One stolen plate is all it takes to turn dinner into a battlefield. CW: SFW, Thorkell the Tall x F!Reader, fluff, play-fighting, physical tussling, messy food-sharing, background banter. Word Count: 1,504
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction. It does not reflect the official story, character relationships, or views of the creators of Vinland Saga.
Your plate had barely hit the table when it vanished.
One second it steamed before you, the first proper meal you’d had all day. The next, a great hand swooped in, brazen and unhurried, plucking it away as if it had been meant for him all along.
“Oi!” you snapped, fork stabbing at wood.
Across the bench, Thorkell leaned back, your plate balanced carelessly in one paw, grinning like a thief caught red-handed. His side of the table looked like the aftermath of a feast—bones, greasy platters, mugs scattered like rubble. He’d eaten half the kitchen and somehow decided your meal was fair game too.
“Thork—”
“Mm-mm-mm!” He hummed as though to test the flavor, already tearing into the meat with his teeth. A low groan of satisfaction rattled out of him. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?!” You lunged across the table, seizing the edge of the plate with both hands.
The big man chuckled, lips shiny with grease, holding it just out of reach. “Easy there.”
“Give it back!”
He stretched his arm higher, barely moving, and suddenly you were a child jumping for sweets. He shoved another piece in his mouth and smirked, cheeks puffed as he tried to chew.
You jabbed your fork at his wrist. “Drop it!”
Thorkell leaned away, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, eyes glittering. “Tch, tch. Not very lady-like.”
“Oh, shut up!” You braced your heels and yanked with your whole weight. For a breath you thought you had him, his wrist bent, the plate tilted—then he gave the smallest twist of his arm.
The plate popped free. You stumbled back with nothing in your hands.
Thorkell popped another bite in his mouth, laughing through his nose, muffled around the food.
A couple men down the bench had started watching, ale halfway to their mouths. One nudged the other with his elbow.
“She’s gonna kill ’im,” he muttered, grinning.
-
You stared him down, jaw tight, then let out a long, defeated sigh. The fork clattered from your fingers to the table.
“Fine,” you muttered, brushing your hands on your tunic as though you were done with the whole business. “Enjoy it.”
Thorkell blinked at you, chewing, a little thrown by your sudden calm.
“…Eh?”
You turned and started walking away.
For a moment, he almost felt bad. Almost. Then he shrugged and scooped up another fistful, humming to himself as he shoved it into his mouth.
But the rhythm of your boots on the floor shifted. He frowned.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Heavy, deliberate.
He had just enough time to glance over his shoulder, cheeks still full, when your battle-cry split the hall.
“RAAAAH!”
You charged. The warriors burst into laughter, shoving back from the benches to give you room.
“Gods save him!” one barked.
You vaulted onto the bench, then onto his shoulders, legs locking around his neck. The whole chair buckled under his size as you drove him back, and the two of you went crashing to the floor in a storm of splintered wood.
“BAHAHAHA!” Thorkell’s laugh exploded, muffled around the food still in his mouth. He rolled half onto his side, trying to swallow, shoulders shaking so hard it rattled the floorboards.
“Spit it out!” you barked, hair falling wild across your face as you clawed at his jaw.
He slapped one massive palm over his mouth, the other bracing against your forehead to keep you back. His eyes were crinkled shut, laughter spilling through his nose.
“Mmmffhh—hrrhhfhh!”
“Don’t you dare swallow it!” You pinched his nose with one hand, prying at his lips with the other.
The men were howling now, some pounding the tables with their mugs, others bent double with laughter.
“Get it, lass! Take his tongue too!”
“By Odin, look at her go!”
Thorkell tried to say something, but it was just garbled noise through a mouth full of food and your fingers forcing their way in. You managed to wedge your hand past his lips, digging like a madwoman.
“Ghrrhhk—BAHahaha—st—stop, you’ll—hrhhkk—!” He gagged, tears streaking his face from laughing too hard.
But you didn’t stop. You wiggled your fingers deeper, nails scraping his teeth, until you hooked something soggy.
With a triumphant yell, you yanked it free — a dripping, half-chewed mess.
The hall erupted in a thunderous roar.
“By the gods, she’s got it!”
You stuffed it into your mouth before he could react, chewing furiously like it was the spoils of war.
Thorkell was still flat on his back, chest heaving, choking on laughter. He tried to push himself up on one elbow, still holding you draped across him like a cloak. “Y-you—hah—little fiend—”
“You started it!” you snapped around a mouthful, cheeks puffed like a squirrel’s.
The men’s jeering hit a fever pitch.
“She ate it! She bloody ate it!”
“That’s fouler than Fenrir’s arse!”
“I’ll never kiss a woman again after seein’ that!”
Thorkell finally gulped down the last of what he’d been hiding, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. His face was red from laughing, beard wet with grease and spit, but he was still grinning wide as ever.
With an arm hooked around your waist he sat up, hauling you up with him like you weighed nothing. His voice boomed over the din,
“Ha! Did you see her? Fought me like a wolf for a scrap o’ meat! Fiercer than any of you soft-bellied bastards!”
The hall roared back, some raising their mugs in salute, others whistling.
You were still chewing stubbornly, glaring at him like you hadn’t just made half the longhouse piss themselves laughing.
-
The waitress— A lean English woman, had set a fresh plate down for one of Thorkell’s men, he leaned forward to hand it to you with a crooked grin. “Here, lass. Guard it with your life.”
You snatched it immediately, elbows tucked tight, pressing it to your chest like a shield. Your legs kicked lightly, instinctively curling against Thorkell’s sides— still hoisting you effortlessly in his massive arms. His grin stretched wide, low humming vibrating through his chest. “Eh… think that’ll stop me, little firebrand?”
“Hands off!” you barked, shoving a chunk of meat into your mouth before he could snag the piece. Grease glistened on your fingers, dripping slightly onto your chin. Thorkell’s gaze flicked from your lips to the food, eyes gleaming with mischief. He leaned closer, just enough that his chest pressed against yours, and nuzzled your temple with the tip of his nose. “Full of fire… and a bloody appetite,” he murmured, teeth flashing in a grin. One enormous hand hovered near the plate, twitching like he was deciding which morsel to snatch first.
You squealed around a mouthful, twisting your body just enough to shove him gently with your elbow. “I am eating this! All of it!”
He laughed, deep and rumbling, as he tipped the plate slightly with a playful nudge, trying to snag a bite.
You squirmed, twisting against him, knees braced against his sides, shoving the plate between you to keep him at bay.
Finally, with a groan of amusement, he eased you down to the bench. You pressed your back against the table, straddling his lap, knees planted against his chest for leverage. The plate was angled protectively between your knees and chin, as you began shoveling food into your mouth like a woman on a mission.
He leaned closer again, chin pressing into the top of your head, sniffing your hair, and tried to brush his fingers across the edge of the plate to snatch a roll. You hissed, shoving him away with your thighs trying to keep him from stealing another bite, He chuckled, warm and teasing, continuing to lean closer so your forehead brushed his chest. “Careful, lass… you’re making it hard to keep my hands to myself,” he murmured, nibbling gently at your fingers when they strayed too close to his jaw—quick, teasing, affectionate — and you swatted at him with a laugh, twisting away, trying to keep each bite.
-
Soon your fingers were scraped clean of crumbs, the plate empty but for smeared grease. You leaned back, triumphant, cheeks full and flushed, as his hands settled lightly on your waist to keep you snug.
You swallowed the last bite, with a victorious smirk. “You’re insufferable,” you said, half teasing, half breathless.
“Aye… but you love it.” He hummed, pressing you closer, and wiped the grease from your chin with a gentle thumb, eyes lingering on you just a fraction longer than necessary, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Mad, stubborn woman… I like you best this way,” he murmured, leaning down so his forehead brushed yours. arms snaked snugly around your waist.
The hall faded around you, the men quietly shaking their heads, mugs tipped, bemused at the tiny, feral woman straddling the tallest man alive. You were victorious, plate empty, pressed against him — the only person alive who could say they’d wrestled a meal from Thorkell the Tall, and won.
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