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shinjisdone · 4 months

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To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 10, Finale of S1)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors. Though it is more difficult than anyone can could ever imagine…

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet and crawl your way into Thorfinn’s heart (based on season 1; both platonic and romantic)]

Part 1 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 14 and how he is at that age

Part 2 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 16/17 + headcanons of growing closer (slightly following s1 story)

Part 3 is here - blooming friendship with Thorfinn (slightly following s1 story)

Part 4 is here - Thorfinn unwittingly opening his heart as he realizes he does not want you to die

Part 5.1 is here - sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 5.2 is here - other sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 6 is here - meeting Canute and becoming his guard - Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

Part 7 is here - Canute grieving over Ragnar and Thorkell catching up; Thorfinn leaves you alone for revenge

Part 8 is here - Thorfinn wins against Thorkell; Questioning your bond with Thorfinn

Part 9 is here - Meeting Leif and Thorfinn dueling Askeladd; Losing while Askeladd told him the truth of his constant losses

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets

Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Only mentioned and used as examples. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: Lost Thorfinn, you snapping, confrontation, crying and screaming, Thorfinn kinda losing it, depressive vibes, Thorfinn thinking about death, mentions of blood and snot, zombie Thorfinn, longing, abandonment]

It's Just Like A Burning Torch In A Storm, Like A Little Flower Blooming In A Home...

The weather has worsened as Askeladd predicted.

Even as it was past noon, the sky darkened in a warning as if it were the middle of the deadly night. Snowflakes that started out so lovely of how light they were, were now raining down like arrows and blurring the sight. You could barely see any light come from York and simply trotted after the footsteps your 'leaders' and 'liege' left behind.

You scoffed at the fear of the trails being hidden away by the upcoming storm at this pace, however. Dragging Thorfinn by his wrist would take forever until you'd find shelter.

You had told him to rest his broken arm in the sling but he let it swing with every little limp he managed after you. His good arm was just as lax and he barely let out any signs of pain of how utterly and crushingly tight you gripped his wrist as you dragged him after you. Hunched like a bell ringer, his pants and groans were as quiet as a mouse.

You bit your tongue. He barely paid any attention and just let you haul you around like a dog-

A thump. Thankfully you did not let your grip falter on him as he fell to his knees. Swallowing down a sigh, you turned around and tugged on his wrist. "C'mon. The snow is getting heavier."

Thorfinn hung his head.

"C'mon." You called out louder, tugging at him again. With a dreadfully slow pace, Thorfinn managed to lift one leg after another. After helping him up, you turned around to lead the way.

The same song all over again. The scenery did not seem to change, Askeladd and friends having vanished right under your nose. It felt like you were stranded on a place familiar yet far away. Freezing snowscapes weren't an ucommon sight and they surely were not with only Thorfinn as your company but this caving, this sharp chilliness that felt paralyzing as your heart seemed to give in the longer you dwelled here - as if this place was cursed - it was a first. It was all a first, daunting and frightening. Although, you doubted you could really pinpoint your feelings right now.

You let yourself sigh in frustration as Thorfinn fell once again. The crunching of the snow has become irritating and you snapped towards him. "Thorfinn. I know you can stand. You were running towards Askeladd just moments ago," You hoped it was 'just' moments ago, "Stand up already, don't have me haul you."

All you received was another groan. Another attempt but he kept on slipping. With a growl of your own you kneeled down to hold him under his arms. Heaving him with great effort, you almost slipped yourself as the blonde stayed limb, letting you lift him up with all your might. You felt like a mother with an grown man.

You scolded him again as he simply let himself lean on you once you were up on your feet - before pushing him away and giving him a good shake.

Still, he almsot tumbled down again.

"Thorfinn!" Yelling did not seem to effect him as well as his eyes, black and blue, narrow and swollen from the one-sided brawl, barely took in your figure. His brown eyes looked like they saw right through you, not even on eye level as he still did not walk straight, and it pissed you off.

Even breathing for air was painful, the sharp coldness of this barren, damned place wanting to cut into your lungs with each inhale as if taunting you, knowing that you rely on it now. Now, stuck in this forgotten land as the snow lies down on your shoulders. It's getting heavier and heavier, ringing in your ears as even they felt like falling off your head at any moment. They might as well. The biting wind, though gentle as it was, stealing any feeling you had in your bones.

Sniffing and swallowing your snot, you yanked at his arm again, swiftly turning around and trying to march after the fading footsteps as Thorfinn limped after.

The mere sound of crunching snapped the last strand of patience you so miraciously found within you and before the young man could completely slip again, he fell on his side instead as your fist collided with his face.

"You're a complete idiot!"

Thorfinn barely let out a sound. It made the fire within you rise.

"Askeladd was damn right! You're a moron! A godsforsaken fool! Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!"

You stomped your foot, akin to a child, and Thorfinn wondered why you did not let him feel your ire instead, as he gazed up at you through lidded, swollen eyes. Though he did shakily gasp as you bent down and grabbed ahold of his shirt, holding him up to your level.

"The hell do you think you're doing here?! Huh?! What the hell are you doing here?! Answer me!" You threw him to the ground just as quickly. "You have people here that want you back to a home and you are crawling back to damn Askeladd out of all people! Vile, disgusting, bastard Askeladd!"

Your pants grew louder and louder, hands on your head, as they quickly snapped from brainless inhales to a growling, longing shriek - an animal squealing in pain.

"Do you have any idea - no, 'course you don't! You're a stupid mutt! You never think, never had any brains up there, did you?!" Piles of snow were thrown left and right, partly falling on Thorfinn, on his beaten body and face. He flinched at the contact. You kept on screeching. "You always end up like this. On the ground. Like a dog!" Again, you kicked snow his way, "When you could be somewhere else, somewhere far away that isn't here!"

You snapped your arm back to a direction you believed York was, distressed glare still on your friend, "What the hell was this Leif person talking about?! Iceland?! Helga and Ylva?! They're your family, aren't they?! You have family, Thorfinn, family that is alive and well and in Iceland and they want you back! They love you, Thorfinn!" Retreating your arm, you brought your hands back to your head, pulling on your hair, pulling on the last strand of sanity this man left you. Though you desperately were scowling, you wanted to scowl, your eyes were only wide. Wide and big, distress shining in them as tears welled up in the corners. A choked sob escaped you.

"Anyone would jump up in joy hearing that their family is still alive but you didn't give a damn about what that man had to say. He said he'd wait for you. Maybe he's still there."

The screeching softened the more you talked, misty-eyed as you gazed at anything but him. Lamenting to yourself at this predicament he found himself in. Thorfinn's own eyes widened as best as they could as he managed to sit up. A breathy gasp escaped him. He's never seen you like this.

"Do you have," Sobbing, you wiped your nose, "Any idea how lucky you are to have people in this world...that want you?"

The breathy gasp morphed into sharp inhales, greedily gulping in the painful air as Thorfinn kept staring and staring at you, wide-eyed and afraid. He barely could breath.

"You could be there...but you're not. So answer me when I ask you what the hell you are doing here."

Something...something he reckoned to be akin to ringing wormed its way in his ears alongside your sobs. He saw you hiding your eyes as tears fell down your face - but he wasn't sure, the heavy snow and his lidded eyes made it difficult to truly see you. Thorfinn was not certain if he stooped this low that he had begun seeing things.

Tilting his head down to the snow - his neck couldn't find any strength anymore - he startled at the face his father's dagger reflected. Swollen and broken...dark and bruised, blood and snot oozing out of his bent nose with one of his eye hardly visible and of course, barely able to see with it anyway. Maybe it wasn't the trick of the weather but just his swollen face.

He had seen this face time and time again.

It whined and fussed whenever he looked at it, leaving him no choice but to see its pain and its borderline stupidity. The blood coated on the blade as it cut the guards.

The broken arm that almost earned worse by Thorkell's duel.

The stomach that churned whenever he trotted away like a corpse out of sheer hunger. Looking for anything he could gnaw between his teeth.

The hand that held the torch to the woman's demise. The hair she groomed was soaked in blood later, he recalled.

All that gruesome work...all the murders and the guts on the floor, the stolen goods and impaled heads...all those errands.

It was all this ugly face that he sees.

He sucked in air only to let them out in a wail. He wailed and wailed, louder and louder, his voice cracking as his tongue was tied and not able to form any words. He stared at you as you kept on sobbing.

Thorfinn's scream pierced through the heavy snow and the deafening silence. The cold, the snow, the dark, thunderous sky was nothing compared to this might, to this pathetic pain. It was louder than anything else you'd ever heard, both from the people you've killed and their pleas for mercy, and from the amount of grief he so sparingly shared with you, here and there.

Wiping your tears, you grimaced. Even through this wail that teared your heart apart, you could not help but think back on Askeladd. Oh, how wretched he'd feel this sight would be.

It hurt even more that you'd even agree.

It's Just Like A Lighthouse In Your Hands, Like A Little Flag Flapping In The Sands...

Misty-eyed, you looked down on the mutt wreathing in the snow. In his beaten state he could no longer look down at his dagger, could not form any words of remorse, imploration or grief. It was animalistic braying, as Askeladd described, howling at a moon that won't ever rise. You observed for some more, drying your face completely before falling onto your knees before Thorfinn.

His brown eyes struggled to follow your movements but that did not bother you. Watching him twitch and turn, you scooted closer and opened your arms. Arms that felt to heavy to share any burden.

Your limbs were slow, so woefully slow and heavy as they wrapped around his hunched body. Even as you gently and gingerly pressed him against you, Thorfinn continued to cry out, seeming to not have even noticed your gesture. He seemed to only gulp back for air when the side of his head was pressed against your chest.

This cringing feeling only grew worse at the rapid speed of his heart pounding against you. It was akin a bird's panicked flappings as it tried to misguidedly escape the cage it's been put in. However, you still tried to focus on the lightening aspects. How his gasps ceased and he himself tried to take deep breaths. Your hand found the crown of his head, stroking his grimy hair.

Thorfinn jumped. These calm breaths of yours tickled his head, leaving him shuddering. Gazing into the empty, barren snowscape he pondered if - maybe if, as long as he's not mistaken - you had ever done something so comforting to him before. He thought of it to be comforting at least. The familiarity of it all left him stumped as well as equally frightened. He did not know what to make of it.

Were you always like this? You have never...embraced him like this before. Was it because of him? Did he put a distance between you? Were you hesitant, perhaps reluctant to offer him soothing solace such as this? Thorfinn did not know and he did not remember.

Letting out a confused groan, he ever so tediously turned his head and gazed up to you. Chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you like an intriguied animal.

You cringed slightly at the face before you. No longer stroking his hair, you grabbed a fistful of snow and gently rubbed it against his dark blue cheek. Thorfinn did not resist but only let out a soft croak of pain. Still, his eyes never left you. "I'm sorry. I made the bruise worse." You spoke under your breath. The snow dissolved and fell apart, leaving only your reddened palm to cup and carress his face. You hoped it would soothe the injury.

Wordlessly, you continued to graze the bruises on his face with your cold hand in an attempt to lighten the pain. The blonde, as beaten and silent as he was, fluttered his eyes close whenever your fingers touched the swollen lumps nearby. He'd croak and sigh at the lightest of touches, leaning on you on his knees and face tilted up to look at you. Wiping the blood under his nose caused him to sneeze and you ripped a handful of your cloak off, offering for him to sneeze into it.

"One more time. The blood might dry and clump up your nose." He did so as told, clumps of snot and blood pulled out of his nostrills. He sniffed, inhaling the air. You threw the blood-soaked cloth away. Wiping your hand, your brought it back up to press his head against you, hesitant, but deciding to squeeze him ever so gently. Your face grimaced but you did not want to let him know.

It was almost on command. How he let his head turn around again, his ear leaning against your chest to listen to your heartbeat. His own pounded against his chest, calmly yet alone. Lonely and longingly. Aside from it, he was empty. So, so empty he would have loved nothing more than to just lean against you and sleep. Sleep forever.

"...C'mon, Thorfinn. Let's get ourselves somewhere warm." Obeying your command once again, he looked back up at you with big eyes, before lifitng himself up. You tucked a few loose strands of unruly hair behind his ears before slinging the good arm around your shoulder, with your face close to one another, you marched back to York.

A Floating Moon...You Still Croon?

He still leaned against you, that fool.

It nearly made you smile how he almost snuggled. Yet it was just as pathetic. Pathetic and ironic like the sun that decided to bless you the moment you found York again. The snow below you all but melted away by its rays and left nothing but filthy, grimy roads. You prefered it over the slippery ice.

The town was rather crowded. Carts filled with many goods pulled by healthy, decorated horses and men with respectable blades passed by. The meeting is soon to begin, you believed.

Still, it only made you more hesitant to ask for any help. Anyone you turn to could be some high and mighty ruler of a region or worse, their vessels and guards. The many swinging scabbards at their hips did not ease your anxiety.

The side of the road it was. Better behind some stables in the shadows and out of the sight of the many servants. Thorfinn looked worse for wear and a youngling like you would definitely not be welcomed with open arms. Oh, how awfully right you were.

With another person's weight on your side, you accidentaly bumped into another. Praying they'd simply scoff or ignore you, you immediately bowed your head and apologized once they argued with you.

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing? Bumping into me, eh? Causing an accident only to rob me from my goods, eh? I know that trick." One approached while you stepped back with Thorfinn in tow, head hanging low. You shake your head, trying to explain that it was indeed a mere accident-

"Don't pull that on me. Look at you, beaten and cold. You two must be poor beggars. C'mere, we know what to do with lot like you." As soon as you were cornered and one pulled his arm back for a punch, Thorfinn snapped his arm forward and shoved the man out of the way. He shrieked, alerting the others. "Hey, now-!" The second one grabbed your shoulder, however, he was swiftly kicked off, legs sweeped under his and falling into the manure below. Thorfinn let out something of an scoff despite his unreadable gaze.

Just as your friend was ready to bash the third man out of the trio, you made a run for it. There was no time to scold Thorfinn - you couldn't afford to earn the anger of some ruler's servant!

A mere barn was found and you snuck Thorfinn to the back behind a few bundles of hay. That certainly was close...but you didn't have the strength to berate him any more.

Instead, you tended to him some more, the best that you could as beggars. The man wasn't nearly wrong. Even now Thorfinn only let out a few hums at each action and touch, nodding meekly at each of your words. It was pitiful and equally heartbreaking.

Only to you though, it seemed.

You gently placed your hand to his forehead and sighed in relieve when not detecting a fever. It didn't appear that he had any symptoms either.

The blonde just leaned into your touch, tired.

You tucked a few unruly locks away. "I have to fetch something...I'll be right back." You snapped up only to be tugged down abruptly. Widened eyes looked down to find Thorfinn grabbing your wrist, stopping you and pulling you down. His swollen lips parted for air and eyes were still unreadable. Lying a hand on his, you tried to offer a smile, "I'll be right back, it won't take long. Just stay here and don't move from your spot."

The grip on your wrist was tight enough that you had to shake it off and leave before he could jump after you.

You missed the way his hand reached for your vanishing figure.

The port was even busier, making your heart race.

It was a mystery to you how you managed to find the short, unassuming man within the crowd of bellowing merchants and sailing boats but there he was, staring at you with wide, big eyes. He blinked a few times; Not quite certain if he should even be speaking to you - with that glare you were offering him.

"I don't know any details," You began, "But I have a request. I'll do what it takes for you to accept it." The man let out a nervous, brief chortle before taking a step forward. His hand scratched the back of his neck. The best he could was bear a crooked grin. "Now, hold on, little one. You, ah," He hesitated, blinked and took a breath, "I saw you with Thorfinn the other day. You are a friend of his, no?"

The man did not miss the way you avoided his gaze.

"And you are a relative of his, right? Uncle...Leif, it was?"

The merchant laughed and his nervous tone quickly shifted to a carefree one. It startled you yet that did not stop him from explaining his situation.

That was all nice and dandy...but you did not have time to listen to old tales.

"Listen, I know where he is. I'll take you to him but for that...you have to take him back to Iceland."

Leif could not deny that your request intriguided him. After all, just like Thorfinn you seemed to be a viking despite being his friend. He never had a viking ask him for a favour.

"I'll do whatever it takes to get him there. I'll personally drag him to your boat if I must, beat him black and blue and throw him into it." Again, Leif waved his hands and hoped his awkward laughter would ease the tension...and make you realize how dramatic your solutions were. It was not neccessary, he'd say, all that was needed was a good talk and listening to each other. To follow one's heart...and he's sure Thorfinn would choose the right answer.

That was enough for you to consider it a deal. Hurrying the older man, you were suddenly stopped as he tapped your shoulder. "I wanted to thank you, young one."

Raising a brow, it only made Leif grin.

"Thank you for being a friend to Thorfinn. He used to be such a sweet and hopeful kid...but now, he'd been through hell. I don't know all of the details but I am certain his life would have been more miserable if it weren't for you. Thank you for always staying by his side."

He continued to speak. You listened attentively, your eyes widened and fearing to tear up yet again at these kind words of this kind man.

Thorfinn could count himself lucky to have people who love him.

Listen To Me, Cleave Your Way Again, Again...

The floor was cold but thank the gods not as cold as the snow outside.

Lonely droplets of water fell down one after another and another and another; Like a melody to the puddle below. Thorfinn would have liked to thank to be alone right now. Alone and with not another soul as his company, as the trio of men chased after him and handed him over to the town's guards. With no resistance, he let himself be thrown into the dungeon.

But he could not find any gratitude in his empty heart to any gods right now.

You weren't back. You said you would be but when he looked up to the shadows hovering over him, he was met with three disgusting grins and not your smile. Bitter, bewitching, bland - it did not matter, he just needed to see your smile again.

You...held him. As if he deserved it.

You deserve to be looked for right now but he could not find any strength nor vigor to get up and escape, as easily as he was capable of it. All his head was filled of where questions on your whereabouts as his heart yearned for your presence.

A guard called out to him, speaking of an visitor. His first thought was you and how you returned to him. As best as he could, he crooked his neck and uttered your name.

Yet you weren't back still. There, sitting on the ground with the brightest smile he could muster was the man who used to tell him stories as a child. He prepared himself before he spoke. "Thorfinn. I've been told of an rowdy beggar being locked up. My gut feeling told me that might have been you, my boy."

Thorfinn sighed in disappointment and laid back down.

Leif licked his lips, taking a deep breath. "...You told me how you suffered for the past eleven years since we lost you, Thorfinn. You spoke of how I wouldn't understand, and I might not, and how...you couldn't find any peace within you as long as that man was still alive."

"...That...has nothing to do with you."

Nevertheless, the man persisted, believing it to be of concern to him. The fighting, the wars, the pain - and of how he swore it to himself to bring an end to it all by bringing him home.

A home filled with warmth and people. Of stories, some true and some silly, of food and water. Of no fear for your life and your future. A place where there was love.

"I swore an oath, you know? To myself and to Thors...that I would bring you back to Iceland. Bringing you back home where you belong, Thorfinn. That is the honor I want to uphold and the least I owe to Thors."

At the utter of his father's name, Thorfinn found the fortitude to sit up. Leif's grin was even more radiant than he remembered as a child. "So, Thorfinn...let us go back home. To Iceland!"

"Home...?"

Home...how tempting that word was. How it rolled off his tongue like stenching poison.

Home...after all this time? Why? Why would he, why should he?

Could he even?

"My boy, you said it yourself!" Leif scooted closer, his grin rivaling the sun, his eyes shining like a jewel. "So we can go to Vinland!"

Thorfinn could barely catch his breath, his empty chest that barely could hold his caving heart now rising. Rising, as he remembered the tale of old times.

A land far in the west, beyond the ocean...a land so warm and fruitful and so far away that no slave drives nor wars could reach it...

"Thors wished to go there, too...and I am sure - no, certain! Certain that if he was still alve, he would have loved nothing more than to travel to Vinland!"

Thorfinn hung his head. Was he...even allowed to hear such things, let alone do them? Take action?

"Home...and Vinland..."

Not being able to hold off his quivering smile, Leif dusted himself off as he got up on his feet. He walked slightly to the end of the bars. "And if you allowed it too, Thorfinn...I invited another companion to join us."

Now standing near the end, Leif opened his palm. Squinting his eyes, Thorfinn made out an hesitant, shaking hand peeking out from behind the wall and gingerly taking Leif's own outstretching one. He gladly wrapped his fingers around it, while the other shyly wrapped theirs around him, after a good while.

Following him, behind the wall your figure appeared - and the young blonde wasted no time to jump to his knees. You turned to him, looking down with a bittersweet smile. Thank the gods, he could see your smile that he so wished for.

Voice shaking with disbelief he called out your name.

"You gave me an heart attack."

My, did you tell him of how he did give you an heart attack when you returned to the spot with Leif and found him to be gone. Of how you told the man that he must be arrested and locked up, like the idiot that he was, and that he'd best be bribed free. Leif took the initiative and kindly asked you to wait.

Grey eyes glanced between the two of you and Leif let out a sigh of relieve, his hands on his hips. Even in this odd, ridicilous and hopeful situation that you wanted nothing more than to put your faith into, you approached the bars and looked down at your friend with the sweetest smile you could muster.

"After all this...could you take me to Vinland?"

Listen To Me, Sail Away Again, Again...A Misty Moon

I'm Missing You...

For the first time since today, you could feel the breeze.

No longer was it biting or howling but simply soothing.

This road, dirty and muddy and the chants of the people going their merry way felt like a dream.

Stepping inside Leif's humble, little boat felt like a dream.

The mention of other possibly kind merchants joining as Thorfinn held your hand - it was wonderful. Once he was out, he embraced you tight, not saying a word. He worsened his broken arm with the never-ending squeeze he gave you and definitely smeared snot and blood on your neck when he buried his head in there, but you did not dare to complain. Your arms wrapped around his body, silently grateful to have him back.

In this mess that you were and the mess that you are, you felt like the luckiest person alive. You, bewtiched by the bliss, did not complain as Thorfinn let go of your hand.

He was as quiet as a mouse, anyway. You let him ponder, you let him pout to himself. But what you could not let happen was him vanishing once again.

As he did on that snowy hill to fight Thorkell.

"Thorfinn!" Yours and Leif's scream aligning with a bird's shriek. The man just got this little boy back and now you were running off as well, searching for him. He thought he finally found Vinland. Finally could honor his own oath and quench this sadness in his heart.

It was all for nothing.

The searching, the bribing, the empty promises on his behalf...your fighting, your murders, tending his wounds and holding him in your heart. All for nothing.

Yells echoed within the meeting hall. You caught a glimpse of brown and yellow make a sharp turn for it. "Thorfinn!" Yet as men tried to flee the hall, you only struggled to get inside, hearing Thorfinn's screams for Askeladd.

He seemed to have gotten in as his figure vanished from your sight and you hardly could hear him. The yelling and screaming ceased - what had happened in there?

"Thorfinn! Thorfinn, come back! Please!"

Not a reply, not a bellow of utter agony either. It was only you, screeching out his name, screeching out to be let go as the many servants and guards dragged you out. Pulling on your cloak, pulling on your hair, your arms, your face.

"Thorfinn!"

You could not see beyond the crowd. It was eerie to not hear anything from him. Now you wished he hadn't been so quiet.

"...What...? You, are dying? You...?"

The men reckoned you to be a beggar, wondering what you are doing here. Breaking into the king's meeting.

"...Don't be so foolish...and stop this nonsense. I give you my life...but...what will you do with your life...after you've taken mine...?"

Your screaming only convinced them of your madness. A mere, hysterical beggar breaking into the king's murder.

"Thorfinn!"

"...Will you take your friend with you...? Or will you do as I did to Björn...you should go, Thorfinn. Go far, far away from here. Somewhere that isn't here..."

You shall be taken away. Hysterical but maybe useful.

"Damn it, come back! Go back to Iceland, Thorfinn! GO BACK TO ICELAND!"

Iceland is not a fruitful or promising land...you shall be useful somewhere else. Somewhere that isn't here.

"...Go, Son of Thors...become a true warrior..."

Do Good, To Be Good...Do Good, To Be Good...You're Not Alone...

For the first time today, you felt the agony that dwelled within your heart, boiling there, wating for this moment.

The faces of the people, the mud of the road pressed into your face, the cuffs on your hands. It was a true nightmare.

Ripped away from the second Thorfinn let go of your hand and did not return to you. You still missed his silhouette. It was gone the moment you were hauled out of the place and thrown into the sea.

Thorfinn did not even answer your cires.

No one would now to a slave.

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