✒️I'm Elliot, you can also call me Eli, I use he/they pronouns. I'm also trans masc nonbinary
✒️Ageless blogs will be blocked. Read on your own risk, I'm not responsible for what you consume on the internet. fem aligned blogs or fem readers do not interact with my blog or my fics.
✒️xenophobia, transphobia, racism, antisemite and any other kind of hateful speech will not be tolerated and will be blocked and reported. Also pedophilia, or fetishizing are not welcomed.
✒️I do not give permission to any of my work being copied, translated or reposted anywhere else with or without credit.
✒️I don't write on here that much (or at all) anymore, but I do write on my f1 blog @elihashadenough if anyone is interested in that :)
>Things i write about:
✒️I will be doing different fics/Aus, which will consist of drabbles and blurbs and also long one-shots.
✒️I will be mostly writing about afab/ftm reader as I relate to it more and am a little better at writing that but will also try to get into writing for gender-nutural and male reader.
✒️I don't have a specific schedule on when I'll be uploading anything, I have college and work and other responsibilities, which will be a bit difficult for me to handle (I'm not good at planning things), so please be patient with me.
(I also write in my free time which as of right now I don't have much off)
>Things I will be posting/writing about:
✒️mostly criminal minds stuff and/or harry potter related stuff :)
Not trying to dismiss americans fears over the Iran/USA situation I get it. But once the panic settles, I hope folks realize this likely won’t hurt you directly. It’s Iranian kids, women, men, and neighboring countries who would face the bombs and invasions. That’s what the U.S. empire has done for 50+ years: fake wars, fake threats and destruction to further their imperialist agenda
white people: you are not going to be attacked. your little white suburb in America/UK is going to be just fine and you really need to shut the fuck up. the destiel meme isn't appropriate. the memes and the "WRITE TO YOUR MP/CONGRESSMAN!" aren't appropriate.
you need to shut the fuck up, get out and protest properly (no fucking joke signs, no change.org, ACTUAL fucking protest), and you need to stop fucking commenting on shit like"I'm so scared!!! 🥺 what if those meanie Iranians decide to bomb us 🥺".
you need to stop fucking butchering the pronunciation of Iranian, and Iran, bc you being fucking racist is embarrassing, it lacks decorum, and it lacks the actual fucking care that the people who are going to be slaughtered (ie: those in Iran) by white supremacy deserve inherently.
realise that voting won't fucking change things on an institutional level, and THIS ISN'T GOING TO CHANGE ANYTHING FOR YOU. people are going to fucking die, people in Iran are going to fucking die, and you need to focus on THEM without demonising them (so no commenting shit like "innocent people" - NOBODY should die).
you need to stop pulling this fucking bullshit every time that YOUR COUNTRIES, your countries that are built upon white supremacy, commits an act of terrorism. it's racist, it's idiotic, and you are acting like fucking pigs.
so embarrassing when i forget im checking someone's blog and i start scrolling through and liking and reblogging shit as if it's just my dash. it feels like wandering into someone else's apartment and not noticing and making myself lunch
Summary: Reunited with family members, (Y/N) makes a choice in regards to his future and happiness.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
CW/TW: Typical Valhalla warnings, homophobia, no hate quite like christian love, harald being harald at this point bro
~~~
Novgorod remained unchanged, for the most part. The towering gray walls still encircled the glorious, rich city, but without winter, the chill wasn't as notable as the last time they'd been there. Light snow blanketed the ground, mushy and soft but not as thick. Merchants and sellers still shouted their services and prices into the windy air, and the building where opium could be taken remained, with buyers stumbling in and out. There were no ships on sleds tied to horses; there was no need for them with the river melted and flowing through the forest.
(Y/N) felt more at peace than he had in Constaniople. He was around his people, around Vikings who shared his culture and traditions. He'd nearly forgotten what it was like to wear heavy furcoats or braid parts of his hair or proudly wear his necklace without receiving wide-eyed stares from people so heavily sheltered from violence. He could communicate in an unspoken language and be completely understood by the vendors or others passing by. It made the longing for home even greater.
Slipping the coat from his shoulders and setting it aside, he walked toward the window and peered into the city. The tent for fighting and bets was still up and operating, and his heart involuntarily clenched at the thought of Batu and Kaysan. They'd been two young men searching for a way to make a living, sticking together to survive without anyone else to rely on but each other. He couldn't help but wonder if they would've perhaps been happier had they been left alone... if they would've been alive and breathing.
When he closed his eyes, he could still hear Kaysan's rumbling laugh, the sort of laugh that could make anyone smile along until their cheeks hurt. He could still see Batu and peer into his dark eyes full of kindness, still see his beaming smile and the affection that melted into it whenever he was around friends. He could still feel Dorn's gentle touch, the weight of her hand on his shoulder, or the playful way she'd bump her shoulder into his.
"Greenlander," A cheery voice greeted him from behind, and he turned to face them. Yaroslav smiled welcomingly at him. "Ah, it is good seeing you again, Greenlander! I hear your brother left to journey on his own. It is a shame I could not say goodbye to him."
Yaroslav, unsurprisingly, looked the same, if not with a pudiger belly full of wine and ale. He approached him, his hands raising to slap affectionately over (Y/N)'s shoulders. "Harald is gathering an army as we speak. I recall he told me, many years ago, that you did not wish to... join him when he became King of Norway."
(Y/N) bit his tongue. "Mm, it.. it is his destiny. He believes it to be, at least."
"Mhm," Yaroslav slowly nodded, his green eyes squinting slightly at him. "I am no fool, (Y/N). I am aware there are.. things going on between you and my nephew. It is none of my business what either of you choose to indulge in, but I would be lying if I said I have not grown fond of you and your brother over the years."
"We've always been grateful for it."
"Yes, though, I cannot help but wonder... what it is that you want?" Yaroslav's hands dropped, his feet guiding him toward one of the tables with a pitcher of wine and a goblet waiting to be filled. He wrapped a ringed hand around the goblet and poured the dark wine into it before raising it to take a drink. "You must desire something. Men, women, gold, lands, power, marriage, children."
He thought of Greenland immediately. He thought of the long expanse of treeless fields that reached out in every direction. He thought of the small harbor his father ruled over and the cliffs that resided on either side. He thought of the rocky beach he'd sit at as a boy and watch the horizon for signs of the fishing boats. He'd desired a chance to return home since the moment he set foot on Kattegat all those years ago, a chance to see his mother again, to see how the families of his fallen friends were doing.
"Harald may not realize it yet, but he and I desire the same thing."
Yaroslav's bushy brows rose in surprise and curiosity. "Oh?"
"He wishes to return home, as do I. He simply longs for a chance to rule over his home, whereas I am content simply being home. It is a pity, I suppose, that we are not from the same places. I belong in Greenland with my family. He belongs in Norway." (Y/N) approached the table, his head tilting toward the crackling fireplace nearby. He watched the flames lick up the stone walls circling it, keeping it from spreading to the rest of the room.
"Do you believe in destiny, Greenlander?"
"Yes.. and I believe Harald and I were destined to meet, to cross paths and then diverge. I think he has.. finally come to accept this. I hope he has, at least." (Y/N) took the second goblet in his hand and tilted it toward Yaroslav so he'd pour wine into it. He brought the goblet to his lips and sipped on the sweet wine, an easily addictive thing. "Harald will make for a... fair king."
"But not a good one?"
(Y/N) let out a soft huff of amusement. "Kings are never good, Yaroslav. They can only be fair."
Yaroslav hummed quietly but made no move to protest or deny his words. Instead, he drank from his goblet until it was empty and set his cup down to be fetched later by a servant. He licked his lips and placed his hand over (Y/N)'s shoulder again, his fingers lightly squeezing it before he turned and began making his way toward the door. (Y/N) turned away from the fire.
"Yaroslav," He called out to him, waiting for him to crane his head over his shoulder. "Would it be too much to ask for Harald to sleep in a separate room?"
A sympathetic smile passed over his lips. "That can be arranged. Good luck on your travels."
➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸
With the riches Harald obtained through his seven years of serving in Constantinople, he managed to gather an army of Vikings that would have put Jarl Kåre and Jarl Olaf's combined armies to shame. There were warriors from all around, some who knew of Harald and others who simply cared for the gold and food he provided them with. Many were Christian, like him, followers of the new faith who prayed before they ate and wore crosses around their necks. (Y/N) preferred the few who followed the old gods. Their stares weren't as heavy.
They travelled from Novgorod to Norway for many days, occasionally enticing more men and women to join them in the opportunity of following a future king. (Y/N) felt relief when they began camping and sleeping in nature more frequently. He'd always preferred towering trees over the stone walls of Constantinople, the sounds of birds and bugs over loud, busy chatter.
He'd never been meant for Constaniople, it would have driven him insane eventually. He was meant for hunting with bows and spears, for tracking prints in the dirt or snow, for carving his own meat and watching it cook over a fire.
Life at court, too, would drive him insane.
That sentiment became clearer the deeper into Norway they went. He knew it weighed heavily on Harald's shoulders, but he'd changed since the fight with Maniakes. He'd become... colder, more withdrawn, less of the man he fell for during the war and more of a stranger. Despite that, he could feel the familiar stare burn into his temple as he carefully sharpened his dagger. He contemplated stepping outside, but before he could decide, there was a familiar voice shouting and a loud commotion.
(Y/N) whipped his head around in time to catch Harald throwing Leif over his shoulder to dodge an attack. He hurried onto his feet, tucking his dagger away and swiftly crossing the distance to grab a handful of Leif's cloak. "What are you doing, Leif?!"
"(Y/N)?" Leif exhaled, blinking wildly at his younger brother. He raised a cautious hand to (Y/N)'s face, his fingertips brushing over his cheek as if to check if he were really real before he wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. (Y/N) chuckled breathily, a warm relief spreading through his body as he tucked his face in his brother's neck. "Harald..." Leif sighed when he pulled away, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "I mistook you for another. My apologies."
"I'm glad to see you are still the same," Harald responded, a faint attempt at humor, but his tone remained heavy and stoic. "Come, have a seat. We must catch up."
Albeit reluctantly, (Y/N) took a seat across from Harald and settled down beside his brother, unable to tear his eyes away from Leif for long in fear it was all an illusion. His heartstrings tugged with homesickness, but he felt lighter than he had in days. He could breathe easier with Leif at his side, alive and well. Leif set his axes aside, his hands lingering over them.
"(Y/N)..." He began softly, his voice barely audible over the chatter. Leif raised his head to look at him, his collasoused hand resting on the side of (Y/N)'s neck and gently massaging the muscle there. "I... Freydis is... Freydis was murdered in Jomsburg by Magnus Olafsson. It was revenge for killing Jarl Olaf. She-" Leif's voice trembled slightly, his grip tightening as he tried collecting himself long enough to get more words out.
(Y/N) stared at him blankly, the words ringing in his ears. "What? No, no, that- that- Leif, she-" He swallowed harshly and shook his head, his heartbeat quickening until it was beating in his ears. "Freydis, she- how could-"
"I promise-" Leif grabbed him by his shoulders, his brows lifting. "-I will kill him for what he has done."
(Y/N) could feel tears well in the corners of his eyes, tears he rapidly blinked away. She wouldn't want him weeping over her death, no, she'd want him seeking vengeance for her, her people, and-
"Have you ever been in love, Freydis?" (Y/N) asked, placing his hand over hers and wrapping his fingers around her wrist. Freydis hummed and looked up at the clear sky, taking his words into consideration. She thought about it carefully before pursing her lips.
"There was a man back in Kattegat. His name was Koll Hjortsson. He was a believer in the Old Gods, just like us. I believe I was falling in love with him. He was very kind and intelligent. But he is in Valhalla now. And I may be carrying his child." Her words made (Y/N) freeze, head snapping in her direction and eyes widening. Freydis bit down on her bottom lip, nibbling at the skin and staring at the ground, foot lightly digging into the dirt. He immediately looked her over. Her slim figure hadn't changed, and he couldn't spot anything new about her.
"How do you know?"
"I've been feeling ill lately. At first, I thought it might've been a normal illness. But I remembered what the women say about pregnancy, and it makes sense. I believe the Gods have given us gifts for our bravery and faith. Harald has been getting better, and I have been blessed with a child. Perhaps... we were meant to be here, living in that cabin. When Harald grows healthy again, we can make it a proper home, and in due time, we'll be dealing with a babe." Freydis smiled widely, affectionately rubbing her belly. (Y/N) stared at her as the information settled in. His sister was with child, their brother was missing, Harald was still sick, and the chances of going home grew slimmer with each passing day.
"Gods, Freydis..." (Y/N) breathed and stepped around, arms wrapping around her waist. She laughed softly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her head against his and closing her eyes. (Y/N) squeezed her lightly and leaned back with a smile. "Come on, then. We've got to make sure your child comes strong and healthy."
"What of her child? Our nephew?" (Y/N) asked breathlessly, but Leif's lips only drew into a pained line, and he shook his head slowly. He took in a shaking breath and propped his arm on the table, resting his forehead over his palm. His nephew, a child of only seven... "The Gods wouldn't be so cruel."
"How did you find out?" Harald questioned, his voice softer than before, but his brows remained fixated in a deep furrow. His eyes flickered to (Y/N), lingering on his features as sympathy sparked in his gaze.
"A bishop traveling with Magnus told me that he poisoned Jomsborg. Some of her people escaped, and she was not among them. I found a shrine they built for her. Nothing else."
"It was her destiny to go there," Harald muttered, taking a sip of his ale and swiping his tongue over his lips. "I hope she found what she was searching for."
(Y/N) couldn't help the quiet scoff that left him, but his eyes fluttered shut instead of meeting Harald's pointed stare. There was a call for Harald, a faintly familiar voice, but (Y/N) couldn't put a name to it until Harald stood to greet the Viking. "Jarl Nori!" He shook his arm, their chain link armor clinging together. (Y/N) opened his eyes and glanced up at the man.
Ah, he remembered him now. He looked fairly the same, apart from his beard, which had grown to reach the top of his chest. Jarl Nori had been the Christian who'd refused to fight alongside 'Pagans' and clashed with Jarl Gorm in what would've been a brutal fight had Harald not intervened that night. He hadn't seen much of the man since the day they claimed victory against England and named King Canute as king of both Denmark and England. The man beside him was a stranger by the name of Vestian, young and likely a family member of Jarl Nori.
Jarl Nori greeted them with a small smile, his hands coming to pat them both on the back. "Greenlanders, good to see you again." He nodded to them before sitting down at the table with Vestian and grinning widely at Harald. "I knew you would return."
"I brought forces to back me and riches for my allies." Jarl Nori quirked a brow, nodding for him to continue. Harald leaned forward, his fingers interlacing. "I am ready to be king."
"May not be as simple as you have planned," Vestian revealed grimly, sparing a glance in Jarl Nor's direction. "Magnus has agreements with many of the Jarls to back him on Svein's death."
"He has the power of the Church. The Pope has threatened excommunication for anyone who goes against him." Jarl Nori grimanced, steadily watching Harald, studying his reaction intently. "Including you."
Harald's jaw visibly clenched, his chest rising with a sharp inhale. "And where do you stand?"
"Olaf was like a brother to me. But his son is a Viking in name only." A slow smile spread on Jarl Nori's face. "Our allegiance is with you."
"And where is Magnus?" (Y/N) asked, his finger running along the thread of his necklace. Magnus. A man who seemed to be just like his filth of a father despite his young age. He hoped Freydis had made Olaf's death as long and painful as it had always meant to be.
"He has summoned Jarls to Kattegat."
Harald hummed and raised his cup, that familiar grin spreading across his lips. "Then that is where we're going."
With a destination finally set, the army packed up the camp they'd made and began preparing for the trek to Kattegat. (Y/N) climbed up onto his horse and carefully pressed down on its sides with his legs to get it moving toward the trail. There was an odd emptiness inside his chest as if the news of Freydis's death hadn't fully set in.
It was hard to believe, especially after everything they'd gone through, that poison would be the thing that killed his sister. He expected her to die in battle by the blade or arrow of another warrior, not by poison sent by a coward.
"(Y/N)." Leif trotted up to him on his horse, his frown heavy with grief. "I'm sorry you found out like this... at a time like this, too. I notice you and Harald have not spoken to each other once since I arrived. What has he done this time?"
(Y/N) chuckled humorlessly, his fingers tightening around the reins of his horse. "I made a choice. He is not the man I chose to follow all those years ago, not anymore. Maniakes... broke him. Hardened him. Kaysan, Batu, and Dorn... they were killed for their unwavering loyalty to him. It is why they are not here with us."
Leif's eyes squeezed shut, a shuttering breath leaving him. "I- I see. I'm sorry I was not there."
"I know," (Y/N) murmured. "Which reminds me, you wished to go to Corfu, yet you are here. Why is that?"
"There was a man there, a mapmaker. He created part of the map I found in the Book of the Unknown." Leif trotted closer, his hand releasing the reins to reach over. His fingers squeezed (Y/N)'s shoulder, the grimness in his features dulling when he smiled. He looked... almost excited. "I spoke to him, dined with his family. He has a map containing every land he has heard of from visitors and travelers. We put the last piece on the map, and I saw it, (Y/N)."
(Y/N) thumbed at his reins. "The Golden Land?"
"The Golden Land," Leif confirmed, his voice tittering with emotion. "If we sail from Greenland, just as Father and I had on that fishing trip, we will surely find it. Who knows what we may yet discover there."
"We?" (Y/N) repeated softly, the corners of his mouth rising into a suppressed smile. "We will find it?"
Leif's smile widened, his eyes crinkling with affection. "We will find it. For Freydis, for our people, for those who did not believe in it. We will find it."
➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸
Kattegat felt colder when they arrived, almost duller. Jarl Haakon had run a tight ship during her rule of Kattegat, but the people had seemed happy, then. Safe and free to worship whoever they pleased. Christianity seemed to be the religion now, and even then, the people looked mournful, as if they were grieving. (Y/N) could only assume that meant their would-be rulers, the young Svein and his mother, Queen Ælfgifu, were dead.. more innocents slaughtered by Magnus.
Nobody dared stop them as they climbed off their horses and marched straight for the Great Hall; even the men who glowered and stared harshly remained in their stops at the sight of the army that loyally followed Harald. The Great Hall was full, many Jarls standing toward the front before a man who appeared much younger than them. He hardly looked like Olaf, but (Y/N) knew it was Magnus. They were both men filled with hate, a hate that was easily spotted just by looking at them.
As Jarl Nori claimed, Magnus Olafsson looked less like a Viking and more like the people of Constaniople. He wore the clothes of Vikings, spoke like and to Vikings, but he did not look Viking. His skin was smooth, free from the lines of work and scars of battle. His hair was long and dirty blonde but was not woven back. He carried himself with the air of someone who'd never truly been to battle nor been beaten down before.
"King Svein is dead." He announced to the Jarls, not a lick of grief or sympathy in his voice for the man he spoke of. "King Forkbeard swore an oath that on his death, I would be named King of Norway. And now, all that remains is a vote by you."
Harald strode further into the Great Hall, his lips curling up into a smirk. "An excellent idea, nepehw." His voice naturally carried through the room, confident and even slightly amused. Heads whipped around to look at him, smiles appearing on faces and voices excitedly calling out to him. "But first, I must remind the Jarls of a promise they made long before yours, to crown me as King upon your father's death."
(Y/N) slipped away from the crowd to stand along the wall with his brother, his eyes drifting over the crowd of Jarls. They exchanged glances and low murmurs as they parted to allow Harald to step through and stand before his nephew. Magnus had been a boy, just a child, when there'd been rumors of Forkbeard's rule over Kattegat eight, nearly nine years before they travelled to Novgorod. They were strangers now and no longer simply uncle-nephew.
"We did not know you had returned, Prince Harald." One of the older Jarls spoke.
Harald turned toward him, his face devoid of most emotion and eyes slightly narrowed. "You do now."
"Prince Harald speaks the truth." Jarl Nori piped up. "He is the rightful King of Norway."
Magnus remained silent for a long moment, the hands he had clasped over his stomach clenching around each other until he raised his head. "Unfortunately, the Pope will not accept a king with Pagan sympathies." He stated, eyeing Harald when he sat back on one of the thrones. His lips twitched into a brief smirk before he turned his body and motioned for someone.
(Y/N) couldn't see through the crowd, not at first, but his heart began hammering at the exclamations tossed into the air. There was a mention of a woman, then a cry about a witch, and before he knew it, his sister appeared through the crowd, being led by two men. Freydis was alive. His breath caught in his throat, a strangled noise almost leaving him. She was alive and healthy, not the sight of a woman who'd been close to death. Freydis pressed her feet firmly on the ground, her lips drawn in a line at the sight of Harald, but when she turned to look toward them, she let a smile slip.
"Not only her," Magnus abruptly added, his hand turning and finger extending toward (Y/N). "Him as well."
"(Y/N)-"
One man clapped his hand tightly over Leif's shoulder to keep him in place while another twisted his hand around (Y/N)'s bicep and forced him forward until he stood beside his sister. Freydis's chest quickened its breathing, her eyes widening and snapping back toward Harald. Harald went rigid in the throne, his fingers curling until they were fists, but he steeled himself enough to only appear faintly surprised.
Magnus grinned, his eyes darting between the three with twisted eagerness before they settled on the siblings. "Well, are you a Christian?" He asked, his hand grasping the sword offered to him, the sword Freydis held near and dear to her heart.
"You know the answer to that." Freydis scowled at him.
"I'll take that as a 'no' from both of you." Laughter spread around the Jarls. Magnus ran his finger along the blade. "And, Freydis, are you the one the heathens call the Last Daughter of Uppsala? The Keeper of the Faith, the leader of the Pagans."
Freydis glanced at (Y/N), then at Leif. Her jaw clenched, and her nostrils flared slightly before she squared her shoulders and looked back at Magnus. "I am." She affirmed confidently.
"Hm." Magnus's eyes trailed away from her to settle on (Y/N). "You are the one they call (Y/N), no? The second son of Erik the Red? Are you aware there are.. rumors that the relations between you and Harald go deeper than brotherhood? That you are his secret lover?" (Y/N)'s lips pressed together, his teeth digging into his bottom lip anxiously. Magnus arched a brow. "I am aware that you are a Pagan, but I assume you know that laying with another man is a sin before the eyes of God?"
(Y/N) took a desperate glance in Leif's direction, suddenly feeling like a boy again in need of saving from their father's rage. Leif stared back at him helplessly, his shoulders rising and falling with each quick breath he took. (Y/N) looked toward Harald instead, pleadingly looking into eyes he knew so well. Harald's adam's apple bobbed with a harsh swallow, and he tilted his head up. (Y/N) felt a simmer of relief. Maybe he was still the man (Y/N) believed him to be. Maybe he'd misjudged him too qui-
"Lies," Harald stated clearly, his voice tight. (Y/N) would've staggered if it not had been for the tight hold of the man grasping his arm. "These rumors are false. (Y/N) and I have been to war together, travelled through many lands together, but to claim we are lovers is laughable. We are nothing to each other."
(Y/N) felt Magnus's stare burn into his temple, searching, waiting for him to crack. He dropped his eyes onto the floorboards beneath his feet, trailing the cracks as he took slow breaths to steady himself. His eyes stung, his heart felt as if someone had taken hold of it and squeezed as tightly as possible, and his head was beginning to ache. He was certain he was trembling. He took a deep breath and held it in his lungs.
He was no mere fool. He was (Y/N) Eriksson. He was a devoted follower of the All-Father and All-Mother, who provided him strength in every battle he went into. He'd rather be slain than allow any of them to see him falter.
"I do lay with men." (Y/N) nodded, murmurs immediately spreading through the crowd. He held Harald's eye, taking some pleasure in the way he stiffened. "But I would never lay with a Christian."
Magnus's jaw clenched. He turned toward the Jarls. "Harald is a Pagan sympathizer, nonetheless. If you vote for Harald Sigurdsson, you are inviting the anger of the Holy Father, and he will punish you for this decision."
His words roused the crowd, some calling out for Magnus to be crowned whilst others for Harald. Jarl Nori's voice was clearer amongst the rest, questioning those around them who they were voting for and prodding them for answers when they took too long. All (Y/N) could focus on was Harald. The curious, easy-going young man he'd fallen for over time was gone, buried in Constaniople. The Harald before him was a cold, greedy man who was nothing more than a stranger.
He expected an overwhelming sadness to consume him, but he felt.. numb. Harald stared back at him, his furrowed brow look softening in the slightest. (Y/N) couldn't bring himself to do anything other than blankly stare back at him. Eight, nearly nine years spent on a man who could not even be bothered taking a risk for him. It only infuriated him.
"So," With Jarl Nori's voice, the overlapping voices quieted. "We have reached a decision. It is decided that you, Harald Siggurdsson, are entitled to the Throne of Norway."
"But that you, Magnus Olafsson, also have a claim." Another Jarl, one much older than the rest, added. "It is our decision, therefore, that you will rule together.
His whole life spent pining over the throne, nearly begging for it and tossing everything else aside... only to be forced to share the crown with another. (Y/N) nearly laughed.
"What say you both?" Jarl Nori asked, glancing between them.
"I understand." Harald cleared his throat, despite his knuckles being a pronounced white. "And I accept your decision.
"I, too, accept your decision," Magnus announced, his fingers tapping lightly along the sword. "But on one condition: that tomorrow, when my father's shrine is to be consecrated, Harald promises to all that Norway will never go back to its old ways and agrees to burn the Pagan witch-" He raised the sword, pointing it at Freydis before he pointed it at (Y/N) next. "-and her Pagan brother to prove his loyalties are not with them and their gods."
(Y/N)'s eyes snapped toward Magnus, widening the slightest. The murmuring of the crowd grew distant, muted to his ears, the hairs on his body standing erect with alert and the thrumming of dread. It clawed at his throat, making it hard to breathe.
His hands clenched tightly to ease the trembling that'd begun, blunt fingernails digging into his palms to distract himself from the storm that broke in his chest. He grinded his teeth together and desperately tried suppressing the trembles attempting to traverse through his body.
"Harald Sigurdsson, what say you?"
Harald's fists rubbed into the armrests of the throne as he shifted uncomfortably in the seat, his eyes bouncing around the room, unable to settle on just one person. He turned his head toward Magnus, meeting his cynical expression before turning back to the siblings. "I say..." He began, strained. His lips drew into a line. "Burn them."
"Hey-" Harald's arm shot forward when (Y/N) made a beeline toward the door, catching him by the forearm and tugging him close. His arms firmly slipped around his waist, and his lips formed a small pout. "Where in God's name are you going in such a hurry?"
"I'm going to find my brother, Harald. I need to help him pack and check on Liv." (Y/N) answered, feeling Harald's muscle flex against his clothed body.
"They can wait, (Y/N)," Harald murmured and pressed his lips against the back of his neck. (Y/N) reached up, pressing the bottom of his palm against Harald's forehead and effectively shoving his head back. Harald huffed childishly, keeping one hand planted firmly on (Y/N)'s hip while the other rubbed his forehead. "Why are you so eager to leave?"
"Why do you want me to stay?"
"Why do you constantly answer a question with another question?" Harald tilted his head, small crinkles forming near his eyes as a wide smile spread across his face. Dropping his hand from his forehead, he turned (Y/N) around and pulled him closer.
"Because it is in my nature." (Y/N) shrugged, hands coming up to rest on Harald's shoulders. He didn't mind being in Harald's arms, he realized. Being held by strong yet gentle arms felt... nice. Comforting even.
"I like that about you."
"You like everything about Greenlanders." (Y/N) felt his lips quirk. "Even their sisters."
"Ah, this is about Freydis, aye?"
"I want to see my brother, Harald." (Y/N)'s eyes briefly shut, forcing the image of Freydis and Harald out of his mind.
"And I want to see you again," Harald admitted softly. (Y/N) felt his body stiffen at Harald's words and he opened his eyes to look into Harald's soft chocolate-colored one. Harald leaned in, kissing him once more before pulling away to speak. "Please, let me see you again." He pleaded gently.
"Why? You can have anyone you want, Harald. You're a prince."
"And I want you."
There was a ringing in his ears as Magnus's men dragged them out of the Great Hall and toward the holding cells, where they were shoved inside the very cell they'd once spent the night in years prior when they first arrived in Kattegat. Sparse hay still covered the ground, and particles of dust were only seen from the light pouring in from the single window. (Y/N) took a few steps into the cell and leaned back against one of the wooden support beams holding up the slanted ceiling, his hands bracing on his knees.
Death wasn't a stranger. He'd lost many friends, grieved many lives, and nearly lost his own numerous times. He couldn't shake the dread from his shoulders, though.
"You look different," Freydis whispered, her fingers brushing over the marks on her wrist from where she'd been shackled. "Older, more mature.." She somberly smiled and ran her palm down to his arm where his tattoo was, her fingertips dancing over it. "I miss when we were children."
(Y/N) pushed himself back and straightened up, gazing over the freckles scattered across her cheeks before he tossed his arms around her. "We thought you were dead." He revealed shakily, inhaling the smell of herbs and rain that clung to her long wavy locks. "I-I thought you were dead. And your boy-"
"His name is Koll." Freydis chuckled breathily, resting her hands against his chest and leaning back. Tears slipped down her cheeks and dripped off her jawline. "He's beautiful. He- He reminds me of you and Leif. He's strong and- and brave and so caring. He's in Greenland.
(Y/N)'s brows furrowed. "Greenland? You went back?"
"Yes, but... You know how Father is. He's... He's desperate. As controlling as always." Freydis brushed her hair back and released the tension in her shoulders through a deep exhale. "He hid Koll away somewhere to force my hand, but my lover is searching for him. He'll be safe with him... I..."
Freydis's lips began quivering, and she leaned in again, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. (Y/N) held her in his arms, her soft sniffles filling the quiet air until someone twisted the lock on the door. It creaked open, and they quickly parted, turning to face the person entering. Leif stepped into the light, pushing back the hood of his cloak.
"Leif.." Freydis whispered in relief.
Leif smiled at her before his eyes moved to (Y/N), and he jerked his head to motion behind him. "Look who found me."
(Y/N) half-expected Harald to step into the light next, but instead, it was a face that nearly made his knees buckle. Her hair had streaks of silver in it, and there were new lines in her face from age, but the confident posture and piercing eyes told him she was still the same woman he'd parted with on that dock in their village all those years ago. (Y/N) staggered forward, and her face crumbled, her arms opening invitingly to him.
"Mother."
Yri let out a half-laugh half-sob when he all but collapsed in her arms. She wrapped them around him tightly and stroked the back of his head as she'd done time and time again when he'd been a boy. She smelled like home, like salt water and smoke. She felt like home, like everything he'd been missing in the past years, like the part of him that he couldn't fill no matter what he tried. The tears fell with ease, seeping from his eyes and tumbling down his cheeks.
"If we want to escape," Leif piped up, pulling away from his own embrace with Freydis. He wiped at his eyes and turned to face them. "You all must listen to me very carefully."
➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸
There was the thunder of drums playing. They filled the air for a moment before ceasing, a distant voice speaking, but his words lost to the wind. He assumed it was whoever was crowning Magnus and Harald as the new Kings of Norway. There was cheering, confirming his assumption, and then the men began pulling him and Freydis forward toward the expecting crowd. Insults were shouted into the air, and they passed the newly crowned kings.
(Y/N) stared forward, avoiding the eyes of the smug Magnus and avoiding looking in Harald's way entirely. His eyes only flickered away from the man leading him to scan the crowd, almost finding himself surprised when he caught the guilty frown on Jarl Nori's face. Years before, the Jarl would have been the one leading the charge against them. It seemed time mellowed out his extremities.
They were led up to a wooden podium in the middle of Kattegat itself, their bodies positioned to face away from each other as they were secured to the wooden pole. There was a man, an archbishop he presumed, who approached them clad in white and gold. He tugged his cloak closer to his body before clasping his hands together and tilting his head up to look at them.
"(Y/N) Eriksson, you have admitted to sodomy and to the sin of laying with other men." The archbishop waited, his shoulder subtly twitching in a barely restrained flinch when (Y/N) glared down at him. He cleared his throat. "Freydis Eriksdotter, you have admitted to the murder of the beatified Olaf Haraldsson."
"I have done nothing but defend the old beliefs." Freydis spat, her head raising to the gathered crowd. "Beliefs you all once held sacred! I demand to fight my accusers and let the gods decide who should live and die."
The archbishop frowned. "Only the one true God can determine guilt or innocence."
"Our fates have been destined and woven by our Viking gods," (Y/N) added, his head craning to peer down at the archbishop before lifting to finally eye the kings watching them from their seats. "They choose who lives or dies. They choose our destinies."
"We are not moved by your pleas to myths and false idols." Magnus dismissed with a soft scoff, his attention dropping to the men at the base of the podium. "Begin this." He ordered.
The wind picked up the slightest and (Y/N) searched the skies for ravens or hawks. Freydis swallowed. "I call the gods to this meeting!" She declared, muttering softly under her breath in their old language. Those in the crowd exchanged nervous glances. "Hear me now. Rise up and protect us from this heresy!"
On cue, one of the outer walls facing the forest erupted in flames that hungrily moved down the rest of the wall. There were shrieks and shouts, the crowd beginning to buzz with fright. Freydis continued, "Strike down your anger and redden these walls with blood!" Another eruption of flames, more frightened shrieks as people began to contemplate fleeing. "This world will fall sooner than our old gods yield!" One of the longhouses caught on fire, the flames spreading rapidly through the roof. "Magnus, the gods have come for you!" One boat erupted in flames.
"Do not fear the witch!" Magnus stood up from his seat, his hands raising to quell the crowd's anxiety. "It is a trick. She commands no power here!"
Some barrels caught fire, and the crowd began moving, rapidly fleeing between the buildings to escape the flames with frightened screams and panicked shouts. Magnus flinched when a roof near them erupted in flames, and he staggered back, his chest moving in deep heaves. He glared down at Harald when the second king spoke before looking back to the podium.
"What are you waiting for?! Light it!"
Before the archbishop could step close to the podium with his torch, one of the many arrows Leif and Yri were shooting pierced the wood around the podium. The stench of sulfur filled his nose, followed by thick, black smoke that clouded his vision. His ears strained through the panic until he heard the clang of metal breaking and his cuffs loosened. Immediately, he leapt off the podium in the direction facing away from Magnus and Harald. Before Freydis could rush toward Magnus, some of Harald's men tossed a bag over her head and carried her off toward safety.
"Leif-"
"It is too dangerous." Leif gave his shoulder a push. "Go!"
(Y/N) cursed under his breath and followed the men, ducking and weaving between buildings until they reached the treeline where they marched through the thick, green brush of the forest up the mountain. Freydis squirmed and shouted, her words muffled by the bag, until she was carefully set down. She huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from her face and sending (Y/N) an irritated glance as her cuffs were properly broken from her wrists.
"I did not know." He told her and raised his arms to get the cuffs off his wrists. "Argue with Leif."
"Oh, I will."
Freydis stormed past him, crushing leaves and twigs beneath her boots on her path toward Leif as he climbed down from his horse. (Y/N) snorted softly and rubbed his sore wrists. His mother approached, her hand coming to rest on his hand and tongue clicking when she noticed the redness along his inner wrists. (Y/N) allowed her to inspect them, knowing she'd force him to regardless, and watched Freydis snap at Leif. The amused grin promptly fell from his lips when Harald appeared on horseback through the trees.
Freydis and Harald quickly fell into an argument, and Leif simply walked past with minor indifference, one hand clutching Freydis's sheathed sword. (Y/N) stepped away from his mother to push through the bushes and foliage toward them, his pace quickening the closer he got. Harald huffed loudly at something Freydis said and turned away from her, his eyes spotting (Y/N) at the last minute before (Y/N)'s knuckles connected with his jawline. Freydis clamped her mouth shut mid-sentence, brows lifting in surprise before smug satisfaction settled on her face.
Harald stumbled back, his foot catching on a small log sticking out that made him fall on one knee. He brushed his fingers over his reddening skin, his lips parting to let out another huff, this time more irritated than the last. "Is this what I get for saving you?" (Y/N) pulled his foot back and swung it forward, hitting squarely where he knew the cut from Maniakes was still healing. Harald cried out, the force forcing him to fall off his knee.
He raised a hand to stop the few soldiers around, quick pants leaving him as he clutched at his side with a wince. "I made an oath." He spoke through gritted teeth. "It was not to lose something important to me."
(Y/N) blinked at him, effectively clearing his blurring vision. Freydis's hand brushed over his back as she turned and walked away to give them some space. His mouth parted slightly before closing again, the tip of his tongue swiping over his lips before (Y/N) giggled. He giggled again and again, and then he lurged into full-blown laughter that left him clutching his stomach and doubling over. "Important?" He repeated breathlessly, his fingertips collecting the tears in the corners of his eyes. "Important?"
"Yes." Harald hissed, grunting when he got back up onto his feet.
(Y/N) took in a deep breath, the shock wearing from his bones and allowing the fury to settle in. "I put up with you for nearly nine years, I take care of every injury, I deal with everything you send my way, I follow you without a single complaint- and I'm not important? I risked my life for you over and over again, Harald! Nine years together, seven with you begging for another chance, and the one time you have a chance to uphold the promise you made me, you agree to kill me?!"
"(Y/N)-"
"No, Harald!" (Y/N) snapped, his voice echoing in the forest and sending a flurry of birds darting into the air. Harald reeled back, his eyes widening briefly. The buzz of anger began fading, exhaustion quickly following to replace it. His head shook, boots digging into the dirt as he stepped backward. "I don't wish to hear it. You will hold your tongue. I hope whatever it is... it eats you alive... because you know that if I had been in your place, I would have done things differently."
(Y/N) swiftly turned and stomped through the green bushes toward the distant sound of shouting. He could hear the rustle of Harald following, but he paid it little mind, more focused on following the footprints in the dirt until he stepped out of the treeline and onto one of the cliffs overlooking the harbor.
He stopped, feeling the rocks and gravel beneath his boots and the refreshing, chilly air whipping past him. His eyes tracked Harald, watching him briefly stop to speak with Freydis and then with Leif. The two of them, along with Yri, continued further down the mountain toward the boat Leif had received from King Canute.
Swallowing, (Y/N) moved, his footsteps slow until he stopped by Harald's side. He stared out at the dark ocean, watching the faraway waves roll and the seabirds dive for fish. He was free, but the feeling wasn't as relieving as he'd hoped for. A hand tentatively touched his hip, lingering to see if he'd swat it away before it tugged him closer. Harald pressed a kiss into his temple, his head tilted to rest his head against his.
"I know I have not always been easy," Harald began softly. "But you must know that I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I knew you'd be someone special, and I do not regret a single moment we've had these past years. I love you, and I will until the day I die. You will be on my mind every night when I fall asleep and every morning when I wake."
(Y/N) exhaled shakily and leaned his head against Harald's for a moment. "You are.. the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me, Harald Sigurdsson." He muttered heavily and lifted his head, raising his hand to touch Harald's cheek one last time. "I hope the crown was worth it... because I am never returning. I love you too... but I don't ever want to see you again."
With a small sigh, he leaned forward, pressing his lips over Harald's. He pulled away, his trembling lips pulling into a small smile at the tears that slipped from Harald's eyes. He stroked his cheek, running his thumb over his cheekbone and the small scar there before he dropped his hand and turned to follow his family down the mountain. He wiped his eyes and let his shoulders sag, a more blissful smile spreading on his face at the sight of everyone waiting.
Summary: With General Maniake's taking control of the city, (Y/N) has no choice but to hide and pray for a quick escape.
CW/TW: Typical Valhalla warnings, mentions of death, implied homophobia,
Someone go get Harald his clown shoes pls
~~~
The night chill nipped at his skin as he hurried through the streets of Constantinople, ducking and weaving through alleyways and staircases. The sandals on his feet were not meant for running, leaving the bottom of his feet aching and sore, but he ignored it. He had to get home. It was his loudest instinct, one amplified when distant screams and shouts echoed through the city behind him.
(Y/N) tossed open the gate leading up to his house and barreled inside, ripping off the mask and his shoes. His eyes adjusted to the darkness engulfing the rooms as he walked through them, rapidly discarding his long tunic and tugging on a much shorter one that he tucked into the pants he slipped his legs through.
He snatched his worn boots from the corner of the room and tugged on the laces, his ears straining to pick up any noise the silence of the night let slip through.
"Fuck," He hissed when the distinct clinking of armor drew closer. Maniake hadn't been merciful; he'd wanted to see him panic one last time.
Taking his dagger, he holstered it to his side and darted out the back door toward the stairs leading down to the beach. There was the muffled sound of the door slamming open, almost sounding as if it broke on impact from the force.
He stuck to the walls spanning along the beach, using the looming shadows to hide himself while putting distance between himself and his former home. Torches appeared on the back patio, and the booming voices of the soldiers shouted out into the night, but after a moment of scoping out the beach from the patio, they retreated into the house.
His heart was thrumming in his ears. There was a rush flowing through his veins he hadn't felt in ages, one that lit his instincts on fire. (Y/N) swallowed and waited for his heart to calm its rapid pace before he hurried down the beach. He'd have to pray Kaysan and the others were spared, for he had no time to slip back into the city to warn them of the storm rapidly approaching. Instead, he went straight to a home he knew would shelter him while he got himself together.
His legs felt heavy, weighed down by the sand and sluggish by the time he reached the back door of Irene's home. He tapped his knuckles against the wood, gently enough to avoid drawing attention but loud enough for the woman that called it home to hear it. Irene's face appeared when the door swung open, drowsy eyes blinking with new alertness and concern once she recognized him and took in the grimace on his face.
"(Y/N)? What's happened?" She asked and ushered him inside, her head poking out to take a quick peek around the beach before she shut the door and spun around to face him with furrowed brows. Strands of her auburn hair sprung spread from the messy braid she oft' put it in, falling and framing her round, freckled cheeks.
"General Maniake." He breathed in the smell of herbs and flowers she strung up and worked with for a living. Irene winced. "He's done something, Irene. I'm not certain what, but he's done something."
"Spatharokandidatos?"
His throat squeezed. Harald, Harald, where had he slipped off to? "Something's happened to him, I think. I.. I couldn't linger."
There was no telling what Maniake was capable of, but he was as smart as he was sadistic, and slaughtering a man in public was not a smart tactic to rally others to his cause. (Y/N) racked his mind for any possibilities, but his brain struggled to focus on anything longer than a second. His hand raised to thumb at his necklace, calloused fingertips rubbing into the smooth bones. He felt a disgruntling feeling of deja vu wash over him.
There was only one thing his body and mind agreed on: getting out of Constantinople and far from General Maniake's reach.
"I cannot promise safety," Irene told him wearily, one hand delicately coming to rest on his shoulder, the heel of it guiding him toward the sofa where he slumped down in relief. Her lips pulled into a sympathetic smile and dimples appeared on her cheeks. "But I can promise shelter as long as it is possible. Whatever has happened, people will speak, and I will learn what I can."
"Thank you, Irene." He released a long, heavy sigh, reaching out to take the soft blanket she offered him and resting it over his lap. Sleep would be fleeting. He managed to smile for her, thankful. "Your help is appreciated."
➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸
"The stars look better from up here, don't you think?"
(Y/N) hummed and tilted his head back to look at them. "They do."
"They seem to shine brighter in Ringerike. You should come with me sometime." Harald offered, but his attention hadn't been on the stars. No, it had fully and completely been on the Viking standing beside him. The Greenlander chuckled softly under his breath, shaking his head and looking at the prince.
"Is Ringerike so boring that all you have to offer are stars?" (Y/N) asked and tilted his head, a teasing twinkle in his eyes. Harald smirked lazily and stepped closer to him, lifting his hand to press it against (Y/N)'s lower back. A chill shot up (Y/N)'s spine, and he tried to repress the shudder that followed. Harald's thumb began to run circles around the clothes covering his skin.
"We've got many things to offer... My bedroom among them." Harald spoke lowly and (Y/N) couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped him.
His eyes snapped open, and he surprised himself when they immediately blurred with unshed tears. Abandoning others wasn't what he was raised to do, wasn't what he was taught. (Y/N) rubbed his eyes and wondered if Harald would have fled, but he knew the answer clearly. Harald would've shoved and shouted and cursed his way through a crowd to reach him while he'd bolted at the first sign of trouble.
It'd been two days since the trap set by General Maniake. He was an observant man, one who noticed Empress Zoe's attention and took advantage of it by inviting them to the masquerade. From the bits and pieces of gossip and news Irene heard through her frequent walks in the city, Emperor Romanos was dead, slaughtered like a pig with Harald inside the room and no one else to prove his innocence. General Maniake accused him of the murder and handed the trial over to the Church to deal with.
His face buried into his hands. He should have left with Leif or Freydis. He should have remained in Kattegat and returned home before the second war. He'd changed, and he wanted to despise himself for it. Too soft, too emotional. His father taught him better. (Y/N) peeled his hands from his face and stood up from the seat, mindful of not drawing too close to the windows where he could easily be spotted.
Irene's home was comforting. It was small, evidently built with only a small family in mind, but she'd decorated it with plenty of greenery and self-made creations to make it feel less lonesome. His fingers danced over a quilt splayed over the back of the sofa, his eyes tracing the blue and gold patterns woven. As much as he enjoyed the company of Irene, it hardly helped keep his mind from running to horrid places.
He turned on his heel when the front door squealed, his breath catching in his throat as he watched Irene quickly slip inside with her basket of fresh vegetables. She closed the door behind her and gave him one of her sympathetic frowns that made him nervous, the type where her lips pouted slightly and her eyes avoided looking him straight on. Irene approached him, her hand pressing over his chest while she set the basket down on the small dining table.
"Your friends have been questioned and will be forced to stand as potential witnesses," Irene explained softly, her hand dropping to retrieve some of the vegetables. His brows furrowed, eyes tracking her along the room until she met his eyes again whilst she washed the vegetables. "General Maniake hopes the Church will charge Spatharokandidatos, not only with the murder of the Emperor but... with sodomy, as well. There is a search for you. I assume your friends will be questioned about your relationship with Spatharokandidatos."
(Y/N)'s eyes squeezed shut. Panic and fear were suffocating feelings, ones that made you feel as if you were being held underwater by force. He despised it. It'd been years since fear had last wriggled its way into his heart. "They will not betray Harald. They are loyal, more loyal than anyone else I've met before. I trust them."
"They are loyal to you, as well.. but if there is even a mere piece of evidence, General Maniake will execute them all, (Y/N). You must go while the trial is being held this evening. You must flee while everyone's attention is focused elsewhere and return to your homeland or- or go to some Viking nation far from here. If General Maniake or his men catch sight of you... He may very well harm you to weaken Harald's resolve."
(Y/N)'s head shook before his mind even processed it. "I cannot leave him, Irene. I cannot leave him or the others, not after everything we have gone through together. There must be something else I can do."
"(Y/N)-"
"Irene."
Irene stopped her movements and took in a deep breath, her thumb running back and forth over the shiny red skin of the apple in hand in thought. She pursed her lips and fluttered her eyes shut for a moment. "General Maniake is a violent man. He will have Harald executed, no matter what happens. He will find a way. The execution will likely be public for all to see a Viking fall. Perhaps you can reach him before the time comes and flee together. But do you truly believe it will be worth it?"
Harald propped himself up onto his elbows, tenderly gazing down at him. He ran his thumb over (Y/N)'s jawline and then his lips, his eyes sweeping over every detail on his face. "I want you to know I would give anything for my love. I would do anything for them. I'd even toss aside my quest for the throne. But only if my love feels the way I do."
"All you've wanted since we met is to be King of Norway, Harald. I don't believe you'd give it up so easily."
"It won't be easy, you're right. But if it's what my love wants..." Harald trailed off and then inhaled deeply, nodding to himself and smiling down at him. "I will gladly do it. I can prove it to you."
"Why?" (Y/N)'s hand slipped down from Harald's hair, traversing over back muscles that flexed slightly at his touch. "I'm just a Greenlander. I am not someone you toss away the crown for."
"But you are." Harald objected, lips ghosting over (Y/N)'s chin. "And if you do not wish for me to leave my destiny, then I beg of you to be with me in court. When I am King, I will follow in Jarl Haakon's footsteps. Norway will turn into an open country where any and all faiths can be worshipped. No more hatred, no more violence."
"That's an honorable plan, Harald." (Y/N) mumbled, brushing back one of Harald's curls.
"What do you say?" Harald asked, tilting his head to gently kiss (Y/N)'s hand. "Will you be mine?"
"Yes."
"Harald may be overly ambitious and bold and far too stubborn for his own good, Irene, but I believe he'd do the same for me. I believe he would stop at nothing to save me or the others from a similar fate. I would be betraying everything I stand for if I simply left. Cowardice is not the Viking way. It is not my way." He asserted softly, despite the pained look on her face, a look that made part of him question if it truly was worth the risk.
Irene's nod was weak, lacking confidence. "We will have to wait for the trial, then. I will attempt to learn what I can once it is over, but... I do not have high hopes, (Y/N). Spatharokandidatos made an enemy of General Maniake the moment he arrived here, in Constantinople, with the Emperor at his side. He or Maniake will come out of this alive, but not both. One of them will have to die, there is no other way."
The hours that passed whilst he awaited to hear the outcome of the trial went by agonizingly slow. He had little to do within the confines of Irene's home other than distract himself with slicing vegetables or brewing herbs for meals or the medicines Irene sold throughout the city.
They kept him busy, but his mind wandered far too often. His mind conjured images of Harald's corpse at the feet of General Maniake, battered and bruised for all of Constantinople to see. Would they cheer for his death as they once cheered for his victories?
He despised the unknown. It chipped away slowly at him.
Irene returned when the sun began to set over the horizon, the glum expression on her face providing him with the answers they both expected the moment they learned of the trial. She settled down on a seat at the dining table and clasped her hands together, her head raising to peer at him with her lips drawn in a grim line. They parted briefly and then shut a moment later, a barely audible sigh slipping from them.
"Spatharokandidatos... has been charged with the murder of Emperor Romanos and admitted to having previously laid with men, but you were not named. He will be publicly executed in two days time. General Maniake's plans to marry the Empress Zoe."
(Y/N) leaned back against the wall out of fear he'd topple over, his gaze tearing away to stare at the cracks along the stone floor. "And... and the others?"
"They were at the trial but refused to speak against him or you. I haven't seen them since. They're likely being questioned or punished for keeping their silence." Irene stood up, the ends of her blue dress grazing the floor and entering his line of sight. Her hand tilted his chin up. "You may have to leave them behind, (Y/N).
"I- I-"
"You must." Irene's thin brows lifted, her golden earrings swinging with a shake of her head. "You have no choice. You cannot save everyone, not this time. You may not even manage to reach Harald in time. Sacrifices will have to be made."
This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair, and his body trembled with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through his body that rendered him speechless. He felt like a child again, a boy who needed someone to guide him, to help him. He was no leader, no mastermind capable of conjuring plans and ideas from thin air. Where was Leif when he needed him?
➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸ ➸
The day of Harald's execution arrived swiftly, leaving his stomach churning with dread and anticipation. He had a vague plan, though not the kind of plan someone like Leif would have created. As he fastened the cloak around his shoulders and tugged the hood far over his head until his features were mostly concealed, he hoped it worked.
"All-Father, I call on you to shield us from death and misfortune," (Y/N) muttered softly as he stepped out of Irene's home and into the daylight. He lifted his head and scanned the surrounding street, finding it as busy as usual and with enough people for them to slip by the guards striding around unnoticed. "Let us find our way to Valhalla if we are to fall in battle."
He repeated the prayer in his mind over and over again, his arm linking with Irene's once they began their walk down the cobbled street. The people around him seemed conflicted, torn between being somber over the execution and festive over having a new emperor to rule them. He kept his gaze forward, eyes locked on the sky peeking through the taller buildings to avoid eye contact with anyone who may recognize him if they looked too closely.
The jails sat on a small island a short boat ride away from the city itself, a means to keep the residents safe if a prisoner were to escape from their holding cell. While public, attending the execution was optional, so boats were lined along the marina for those who wished to bear witness to Harald's death. It was simply a show for Maniake, something to goad and hold over the head of Empress Zoe.
He dropped his attention to the row boats awaiting guests and offered his hand to Irene to help her step onto the wobbly boat. She muttered a soft, tense 'thanks' and lowered down onto one of the seats, her hands resting stiffly over her lap and stare pointed forward. He settled down beside her and inhaled heavily through his nose, repeating the prayer once more. The boat rocked gently with the waves and set sail for the island once the seats were filled.
The prison was imposing. Tall, heavily guarded, and built from stone, it casted a large shadow over the dark waters below and held an unnerving eeriness that grew the closer they got. There were no real windows, just square holes in the walls that allowed the elements inside to torment the prisoners.
(Y/N)'s eyes flickered around the entrance in a vain attempt at gauging how big it truly was with only one side of the wall in view. His ears picked up the hard howls of the wind curving and hitting the walls, faintly muffling the chatter from within.
"Be safe," Irene whispered in his ear and carefully stood up, taking the outstretched hand of a guard and using it to climb onto the dock.
(Y/N) followed, and with one last glance, Irene disappeared into the crowd of people being herded further into the prison toward the seats overlooking the main courtyard. He used the dim lighting in the halls to raise his head fully, taking count of the guards and then ducking into another hallway when the guards were distracted.
His feet guided him through the prison aimlessly, each hall looking identical to the last until he stumbled out into open air again. The stench of death and decay filled his nose immediately.
A strangled noise bubbled in his throat at the sight of Kaysan, Dorn, and Batu tied to wooden posts with drooping heads and crows pecking at their blank faces. Slaughtered, no doubt immediately after the trial when they failed to comply with Maniake.
He approached their strung-up corpses slowly, his mind unable to stop from flickering back to the deaths of his fellow Greenlanders. His eyes stung, but he rapidly blinked away the tears, a shaky exhale leaving his chest as he tugged his dagger free.
Swiftly, he cut the ropes along their bodies and caught them by their waists before they fell. "May you sleep in the embrace of Ran and be reunited with your departed loved ones." He swallowed, heaving their bodies over the edge and letting them slip into the depths surrounding the prison. The ocean would be kinder than men had been, that much he knew. "You can rest peacefully now, friends."
Staggering onto his feet, he clutched the handle of his dagger and slipped into the dark passageway with a newfound resolve. The sound of chattering and shouting got louder, more panicked. He watched the end of the passageway where a few servants began darting down the stairs and hurrying away. One maid raced past him, her hands tightly clutching the skirt of her dress.
"There's a fire!"
(Y/N) only quickened his step and felt his heart clench at the sight of two guards striding forward toward the stairs followed by Harald and another pair of guards. His pace sharpened into a sprint, and he turned the corner toward the stairs in time to hear Harald's enraged cry. Harald held his unlocked metal cuffs in his hand, using them as a weapon as he swung them at the guards' faces. (Y/N) grabbed the back armor plate of the guard closest to him and dug his dagger into the back of his exposed neck.
Harald took the sword of one of the guards, swinging and slashing at the remaining guards until their bodies tumbled down the few steps they'd gone up. He clutched the sword tightly in his hands, his chest heaving with deep breaths and teeth bared. He looked sleep-deprived and dirty, his skin and clothes covered in a light layer of grime and wet from sweat. But he was alive and uninjured and (Y/N) felt the tension disipate from his body.
"Harald.." He breathed, a small relieved smile tugging at his lips when recognition flickered over Harald's face, the tension softening for a moment. (Y/N) moved up the few steps separating them and lifted his palm to delicately touch Harald's cheek. "Come, we have to go before-"
"No." Harald swallowed thickly and tilted his head away from (Y/N)'s touch, his grip on the sword tightening to the point his knuckles turned white. His body shifted sideways, eyes narrowing as he looked toward the top of the steps with a snarl. "I cannot let Maniake live after everything he's done."
(Y/N) gritted his teeth. "Harald-"
Wordlessly, Harald ripped the loose shirt from his body and bounded up the stairs, his shoulder squaring before his bellow for Maniakes's vibrated through the halls, engaged. (Y/N) followed him, his steps more wary of what could be awaiting them. He lingered in the shadow of the stairs archway, his thumb rubbing over the hilt of his dagger while he watched the soldiers swarm Harald with spears but stop at the last second on Maniakes's command.
"Leave him for me." Manikes ordered, and the soldiers backed off.
Harald charged before Manikes could make it to the last step, crying out and swinging. Manikes dodged the blow, the sword nearly cutting through the purple tunic he wore. They swung at each other until Manikes threw his leg up, kicking Harald squarely in the stomach and sending him tumbling down the last few steps, but Harald sprang back onto his feet in little time. Their swords sliced through the air, and their clenched fists followed, making contact where their swords missed.
Eventually, Harald managed to grab Manikes's arm and throw him over his shoulder, both their swords clattering onto the stone floor along with their bodies. Manikes's recovered from the fall first, rushing onto his feet and sprinting toward the closest soldier to rip the spear from their hand. He swung the spear, the wood hitting Harald's side, before he pulled the spear back so the blade sliced through Harald's skin. Harald cried out in pain, but the sensation seemed overshadowed by adrenaline and rage.
The next time Manikes pulled the same move, Harald grabbed the spear and spun on his heels, the back of his fist colliding with Manikes's jaw. He kept his grip on the spear, using it to propel himself up and forward, his knee slamming into Manikes's chest and knocking them down again. He reached for the spear before Manikes and stood, thrusting it into Manikes when he rose back onto his feet. Manikes grunted, getting one last punch in before Harald drove the spear fully into his chest, knocking him off his feet.
(Y/N) watched Manikes's body slump on the ground, blood dribbling past the corner of his lips. His chest ceased movement, and (Y/N) exhaled in relief. There was justice for their friends, for the fallen Emperor who'd put his trust in the wrong man. Harald dropped the spear on the floor with a clatter and staggered backward, sparing the beaming Empress Zoe, who'd watched from her spot overlooking the courtyard, a glance before he turned back toward (Y/N).
"I'll tend to your wound later," (Y/N) told him as he turned, heading back down the stairs and snatching the dirtied tunic off the steps. Harald grunted in response, his nostrils flaring with each heavy breath he took.
They reached the docks and hurried toward a desolate boat rocking in the water. (Y/N) cut it free from the dock and pushed against the rough stone to propel the boat further into the water. He tore through the tunic with his dagger and settled down on the seat across from Harald, carefully wrapping the shredded fabric around Harald's waist to keep the bleeding at a minimum. The slice looked fairly superficial, much to his relief.
"We can travel to-"
"Norway." Harald huffed, his hands grasping the oars. (Y/N) blinked at him, the breath fleeing from his lungs. "We go to Novgorod so I may collect my riches from my uncle and gather an army. Then, we go to Norway... and I will get what is rightfully mine."
(Y/N)'s lips pressed together, a soft sting swirling in the back of his eyes. All the promises, reassurances, the whispers in the middle of the night. What a fucking fool he'd been to believe even for a second Harald had changed. He swallowed, focirbly humming and grabbing the second set of oars.
Please stop trigger tagging with #epilepsy tw/cw/warning/etc.
I need every single person to understand how horrible tumblr’s tagging system is
I go into the tag for epilepsy and its all flashing lights. We can’t use our own tag because people without epilepsy fill it up with improper warnings.
Use ‘flashing’ in place of ‘epilepsy’ in your tags. You aren’t warning people of epileptics, you’re warning us of flashing lights. Please please tag properly. Epileptics say this endlessly and constantly and it’s ignored. You are risking lives by doing this.
Here’s proof of what I mean:
THIS POST IS 100% OKAY TO REBLOG, I ENCOURAGE PEOPLE WITHOUT EPILEPSY TO ESPECIALLY DO SO!
