It gets easier

Chapter 1 / You should get married

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It was winter in Iceland, the harshest time of year. Not that there was an especially easy time to live in Iceland, but this was worse. The children always enjoyed the winter time—as long as they didn't freeze or starve to death—because there was snow to play in, and even the adults did enjoy the beautiful scenery, even with the worry always in the back of their minds.

Thorfinn vaguely remembered conversations he had listened in on as a child, conversations between his father and mother, and sometimes Leif. They had talked about families dying in parts of the country and how they were also worried about him and Ylva.

His father had wanted to take them to a better place; Thorfinn knew that, but he never got the chance.

His father had left one morning, and Thorfinn had left with him, stowed away in a barrel. He didn't even say goodbye to anyone. It took Thorfinn 11 long years to come home, but Thors never did. Thors died standing, mighty as he was, on his warship, surrounded by two cliff walls, wreckage from a pillaged village, and two ships of wounded Vikings.

While Thorfinn was gone, spending time doing something he would later come to regret dearly, Ylva took on the role that should have been his as the firstborn son. Because of that, Ylva didn't hesitate to chastise him and throw the burdens she had been carrying onto his shoulder when he returned at the age of seventeen.

He knew nothing about how to take care of others, but he had learned; they had taught him, and now it was something he did happily, not only to care for the family he had left behind, though he was unfortunately well aware that it was also an easy way to try and forget.

He worked in the blacksmith's shop, using his strength to be productive instead of destructive—just as he now knew that his father had—and he took care of his mother and helped Ylva with her children as well.

Still, in spite of how much he did, there was one thing that Ylva would never let go of, despite how much it bothered her younger brother.

"You should get married."

It wasn't like Thorfinn was opposed to getting married some day. Finding a wife, having children, and growing old. Living in peace with a loving family. It sounded nice, but he wasn't sure it was something he wanted for himself just yet.

He couldn't give his sister a very good reason for why he didn't want to. She thought he had had more than enough time to settle into a normal way of living, but he simply didn't feel ready to give someone so much of himself, and he also couldn't truly make himself believe that he deserved it.

Ylva would just say he had commitment issues.

Though he should count himself lucky, it seemed that Ylva was busy too. Too busy to bother him about it every day. It had actually been a few weeks since she had brought it up, and he thought that she had begun to understand his choice.

That was until the day Leif returned to Iceland.

Thorfinn was shoveling snow outside the house, making an easy path for his family to enter and exit. His breath came out as a visible cloud, and he really wanted nothing more than to be inside with his mother and sister, enjoying some leftover mutton stew from last night.

Then, before that wish had completely left his mind, a couple of children ran by, laughing and talking loudly. Behind them, they were dragging a small sled, but instead of a third child sitting on it, getting dragged along, the sled was stacked with jars and furs of many varieties. He recognized at least two as seals and brown bears. They didn't have any brown bears in Iceland. All of the bears in Iceland were as white as the snow.

"Aaju, Minik, what do you have there?" Thorfinn called out to them. They were his second-oldest nephew's playmates, so he knew them by name. He put the shovel firmly in the snow and stepped closer to them.

"Our mom said to get this from Leif. It's food, I think."

"Old man Leif is back?" Thorfinn asked, a hint of excitement that he rarely showed leaking into his voice.

"Mm-hm," Minik nodded, brown curly hair flying over his face, red from the freezing cold.

"I see. Thank you for telling me that." Thorfinn smiled. It had been a while since Leif had come to Iceland, but still, it was earlier than Thorfinn had thought it would be. Months earlier, in fact.

"You're welcome!"

"Bye"

He always enjoyed seeing Leif. He owed the man a great debt. Not only had he been kind to him in a time when he least deserved that kind of kindness, but he was the one who had saved him from a life of persistent violence and pain.

Leif was his friend, just as he had been his father's friend.

He kicked his boots, shaking off the snow stuck to them. He placed the shovel near the wall and entered his home. Inside were his mother, Helga, and his older sister, Ylva. His nieces, nephews, and brother-in-law were all out of the house, playing or working, and working meant, in Ari's and Thorfinn's oldest nephew's case, hunting.

"Are you done, Thorfinn?" Ylva asked, looking up from her weaving. Her hands were rough, and her knuckles were always red from the hard work she put in around the house and village, but her tapestries were always beautiful.

"Almost," he answered her, shaking his head. "But Leif is here, so I'll go greet him, and then I'll come back to finish."

"Finish this now and go see Leif after."

"No, just go ahead, Thorfinn; there is no rush to finish this now." Helga stood up, her shawl drawn around her shoulders. She was always so kind and understanding, and Thorfinn loved her so much for it. He often wondered how he could have gone 11 years without her.

"You're being too easy on him again."

"It's not so important, Ylva."

"It won't be long; it's just to welcome him back and see how he is doing," Thorfinn explained to his sister. She had completely abandoned her tapestry in favor of looking at Thorfinn with both hands on her hips.

Thorfinn gave her an unimpressed look; she was far too strict sometimes.

Thorfinn did leave; he left with nothing but his coat and boots, hurrying to the harbor.

Ylva sat herself on a chair after her younger brother had left the house and grumbled about something coming sooner than she had hoped.

Helga watched her eldest with a curious glance.


—————


"Leif!"

The old man looked up; his face had aged with time, but Thorfinn would always remember him clearly from his childhood. His smile and mustache were still the same, but he felt like there was a new wrinkle every time he saw the man.

"Thorfinn," he smiled brightly as he hurried over to the young man to greet him. "Oh, it is good to see you, my boy."

"You too, you look well."

"As long as I sail, I will always be well."

Thorfinn chuckled at that. Yes, he was certain that what Leif said was true, and so Thorfinn hoped he would never have to give up sailing.

"And how are you?" Leif asked him, though there was something off about his smile and the way that he ashes it, like he expected a specific answer.

"I am... well."

The old man let out a hearty laugh and lifted a hand to pat Thorfinn's stiff shoulder. He really wasn't sure he had said anything funny.

"You are nervous, I can tell."

"You...can?"

"Yes, I can," he nodded, confirming that, and laughed a little more when Thorfinn looked surprised. But more than anything, Thorfinn was just confused. Leif then quickly sobbed up and looked at Thorfinn proudly. "It's a big step, and it's alright to be nervous, but just know that I am proud of you. You've come such a long way."

Thorfinn knew that the last part referred to how he had found him in York. He was so angry and unwilling to be helped, but Leif persisted. He would never forget how he had held onto him so tightly when he found him, and looking back at it, Thorfinn was so happy that he did.

He was so grateful for Leif's patience and kindness, but...

He really didn't know what he was talking about now.

"Leif, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what you're talking about." Thorfinn said this and scratched the back of his head. He wasn't sure Leif heard him; he had turned around and was already halfway back to his ship.

"What was that, Thorfinn? Come over here; I have something for you." Leif encouraged him to follow, and Thorfinn did.

"Uh, what I said was—"

"Hey Thorfinn!"

Thorfinn turned and saw Leif's adopted son, Bug Eyes, wave to him, carrying a bag over his shoulder. Leif had adopted him during his search for him, and his name was actually Thorfinn. It was a funny coincidence, and the two men got along well.

"Hey Bug eyes, good to see you," he smiled, but then his attention was dragged back to Leif, and Big Eyes walked onto shore to show something off to other men and women gathering to see what Leif had brought them this time.

"Look here," Leif groaned as he hoisted up a sack of something onto a crate that stood between them. It clattered, like metal against metal, and Thorfinn wondered what Leif had for him and how much he expected him to pay for it. The first thing he pulled out, however, was not tools of any kind; it was another smaller bag, and it was filled with wheat flour.

"Oh..." Thorfinn's eyes widened, and he leaned a little closer. Wheat flour, which would make delicious bread, was rare to get in places like Iceland, where it was too cold and the days were too short for half of the year. They did grow a little during the warmest time of year, but it was not enough for everyone on their icy rock to share. The flour Leif was holding could at least make ten loaves of bread.

Leif pulled a few other things out of the bag. Knives, shears, a pan—definitely what had made the metallic sound—and a roll of beautiful red fabric to be sown into whatever Thorfinn's mother or sister wished.

"Take it," Leif encouraged the young man, packing it all back up in the sack and then trying to hand it over to Thorfinn, but Thorfinn only took a step away from it.

"Take it? I can't just take this, Leif."

"Why not? It's a gift, Thorfinn, as per tradition."

"Tradition?" Thorfinn asked and was then reminded of his confusion. "Can you tell me what this is about?"

For the first time that day, Leif looked a little confused himself, like whatever it was that he meant should be obvious.

"It's about your engagement, of course."

Thorfinn blinked. He really hoped that didn't mean what he thought he did.

"My what?"

"Your engagement. To be married to Gudrid"

Gudrid was not a name he recognized. He had never heard about her, but he didn't even have the time to question who she was; all he could think was: What engagements? He had heard nothing of it.

Who could...

Oh.

Thorfinn opened his mouth, feeling frustration bubble up inside of him, but he quickly closed his mouth again. It wouldn't be right to yell at Leif, so he kept his frustration inside. Thorfinn was sure he didn't know that Thorfinn didn't know anything about this engagement. He still looked at Thorfinn so innocently and so confused.

"Leif... keep this for now; I need to take care of something quick." Thorfinn sighed, motioning to the sack that continued to lie between them. It made sense now that it was a gift of good will and a strong marriage alliance. He wasn't sure Leif had a daughter, but he had to be some kind of family to this Gudrid that he mentioned.

"What? What is it?"

"I need to speak with Ylva."