 I hope you have an amazing day with your loved ones, that you eat your favourite cake and that maybe this moodboard makes you smile a little!!! Here's to an wonderful year to you!!🧡 Skøl!!🍻
