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krankittoeleven · 1 year

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I would love to hear more about The Ballad of Lonesome Gods!

Sure thing! This is my AC Valhalla Cowboy AU that takes place shortly after the American Civil War, Featuring Eivor, Vili (and eventual Eivor/Vili relations), Ubba, Randvi, Ivarr, Soma & Rollo. Plus Halfdan who is sort of the silent partner/bankroll of the group, and is slowly going insane. They all straddle, toe or completely jump over the line of "morality" in varying degrees, but the only outright scoundrel of the group is Ivarr (because of course he is). There is an underlying vein of Norse mythology woven into the main story that connects to the mythology in AC Valhalla, but mostly its intended to be a fun romp through the wild west while also touching on things like war, slavery, human rights, family, love...you know, the usual.

The snippet below is taken from one of the opening scenes where Eivor is trying to break Ivarr out of jail while pretending to be a Texas ranger (he is NOT a Texas ranger lol).

"You're here for el sin huesos?" the deputy asks before taking a quick look back to the cells behind him. Eivor tries to see around him, but the back room is not well lit.

"Sin huesos?" Eivor repeats, confused. He knows what it means, but not how it applies.

"Yeah, you know,"—the deputy makes an awkward waving gesture with his hand, like a fish, or maybe a snake, swimming through water—"boneless like the slippery, slimy snake that he is."

"Ah," Eivor replies, still skeptical of the application, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, deputy, but last I recall a snake does, in fact, have many bones. And I’m afraid they aren’t very slimy either."

An amused snort makes its way to Eivor’s ears from somewhere in the back room. Ivarr can hear them, of that he has no doubt.

Deputy Ramos glares at Eivor from below the rim of his hat. “What are you, some kind of nature specialist, too?”

“No, I’ve just eaten my fair share of rattlesnake over the years. Picked my teeth clean with many-a rattlesnake bone.” Eivor takes one, two, three steps, each marked with the sound of boot heels and the jangle of spurs, and sits on the corner of the Deputy’s desk. “You ever eat rattlesnake, son?”

“N-no sir,” stutters Ramos as he drops the letter on the table, Eivor’s proximity already having an effect on the poor deputy.

“I thought not,” Eivor says, grinning, as he takes out a pocket knife and slowly pulls out the blade. He already feels bad for him, he’s going to be in a world of trouble when they are through. He lets the silence build around them for a moment as he examines his fingernails, then begins to pick them clean with the tip of the knife. “Now what do you say, son? How about you get me my prisoner so I can be on my way?”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t do that.” For his part, the deputy did sound remorseful.

“And why is that?” Eivor asks, his attention still on his fingernails. When he hears Deputy Ramos take a deep breath, Eivor looks up at him. It’s like the kid is trying to suck his courage back in.

“Sir, this is the great Territory of New Mexico, and not a Texas Ranger, nor a Governor of the United States has any real authority here. You can speak to the Sheriff, but it will take more than a fancy letter to convince him. The prisoner has committed crimes here, too.”

“I’m sure he has,” replies Eivor as he slips off the desk and back to his feet. He folds the pocket knife and puts it back in its place on his belt in one smooth, quick motion. He takes a single step towards Ramos and the deputy seems to step back to preserve the scant distance between them. “Where I come from, his wanted posters are as long as my horse’s...well, I’m sure you know what I’m getting at.”

Deputy Ramos laughs nervously and takes a step back and then another. Eivor matches him step for step before reaching up to remove his hat. He holds it against his chest, as if in reverence.

“He is a felonious little vermin, deputy, and I wish to see him brought to justice.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

They each take another step, Eivor’s voice raising just the slightest bit.

“He stands accused of arson…”

Step.

“...fraud…”

Step.

“...assault, battery, horse theft…”

Step step step.

“...and among other things: murder, most foul.” The last words drip slowly from Eivor's mouth like molasses drips from a spoon.

Deputy Ramos takes another step back, the dawning realization that he’s taken his last slowly creeping across his face as his boot heel clangs against steel. He reaches for his gun but a hand catches him around the wrist as another slips between the bars, fingers wrapping around his throat. The deputy struggles, his free hand going to the wrist of the hand that chokes him, his feet kicking out weakly at Eivor, so weakly he doesn't even bother trying to avoid them. The Deputy's hat falls to the floor as he starts to go limp.

“I hate being called boneless,” Ivarr growls, like the caged animal that he is.

#ask games #asks

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ilikedetectives · 3 years

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“Eivor is m!Eivor’s skin!”, sweetie, calm down, the dude doesn’t even have a name, he’s just called “M_Player” in the game files. At least Eivor was called Jora.

“Jora is a gender-neutral name!”, honey, how feminine or gender-neutral do you think “M_Player” is? Are you saying Ubi originally planned to give us 2 male protags to choose from? Are you hearing yourself? Just so we’re clear “M_Player” means “Male Player”, not Magnus, lol.

ACK_Jora_Head_DiffuseMap_PC_Ggp_Prospero_Scarlett 1868049798387

Head_M_Player_DiffuseMap_PC_Ggp_Prospero_Scarlett 1868050260562

We don’t know why the devs changed Jora to Eivor (my gut feeling? Probably cuz they wanna make sure there’s no question about female is canon, as if “Let the Animus decide” mode, she/hers pronouns even if you play as male, and Varinsdottir/Varin’s Daughter aren’t enough proof), because Eivor is undeniably a female name, specifically, an old woman’s name. Think of it like Beth for example. So yea, female has always been in the plan to be canon from the get go. If “M_Player” doesn’t show how much the narrative team doesn’t care about him (I’m sure marketing team loves him tho), idk what can; narrative team didn’t even bother consider a name for him lol.

So yea, the physical attributes of Eivor are definitely intentional as part of her character. Listen, I know it’s trendy to shit on Ubi for reusing base game assets like Helix outfits (have you seen the Roman statues in Alexandria in Origins popping in Asgard lololol?) and Ubi totally deserves it, but it’s not the case here. Eivor walks like a brute. Idk about you but growing up in Nordic winter, walking in knee to waist-high snow, carrying heavy supplies, while riding horses, fighting, and fishing, I don’t think Eivor can walk like Aspasia/Hekate. Even then, Ubi could’ve easily gave Eivor Aspasia’s walking animation, swap and done; shit, they could’ve given her Kassandra’s walking animation, they have all the feminine walking animations in their assets library from Origins and Odyssey to choose from if they want, but they didn’t! I’m convinced that this is intentional. Holy hell, Eivor has arm hair, do you know how rare that is in video games? A female protag with arm hair? Granted the LOD is :hidethepain:, but I see they’re putting in the effort! If someone says she’s men’s skin for her hairstyle, armor, and voice, Imma summon Abby and let her slap some misogynies out of you. Also if you say you can’t relate to a queer character cuz she isn’t strictly attracted to only men, please get your homophobic ass out of my blog. The devs could’ve gone with a more feminine Eivor to “sell” better like what the higher-ups/marketing want, but they didn’t! So celebrate that spirit, instead of shitting on it because your misogynist brains can’t understand the narrative for a gnc, queer woman.

“But but, there are choices!” oh, do you hear that? That is the sound of Ubi making sfm money with turning AC into an RPG that these RPG elements are here to stay, “Let the Animus decide” is a good meet-me-half-way method to let those who want to experience the story as canon, suck it up buttercups.

Conclusion: a lot of us (including me) would love a stand-alone female lead, but that takes progress, especially with Ubi’s culture. Change is not immediate, higher-ups will always be higher-ups. Progress is slow, but I do see some improvements, at least in terms of canon. We go from not knowing Kassandra is canon until the scandal last year to now having multiple explicit proofs from the game and a canon gameplay mode showing Eivor is canon: she is queer, she is buff, her voice is rough, and she has arm hair! I, and a lot of people, like to count this small victory. You want changes, good for you, but don’t shit on the progress made so far that basically lays the foundation for better changes to come, as “lazy” work, because you can’t handle gnc, queer women as women. You get changes by celebrating the small victories, not shitting on it.

#Scandanavian culture and history experts feel free to chime in about Jora #Eivor #eivor varinsdóttir #eivor varinsdottir #f!Eivor #AC Valhalla #Assassin's Creed #assassin's creed valhalla #Kassandra #Ubisoft #AC Odyssey #Cisterhood #AC Sisterhood #misogynistic feminists

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ezioauditore-s · 3 years

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top 5 historical figures in ac, top 5 underrated characters ❤️

top 5 historical figures

1. LEONARDO!!!!! ubisoft may be dumb and stupid when it comes to some of their characters, but leonardo was Everything. I wouldn't say it feels 100% (like he comes across much cockier and up himself in his journals lol and in ac hes just....always in the same place so meh) but I do appreciate how they not only worked his inventions/paintings and personality to fit around ezios story so well, but the way they handled (hinted) his sexuality was amazing, and while never 100% confirmed, it better than most of seen handle it (coughleonardoraicough).

2. sokrates. who never shuts up super annoying but my god if they didnt nail it, you dont think it would be Hard to make a character whos so wose, oddly likeable but also one where your like " no yea im backing ur murder bro soz" but nope ubisoft did it good for them

3. caterina sforza. how can i begin to describe caterina sforza 😍😍. i hear she could ride a horse, hunt and dance. they say she rebelled agaibst the pope. they used to call her the "tigress". she also wrote books about medicine and alchemy. caterina sforza 💍💍💍

4. alkibiades. an amzing character, a incredible portrayal. i think we should be allowed to sleep with more historical characters its what we are all here for lbr.

5. brasidas. a figure i knew nothing about before but who seems incredibly interesting. and i know ubisoft SHOUDNT change history, butttt 👀👀👀

-----

top 5 underrated characters

1. maria thorpe. i think shes an incredible character and i wish there was more content for her. the enemies to lovers with altair, going from templar to assassin, dressing as a man, being an outspoken confident women. the book & bloodlines gives her a lot of backstory and i think a lot of people misunderstood her 😔

2. cristina. while i think the brotherhood romance was incredibly out of the blue, i think in its entirety cristina's story was heartbreaking. her romance with ezio was a tragic case of missed connections but cristina herself seemed confident but still sweet and sentimental.

3. hytham. is he underrated? meh i dont care he restarted the british brotherhood and did so much for not only the brotherhood, but also eivor. better at his job than basim was thats the tea i hope he gets his promotion

4. lucy stillman. i know there are Business reasons why lucy had to die but the loss of her character potential hurts. i dont get the traitor thing, and i feel her and desmond could have been much more if they were fleshed out more. :((

5. henry green. though ive not played syndicate yet, i've seen quite a few comments complaining aout his character & romance which, knowing a bague outline of his story role, seems petty and dumb

henry green i love you 💖💖

anyway .....

#ask #only an hour left omg im soo tired but like whats th point of sleeping?#ask games

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assassinscreed-photomode · 4 years

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softish Spoilers for the final final chapter (Hunting Alfred)

��

long, sorry. also I have an identity crisis at the end. Fuck england

Gods I hate that final final hunting king Aelfred quest, erasing that from my memory in 3 2 1...nope, everyone was just horribly injured, but survived and they all got everything they wanted, and lived full happy lives until the end of their days! Woo fiction!

Seriously, my delicate heart can’t take the whole trope of bringing in all these wonderful fantastic characters only for them to be used as pawns to sacrifice in the final chapters for the emotions.

I actually ended up skipping through a number of death scenes and similar because I was so desperate to get to the end. I don’t even know for sure how many of the characters died lmao......It really draws you in with those first few chapters, oh look how fun and interesting everyone is, here's a low stakes saga to get you started and then BAM dead dead dead.

I don’t know what it is.

I think because this game is set in my country, one that I have a complicated relationship with. Many of the regions I know and love, places I have not been able to go to or anywhere this year due to covid, I found myself feeling deeply emotional in regard to certain visual and regional aspects of it, and then that high emotional state would transfer onto the characters and story. It mainly manifested in me having deep deep empathy for our Eivor, so much that I felt I was hurting on her behalf. Especially in regards to Sigurd, all those visions, the shit that went down in Norway like girl ARE YOU OK? Someone hug her, please.

There were times I was playing this where I genuinely felt distressed and anxious on behalf of Eivor, mainly in regards to Sigurd’s sudden anger after Suthsexe, but that's a whole other thing. I tried to be perfect around him so he wouldn’t shout at me, which obviously didn’t work. which is literally what I learnt to do as a small child and have been working through now I’m an adult. Did Sigurd fuck with my mental health progress? Omg that’s kinda amazing lol. (though it did work out with him returning to Ravensthorpe with me because I didnt fck his wife and punch him in the face, so lesson.....learnt???)

AC games can be stressful because they chronicle somebody’s whole life from start to finish, and that can feel like a lot of pressure when you are playing through the game and growing very found of the character you are using.

It’s also a bittersweet ending because you know that historically.................y’know with Alfred and the Danes, it’s no fairy tale. Its a shitshow, the danes do not conquer england or leave, they slowly lost more and more land over the century and their culture just blurred in with all the others

That SHIT IS NOT OVER.

England’s history is so so ugly. I’m talking England specifically, not Britain. It’s hideous, truly. There has not been one age in England that hasn't be fraught, fractured and rotting. From when the Romans showed up and started killing off and kicking out the indigenous celtic people, to god damn last week.

Like, as an english person who has roots and ancestors deep in these regions from as far back as my family can tell, who am I meant to be rooting for in this story? Who are me? The Saxons? They shot up from germanic regions a few hundred years before, are they my people? The Vikings? Danes the like invaded and took the land, for...reasons? I suppose? I mean, I did grow up in a town names for a viking raid of the monastery there...?

Should I root for the celtic britons? Don’t get me wrong Rhodri was evil, but is he my people?

By the time england became england, where there any celts still there? All kicked out of killed off by invading forces. Should I be rooting for the Picts from Scotland and the Pagans from the West Country? Indigenous Celts, who stick out and stand out in Valhalla’s England but were once the only people there, do they count as me? Or whatever is left of Roman descendants? Am I all of them? Centuries later the French took over, sort of. It was all mixed together at that point, genetically, culturally.

What does it even mean to be english? It’s like an ancient version of america. We all came from somewhere else, or left. What counts as being from somewhere?

I mean, I kind of knew this history before, but this game has really cemented in me just how fucked up the concept of england is. The last 5 years or so, politically, has made me resent and hate england in many ways. Not britain, england. I couldn’t imagine myself loving it ever again. But I think I do, I think I understand what it is now, more than I did before.

A mish mash of fractured ancient cultures clashing together trying to resemble a country. Its a wound that may never truly heal, but that is what makes it different from its celtic neighbours . NOT BETTER but it just had a different and very ugly start in life. I always joke about needing to move to scotland, to escape. But I know I never will, I’ve always known. I can’t do it. When Ivarr was talking about Ubba in that drinking scene, saying he disagrees with what Ubba is doing and what his goals are but he CAN’T leave him, he’s his brother. Yeah, that’s kind of how I feel about this stupid ancient busted up land.

I just want Eivor to be happy. I’m reminded of an amazing post I saw here on tumbler years ago, it went something like: I feel like a lot of people fail to realise that for some, loving fictional characters is the closest thing they have to loving themselves. Self love, self compassion, it can be so, so hard. So when you see someone else on screen, someone you can relate to, you pour your heart and soul into loving them. You want to protect them and give them all the love you can’t quite convince yourself you deserve. And by doing that, maybe just maybe, they can bring you one step closer to loving yourself.

I feel like I’ve been trampled by a fucking horse. This started out as a joke post about head canons and turned into me delving into my life long relationship with national identity. All I’m going to do in Valhalla now is fish.

Wow, successful therapy session, thanks all

._.

#WHY DO I PLAY ASSASSINS CREED #It just fucking hurts #lol #I never learn #I should have known it was gonna hurt when they kept introducing #such lovely lovely characters #Assassin's Creed #valhalla #eivor #assassins creed #assassins creed valhalla #assassins creed spoilers #valhalla spoilers #female eivor #asscreed

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krankittoeleven · 2 years

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WIP WED---ERM...THURSDAY! Was gonna post this yesterday, but I forgot.

This is actually a snippet from an as yet unshared Ubba/Vili WIP that I've been working on for way too long, but I want it to be complete before I post it since it's supposed to a one shot, but it's gonna end up in two chapters probably.

The general background for the fic is that it is set post game (yes, that means Ubba lives :D), with a similar head canon to WOL except that they don't hook up early on and instead spend a dozen or more years pining over each other and getting distracted by life like a pair of morons. I cannot write slow burn to save my life, but I can write the out come of it. LOL So that's what the fic is. That being said...this chunk of fic is totally out of context so none of that really matters to what you are reading right now. XD

Also, I don't know why, but I really love these two being in humorous situations at completely inappropriate times.

“When my father died Trygve was still full of life; you were never far away; Eivor was always coming and going; and I could trust Halfdan to have my back. Even Ricsige wasn’t terrible in a pinch. But now—”

Vili stands and paces towards the water. Ubba can feel those imagined threads pulling at their knots. One feels like it is nestled squarely in his stomach; tugging, aching.

“—now I feel like I have nothing. Freya bless Trygve, but I worry about leaving him alone these days, even though I know he’s happy to warm the throne and see me off every now and then.”

“Vili, I—”

He what? What could he possibly say? Sorry? It felt like it was too late for that.

“I will go to Jorvik and speak with Halfdan. I will organize his men myself if I have to.”

Ubba stands, even as Vili is waving off his offer.

“I didn’t tell you to guilt you into fixing it for me,” Vili does not sound angry, but his frustration is close to it, “and I don’t need you to fix it for me.”

Ubba reaches out and takes Vili by the wrist, pulling him in close.

“I am offering exactly what I would offer if you had come to me for help. Why didn’t you come to me for help?”

“You always seem so busy,” replies Vili, sheepishly, as he looks away to stare down at his captured wrist.

The tug at the knot in Ubba’s stomach grows more fierce as he sighs and places his free hand under Vili’s chin, lifting it so they are looking each other in the eyes.

“I am never too busy for you.”

Vili is smiling and shifting his head so that Ubba is holding the side of his face.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“There is no need to tha—”

Something whizzes past them, behind Vili—but only just—and splashes into the lake.

It takes a moment for Ubba to realize that the thing had been an axe. In fact, they had already been moving to defend themselves before they had even known what they were defending themselves from.

Ubba scrambles to where their horses are tethered and where most of their weapons are. He tries to stay low, but for him that was the difference between being a mountain and a slightly smaller, hunched over mountain. Hiding had never been his strong suit.

He splits his attention as he moves; watching where he is going and watching the nearby field. It was the only place an attack could have come from without them having seen it coming; wrapped up as they were in their little world.

When he arrives at the side of the horses Ubba eyes them suspiciously for not having noticed anything. He unties their leads in case he needs to get away quickly, or in case the horses themselves need to escape theft or slaughter; if they would even bother to notice it coming.

“Do you see anything?” Vili asks from somewhere behind him.

Ubba looks back towards where they had been standing and at first he cannot see where Vili has hidden himself, but then he spots a bit of his cloak behind the fallen tree they had been using as a seat mere moments ago.

“No, they are hiding themselves well in the tall grass. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Bet you it’s a little raiding party of Picts. I’ll eat this log if it’s not.”

As if in response an arrow lodges itself in the dead tree. Vili quickly reaches over it and breaks the arrow off before it even has a chance to stop vibrating. A furious groan floats up from behind the tree and then Vili is waving the feathered shaft of the arrow above his head.

“See, I told you!”

Another arrow lands with a thunk in the dead wood of the tree, this time a little closer.

“Lower your voice you fool,” Ubba says as he lowers his own and positions himself with the horses between him and the direction he thinks the attack will eventually come from. He hates to use them like living shields but he is hoping that the Picts will find more value in keeping the horses alive should they be the victors. “How well do they know our language?”

“Some better than others,” Vili whisper-yells. “Some of the chiefs can hold a conversation. Not many of the low level fodder. Why?”

“I just want to know if it is a matter of them hearing us or actually understanding us.”

“Probably the first part,” Vili says, sounding fairly confident, “Besides, your horrible Dane pronunciations would throw them off, anyway.”

“My horrible pronunciations?” Ubba nearly yells. As it is, his whisper is barely a whisper. For a moment their predicament is nearly forgotten. “What makes yours so perfect?”

“It’s the language of the northmen, that’s literally my people.”

“The Dane-march is north of many places.”

“But not Norway.”

Ubba does not need to see Vili to know that he is smiling.

#ubba ragnarsson #vili hemmingson #wip #my fanfiction #my wips #wip wednesday #ubba #vili #ubba x vili #ac valhalla #assassin's creed valhalla #assassin's creed #writing

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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years

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Hello again, I'm the anon from before... I have a request, if you can write it... it would be male Eivor x f!reader... Eivor meets a lady and has to fulfill some tasks to get an alliance for the Raven Clan, but he ends up falling in love with her and things get hot between them... (sorry my first language is not english lol) thanks and xx 😘��

“That is my offer.” You laid it out before him, standing over the table that showed where the Raven Clan had established their alliances in England thus far. They had been making good progress.

You had come to Ravensthorpe on behalf of your people in a town just a 15 minute ride by horse away. You were agriculturalists which meant you were rarely hungry but also quite defenceless and a target to those without food. You had come here alone considering that your town’s people were not too fond of these norse and danish settlers but their pride and prejudice would be the death of them. The previous day, bandits had stolen five cattle and set a silo on fire in retaliation to the farmer trying to stop them. He had been burnt to a crisp trying to preserve the grain.

“Five percent of your harvest goes to my town’s people…” The norseman before you began, “And a system of trade established between us.”

“In exchange for your protection, yes. My people are not fighters, Eivor.” You paused to let out a sigh, rolling your eyes, “In fact, they’re quite stupid too when it comes to the wider picture, I’ve had to come alone because they’re thick-headed enough to want bandits to pillage us more than they want protection from your people.”

“And you don’t harbour this same disdain for my people?” He raised a brow, crossing his arms, looking rather amused.

“You’ve never wronged me but bandits have. Sure, I’ve heard tales of monasteries being raided and burned but…” You scrunched your nose distastefully, “When famine strikes and all those monks sit around their feasts in silence, what do they give us? Prayers. They give us empty words and false hope instead of bread to feed our starving families with. I say let them burn and if you take their gold when you do it, it matters not to me.”

“You seem like a cold woman.” He spoke, a tone of amusement in his voice.

“I’m logical, not cold.” You corrected, leaning against the table.

“What would you have us do to secure this alliance, if your people do not like us?” The woman with fishtailed brown hair, who had earlier introduced herself as Randvi, asked.

“Take out the bandits, make them realise how foolish they are being. We have not yet lost enough to be at risk when winter comes, regarding food stores, but gifts will help too.”

“Are you a sort of leader in your town?” She asked, pacing around the table a little.

“No, just the one with a bit of common sense.” You shrugged, “I don’t like the leadership role - I’ve never liked the attention - but it’s frustrating to see people fail because they’re…” You furrowed your brows, trying to contain your anger and direct it into a sentence, “so stupid, you know? So I guess that I’m only doing this because I think everyone else is going about it wrong.”

“Now that,” Eivor laughed, “I can understand. You may call on my people whenever you are in need of defending, we will come and we will help repair any damages from conflict.” You bowed your head in thanks, glancing up to him one more time.

You had thought it when you first laid eyes on him after asking for an audience with the Raven Clan’s jarl. He had long blond hair that was held away from his face with various braids that had little metal cuffs around some of them. His eyes were a brilliant blue and he had an angular face with a jaw covered in a well-kept beard. A scar ran from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth and he had a raven tattooed across his right temple, dipping back towards the shaven part of his head. Your eyes followed that tattoo to the large scar at his neck. You wondered what story it had to tell, you were sure that he was full of stories that would mesmerise a girl from a small farming town like yourself.

“Thank you, Eivor. I hope that my people will take kindly to your generosity.” And with that, you excused yourself from Ravensthorpe’s longhouse, getting back on your horse to head home.

When you returned, your mother had demanded where you had been, which led to your father yelling at you for what you had done, which led to you being put before the master of the town who did very little other than sit on his arse all day and ask how the harvests were coming along. You were already in his bad books after refusing a marriage that he had wanted arranged between you and his second son. It had taken a lot to deter him and so you weren’t particularly thrilled to be in his home once more.

However, you stood your ground. You preferred to be right than to be liked and you knew that, with a little patience, everyone would come to see the sense behind your decision.

“You trade away five percent of all our harvest to these…. Invaders?!” He exclaimed.

“I’ve watched the harvests over the years, it has been long since famine has struck and even with paying the five percent, it means we are far less likely to lose any stocks if we are defended and we also have to opportunity to trade with the Raven Clan who are much more connected across the lands than we are.”

“You deem yourself more fit to make these decisions for the town than I, woman?” He spat the last word and you knew that it had been in an attempt to degrade you.

“Perhaps we need a woman making these decisions, that way she will be thinking with a brain and not a cock. I’ve watched you sit back and do nothing-!” You shrugged off the grip of your mother’s hand on your upper arm who was trying to stop you from offending the master, “When we have been attacked! Our cattle have been stolen, slaughtered, our silos have been burned to the ground and we have had bandits stealing our crops in the night for weeks. What have you done about it?” You gestured around, “Sat on your arse and demanded that we fix our own messes. Well, I hate to break it to you, master,” The word dribbled from your mouth like venom, “but your position defines these problems as your own before they belong to anyone else.” You clenched your fists, “We will see who is the more capable leader when the bandits strike again.” And, not waiting for a dismissal, you stormed out of the hall.

***

As they usually did, the bandits had struck in the cover of night just two days after your meeting with Eivor and your clash with the master. Wasting no time, you got on a horse and rode off towards Ravensthorpe, hoping everything could be sorted in time. You had been stopped by patrolling guards at the town’s border and hurriedly explained the situation to them. In no time, warriors and shield maidens were shaken awake to come to your aid and you led them all back to your humble little town, gasping at the sight.

Two thatched roofs of homes were on fire and a few bodies were laid around. This was terrible; it wasn’t a raid but a full-blown attack. As soon as you dismounted your horse, a set of hands landed on your shoulder and opposite upper arm, you jumped at the contact and turned to find Eivor.

“Get to safety, find your family if you can.” There was concern in your eyes and you nodded your head before running as fast as your legs could take you to your home, finding your mother, father and infant brother inside.

“Barricade the door!” You exclaimed, pushing the dining room table onto its side. Your father joined you to push it against the front door and your mother was desperately trying to shush your brother. Nothing could be done about barricading the windows for now so, instead, you drew the curtains while your father blew out all the candles.

You waited in the dark, longing to peer out of the window to see what was going on but knowing that it would only put you in danger. You trusted your decision in establishing this alliance and you knew that your people had a much better chance of surviving this way.

But something wasn’t right. There was something wrong. The bandits had never been so bold before, why would they strike like this so shortly after an alliance had been established? At the rate the crop fields were burning, the town’s people would have to buy whatever they could afford from the nearest town that the master had-

“It’s all planned!” You exclaimed, leaping to your feet and peering out of a window to look towards the master’s house.

“What do you mean?” Your father spoke in a quieter tone, trying to urge you to be quieter.

“The master’s eldest son, he’s married to a Lady from Oxenefordscire.” You breathed out, “A few winters ago, after the last famine, we were bled dry buying food from them just to live. The master got all the best cuts and was rewarded in gold for the… boost that we provided to their economy. The selfish bastard! This is all about money to him! I’d be willing to bet he’s working with the bandits!” You pulled the table from the door enough to slide out of it, grabbing a nearby pail. “We have to save the crops now or else he’ll succeed and we’ll be put into that same position.”

You and your father had had disagreements about your ways in the past, but looking around at the flames and hearing the sounds of battle, noting how the norse fighters were saving your town, he nodded his head and your mother was barricaded back into the house as the two of you ran off towards the fields, calling for help along the way. You looked to the fields and dropped the pail for a scythe, getting as close to the scorching flames as you could and beginning to crop them in fluid motions that you had spent your life learning, stopping the fire from spreading any more.

“You fools! Fight back!” You heard the master’s voice and you glanced over to where the bandits were now retreating. You were right. He was paying them to push your people to the brink of starvation so that the nearest county would reward him for it in gold. You continued cropping, two men and a woman having joined you by now while others had come to douse the flames. You didn;t have much time to take in your surroundings in the rush, but you were later informed of how Eivor’s people had fought bravely and helped to put out the fires started in homes. Your family came out unscathed too, minus you and your father being drenched in sweat from the heat of the fires you had tried to protect your produce from.

Most of the town were up all night and beyond the sunrise to repair the damages while the master holed himself up in his home, people now standing guard at each exit so that he couldn’t escape without facing the consequences of what he had done.

You managed to catch up with Eivor as he was hefting a scorched wooden beam over his shoulder. You paused to take in the sight: he looked so powerful, effortlessly lifting such a heavy thing and leading the people around him to clear up the damage so that repairs could be made.

“Eivor!” You called after him once he had set the damaged beam aside, he turned around to meet you, hair falling past his shoulder as he did and he gave you a sympathetic smile.

“I am sorry for your losses.” He spoke up in that accent of his that only seemed to make you swoon now.

“There would have been many more if not for your help.” You glanced around to see your own town’s people and the Raven Clan working together. “And I’m glad to see that it has dispelled any harsh feelings that my people harboured against yours. I hope that we can build upon a strong foundation after this night.”

“As do I.” He rested his hand on your shoulder to convey his sincerity and you took that hand in your own, wrapping both of yours around it.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, I would like for you, or one of your people if you haven’t the time, to teach me how to fight. I felt… defenceless in my home, which is why I went out to save the crops, why I went to Ravensthorpe to establish this alliance in the first place, I hate sitting back and doing nothing.” He nodded his head, a sincere smile playing at his lips.

“You were brave to do what you did, I saw you. You were also clever enough to see that your town’s master,” The word was spoken with utmost disdain as he looked towards said man’s home, “was making your people suffer for his own gain. Once you have taken account of all losses and damages, I will see what I can do about teaching you how to fight. Is that alright?”

“That’s perfect, Eivor, thank you.” You gave his hand a slight squeeze before excusing yourself to go help take down the blackened crops in the field.

***

Your town had handled the situation as follows: count the dead, bury them, calculate the losses of produce, preserve what you could, hold trial against the master, hang him.

There was talk of an election to take place soon and your father was considering running, so long as he could have you to advise him. You had since moved out and had now settled in a cosy little home on the outskirts of Ravensthorpe. Eivor had been teaching you how to fight with an axe and shield and you were taking to it naturally. You enjoyed the mix of English and Norse culture that could be found in the hamlet and had even taken to Valka’s guidance on what offerings to leave to which gods. You donned more Norse-looking attire in the winter when it grew cold as it was more practical for such temperatures and reverted back to your English tunics when the heat rose again in summertime.

Oh, and you had been right about Eivor being full of stories that would mesmerise you. He laid in your bed now, on his back with your head resting on his chest, tracing over the lines of his tattoos as he stroked your hair with one hand and gesticulated alongside his story with the other.

“I’d love to see Norway…” You mumbled against his skin, “It sounds beautiful… I don’t know how I’d fare against the cold, though.” The two of you laughed a little at this.

“Perhaps similarly to how I handle the summers here.” You laugh even harder.

“Being pushed to the brink of death by the weather then?” He jostled you a little, making you lean up on one of your forearms to smile at him, adoring seeing him so happy in moments like these. It’s true though, he had told you all about how horrid he found those few weeks of English summertime: it was different to other lands he had been to, he explained, it was so humid that it felt hotter than it really was and he had fallen victim to heatstroke a few times.

“You Norse folk come over here, do the devil’s work and steal the lord’s gold,” He rolled your eyes at your theatrical tone, knowing the two of you both found this narrative utterly ridiculous, “and we have nothing to defend ourselves with against you except for the few sodding weeks of summer we get on an annual calendar that’s otherwise utterly miserable. The moment summer’s over, what do we get? Rain, wind, wind, rain, a sprinkle of snow and some more rain.” He pulled you back down onto him and kissed the top of your head.

“I think you’d do fine enough in Norway as long as you’re wrapped up warm enough…” His tone dipped to become deeper as his lips trailed down from your temple to the side of your neck, turning you over slowly with his hands pressing your hips down into the furs beneath you, “And if all those layers don’t work…” A nip at your collarbone which made you gasp. “I can think of some other ways to warm you…” You held back a moan as his lips trailed down to your breasts, hands roaming up and down your sides.

“And what would that entail?” You shuddered in anticipation.

“Allow me to show you…”

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