Bliss (Thorfinn x Fem Reader)

Chapter 6

"W-what?" I still felt faint and could barely grasp what he had said.

"A Viking killed your father." The look on Thorfinn's face was one of remembrance- vistas of vengeance cut deep in his sard eyes. I could tell-- he didn't know how to comfort me.

Ah, I can feel it—Tears streaming down my face like strings of pearls. Though I couldn't feel the pain, my body reacted violently. Eyes shucked open, cheeks wet, mouth trembling. I felt I was dying.

He held me silently for a while, eyes darting to my ever-damp cheeks as he walked.

Finally, he stopped at a clearing. The forest caught my eye, laced with lindens, firs, and spruce, but the true beauty lay with the cataract. Infinitely flowing over smoothed boulders; the rushing water glowing in the moonlight. Further down, an offshoot of the waterfall collected into a pool, perfect for bathing. In all my life on this mountain, I had never found such an enchanting place. I felt the urge to jump in, like a frog into water.

Thorfinn's arms finally gave way; gently lowering me onto the soft grass, which enveloped me like the thick bear furs I covered myself with, in the winters. The tears dripping from my chin had softened a little, perhaps because of the glade's soothing nature.

He removed his coat with much effort. The full effects of the battle could finally be seen, and the wounds in which he endured for my sake had come into the moonlight's watchful gaze. The blood made me shiver.

"Cold?" Thorfinn threw the coat at my feet. As I put it on, I felt the warmth of his body radiating through the fur--it was a comforting feeling.

After he had made a fire, Thorfinn sat down, his wounds done over like a frozen lake.

"Are you okay?" He avoided my eyes. Those eyes were my only source of comfort. 

Without warning, I flung myself into his arms, my tear-stained cheeks pressing hard against his muscular chest. I felt a large hand on my back. It only made me cry harder for my father's eternal absence. 

He only whispered to himself whilst stroking the nape of my neck; reminiscent of how father used to soothe me.

"You know...my father is dead too." Now I understood the look in his eye; forced to watch solemnly as someone else experiences your tragedy.

"I'm sorry, how did he pass?" My voice creaked like floorboards but was lit with curiosity.

"He was killed in battle long ago, and I have yet to restore his honor by finishing off the culprit." 

"You plan to kill his culprit?" Obviously, he would; he's a Viking after all.

"Well of course! Wouldn't you kill your father's culprit if you could?"

I went silent for a moment.

"How... did my father die?"

"Well, he came running for you when he heard the commotion. And a Viking killed him; So I killed that bastard."

Again, the tears flowed. He held me in a tight embrace, making up for his blunt explanation. Soon enough, his arms lulled me into slumber. But the blonde didn't sleep.

                                                                   ...

When I awoke, Thorfinn still held me close, with his head slumped over me; finally getting some rest in the early morning light. Since I couldn't find it in me to disrupt him, I slithered out of his grasp and replaced my body with his coat. He didn't seem to notice, only stirring slightly.

Now, what to do about my dress? That old Viking had slashed it up, leaving almost the entirety of my torso exposed; the linen's tear growing larger with my every movement. Well, my body is caked in grime anyway, so I might as well take a bath in the river spring.

After successfully scavenging for lemon balm to scrub my body with, I removed my nightgown and slipped into the water. It was lukewarm and faintly smelled of the surrounding flora.

"[Y/N]..?" It was Thorfinn, still groggy from sleep. As soon as his amber eyes met mine, he turned around and sat at the edge of the pool. What a gentleman.

"Here, you can wear this." He undid the laces of his tunic and set it aside. As he shifted around and began to sharpen his knives, Thorfinn's bulging muscles flexed with ease. His body was beautiful, with flecks of white and pink grazing his tawny skin, even down to his hands.

I slowly detangled the miasma of hair floating around me in the water and hopped out; sitting beside him. But as I lifted my hand for the tunic--

Thorfinn had already begun wiping my back with it, gently lifting my arms to soak up excess water.

"I-I can do it myself, you know." He only grunted and snatched the lemon balm from my hand, using it to scrub my arms and back, where the blood had crusted and was stubborn to come off. 

"Thank you..." I said feebly, fumbling with my slick hair. He nodded and gave me back the tunic; the emerald green color faint from extended wear. Thorfinn began carving a stick as I put it on, a sharp glance darting to my hair every so often.

"Um, what's that for?"

"It's a hair stick. You can put up your hair with it."

"Well, I don't really know how to-"

"Here, let me show you." Thorfinn then grabbed a fistful of his flaxen hair, twisted it tightly to form a small bun, and jabbed it with the stick. It stayed securely in place! After squishing it experimentally to make sure it was sturdy, he beamed brightly--dichotomous from his perpetual frown. I couldn't help but smile with him. 

"How did you know about these 'hair sticks' in the first place?"

"My mother had one, and I made her do up my hair when I was younger." His effervescent smile was intoxicating! I could imagine a younger Thorfinn running about with his hair up, giggling non-stop. The thought of it only made me smile more. 

"Oh, Thorfinn where are you from?"

"...Iceland."