Fighting, Honour and Valhalla || Vikings x The Originals x TVD

A Friend No More

As the feast began to die down, the raucous laughter and boisterous conversations slowly quieted, leaving behind a more subdued atmosphere. Thorfinn took a deep breath, glancing at Ragnar and the others before standing up. "I need to speak with the Mikaelsons," he said, his tone resolute. Ragnar gave him a nod of understanding, and Thorfinn made his way across the hall. The Mikaelson table was still lively, but the tension was palpable as he approached. Thorfinn made eye contact with Niklaus who smiled at his approach, the rest of the family though seemed rather apathetic or in Mikaels case downright hostile.

As Thorfinn approached the Mikaelson table, Niklaus stood up with a broad smile. "Thorfinn! It is good to see you, my friend," he said warmly, extending his hand. Kol gave a nod of acknowledgement, his eyes flickering with curiosity. Finn remained stoic, his gaze distant and unreadable. Mikael, however, sat motionless, his eyes boring into Thorfinn with a cold intensity. Thorfinn grasped Niklaus's hand firmly, a small smile on his lips. "Niklaus, Kol," he greeted them, then turned to include Finn and Mikael with a respectful nod, though the tension between him and Mikael was palpable.

"Why don't you take a seat, Thorfinn?" Mikael said in a cold voice, gesturing with a dagger he had been using to cut his meat. The tension in his tone was unmistakable, and Thorfinn felt the weight of Mikael's gaze as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

Thorfinn sat down, but his hand remained on the dagger at his belt, instincts screaming danger. Niklaus, oblivious or indifferent to the tension, sat next to him and shoved a drink in front of him. "Drink up, Thorfinn!" Niklaus said cheerfully. Thorfinn nodded slightly, eyes never leaving Mikael. Finn remained stoic, while Kol watched with mild interest. Mikael's cold gaze bore into him, and Thorfinn's grip tightened on his weapon, the air was thick with unspoken threats.

...

Mikael's eyes narrowed as he saw Thorfinn stand up and approach their table. Rage boiled within him, a fury so intense he almost flipped the table aside and snapped the boy's neck like a twig. Every fibre of his being demanded vengeance for the dishonour Thorfinn had brought upon his family. The sight of him walking so confidently, so boldly, stoked the fires of Mikael's hatred.

Yet, he held himself back. The impending civil war weighed on his mind. Thorfinn's close ties to Ragnar meant that any rash move against him would undoubtedly spark the battle before they were fully prepared. He couldn't afford such a misstep, not with so much at stake. Mikael didn't reach his position by being a mindless brute. He was ruthless, yes, but his cunning rivalled that of the trickster god, Loki. As Thorfinn drew nearer, Mikael's anger morphed into a cold, calculating resolve. A plan began to take shape, and he had to suppress the smile threatening to spread across his face.

"Why don't you take a seat, Thorfinn?" Mikael said in a cold, even voice, gesturing with a dagger he had used to cut his meat. The invitation was deceptively cordial, masking the malevolence behind his eyes. He watched Thorfinn sit, noting the boy's hand resting on his dagger. Good, let him feel the tension. Let him sense the danger.

Thorfinn took a deep drink from the mug Niklaus had shoved in front of him, feeling the liquid burn down his throat. Forcing a smile, he looked at Mikael. "It's good to see you again, Mikael," he said, his voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air.

Mikael's eyes remained cold and hard as Thorfinn spoke. Instead of replying, he grabbed his dagger and drove it into a thick piece of roasted meat on his plate. The blade sliced through the flesh with ease, juices spilling out and pooling on the wooden platter. With deliberate, almost menacing slowness, Mikael lifted the piece to his mouth, tearing into it with his teeth. The crunch of the charred skin and the squelch of the meat filled the silence, every bite increasing the tension.