Sword and Spice (Askeladd x OC)(Vinland Saga)

1. (Dec 1001) Drowning Bush

(Majority of chapters will be in 1st person. This first chapter is in 3rd.)

In the depths of the night, a sharp rap echoed against Thor's door, breaking the serenity of their evening. "Who could that be?" Helga mused, pausing her fire-tending duties. With their children nestled in bed and the chill of winter creeping in, the couple, clad in their evening attire, braced themselves for the intrusion.

"Perhaps Erik's embarked on another nocturnal revelry," Thors lamented, rising from his perch in the corner, where he meticulously arranged logs he'd brought in from their stock outside. With a seemingly nonchalant air, he approached the door, a gesture not unnoticed by Helga. The sound seemed too deliberate, too calculated for a mere friend's visit at this hour.

"Thors!" Ari's voice pierced the threshold as soon as the door creaked open, his hazel eyes harboring a gravity that clashed starkly with his usual levity.

Meeting Ari's intense gaze with equal seriousness, Thors asked, "What brings you here at this hour?" After all, Ari's presence at his door at this late hour hinted at a disturbance; he was entrusted with guard duty tonight, his second year at the young age of sixteen, suggesting an urgent matter demanded Thors attention.

"A boat was spotted off in the distance. It's headed directly toward us."

"How big?"

"Just a small boat. As far as we can tell, no occupancy, but that doesn't mean...well, you know." Ari's eyes shifted to Helga and sheepishly grinned in her direction, hoping he hadn't alarmed her. But Helga was all too keen to know what Ari meant.

They could be hiding on the boat. An ambush in the making.

"Go grab Erik. I'll head to the docks." Thors grabbed his dark cloak near the door, glancing at Helga. "Helga, stay with the kids."

"Of course," Helga affirmed as Thors left. Before the door closed, she called out, "Stay safe out there!"

As Thors trudged through the snow-laden land toward the quiet docks, his breath misting in the chilly winter air, his gaze fell upon a short figure sporting short brown locks and clad in a green thick tunic paired with oat-hued wool trousers. With arms folded, the man observed the approaching vessel with a demeanor of hardened anticipation, his breath visible in the frosty atmosphere.

"Leif, back sooner than anticipated! Tell me, when did you arrive?" Thors exclaimed, beckoning the attention of the shorter fellow, who turned with a genial grin, his mustache curling.

"Ah, Thors, ever the vigilant one. Yet, I've graced this port for a week now," Leif replied with a chuckle, relishing in Thors' widened eyes. Teasing Thors about his occasional obliviousness to small trifles was always a source of amusement for Leif.

However, Leif's countenance soured as his gaze shifted back to the boat. This wasn't the time for games. "Seems we've got an unexpected visitor approaching our shores."

Thors joined Leif, narrowing his eyes at the distant vessel. "No markings to hint at its origin."

"Indeed," Leif concurred, "and it's too cramped for more than a handful of men. Plus, the nearest port is days away. Unlikely it's a raiding party, unless there's a larger unseen vessel using this one for reconnaissance."

Examining the boat closely, Thors shook his head. "Doubtful. It's in shambles. No sane person, raider or not, would send out such a sorry craft." As it drew nearer, they noticed the haphazard repairs, with planks barely clinging to its sides.

It resembled a specter of the sea, albeit a diminutive one. More of a rowboat than a sailing boat.

Leif's eyes widened with understanding. "That's a voyage of desperation. Who would risk their life on such a vessel?"