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

The Man Who Feels Nothing

Thorfinn and Finn stood barely a meter apart, the tension between them heavy, crackling like a storm about to break. Finn was the only one of the Mikaelsons besides Mikael that Thorfinn hadn't seen fight, but the way he held himself, the sharpness in his eyes as they scanned every inch of Thorfinn, told him this man wasn't an amateur. Thorfinn wasn't eager to kill him. He didn't want to. Finn had done nothing to him before, but if Finn stood in his way, there was no avoiding it.

"For the sake of your sister, I'll give you one last chance to move," Thorfinn said in a low voice, his grip tightening on the leviathan's tooth. His eyes stayed locked on Finn's, searching for any sign of fear or hesitation.

But Finn's face remained as unreadable as stone. There was no flicker of emotion at the mention of Rebekah, no hint of worry or care. Several long moments passed, and finally, Finn spoke, his voice calm, unshaken. "I remain unmoved."

Thorfinn's eyes narrowed. So be it. Without another word, he thrust the leviathan's tooth forward, aiming to gut Finn cleanly and end this quickly. But to his surprise, Finn didn't flinch, didn't step aside. Instead, he dropped his shield, caught the tooth with his bare hand, and held it firm. A murmur of shock rippled through the crowd gathered around them. Thorfinn's frown deepened. Finn looked strong, sure, but no man should have been able to stop a blow like that so easily. Something about this wasn't natural.

"What are you?" Thorfinn growled, locking eyes with Finn. But all he saw was emptiness. Finn's gaze was hollow, his voice cold as he answered.

"Nothing."

With a sudden twist of his arm, Finn spun, pulling Thorfinn and the tooth with him. Before Thorfinn could react, Finn hurled him nearly twenty feet across the muddy clearing. Thorfinn hit the ground hard but managed to roll back to his feet, skidding along the wet earth, his teeth bared in frustration. Growling under his breath, Thorfinn charged forward, drawing his sword. This time, he didn't hesitate. He swung with deadly intent, meeting Finn's downward strike with a clash of steel that echoed through the clearing. The force of the blow rattled Thorfinn's arms, the strength behind Finn's attack far beyond what he'd expected. Who the hell was this man?

Thorfinn quickly disengaged, rolling to the side and striking at Finn's back. But Finn parried the blow with ease, spinning on his heel and aiming a low swing at Thorfinn's legs. Thorfinn jumped back, narrowly avoiding the strike, and thrust his sword forward again. Finn deflected it and followed up with an elbow to Thorfinn's face. The crack of bone was sickening as Thorfinn's nose broke, blood spilling down his lips. But he gritted his teeth, grabbed Finn's arm, and kicked at his knee, trying to drag him down. With a roll, he flipped Finn over his body and onto the ground, but before Thorfinn could land a killing blow, Finn was already on his feet, lunging forward with a wild overhead strike.

Thorfinn blocked the blow just in time, but the force of it sent him skidding back, his boots digging into the mud. Finn's strength was unreal, but it wasn't just brute power. He was fast—almost as fast as Thorfinn. They clashed again, swords swinging, ringing out through the camp. Thorfinn moved with speed, dodging and weaving between Finn's attacks, but every time he thought he had the upper hand, Finn would counter with something new. Thorfinn dodged another swing, grabbed Finn's wrist, and twisted, hoping to disarm him. But Finn simply caught the sword with his other hand and slammed his fist into Thorfinn's chest, sending him stumbling back with a grunt.

"What the hell are you?" Thorfinn muttered, barely catching his breath. He considered for a moment that Finn might be a werewolf, but it didn't seem right.

Finn slashed upward, and Thorfinn barely stepped back in time, however the blade grazed his shoulder and left a deep gash. Thorfinn gritted his teeth, the pain flaring through him. Finn didn't stop—he dropped his sword into his right hand and grabbed Thorfinn's wrist, stopping his counterattack cold before slashing his sword across Thorfinn's chest. Thorfinn roared in pain, blood soaking his tunic, but he didn't relent. Jumping off the ground, he sent both his feet into Finn's gut, knocking him back several feet and giving himself a brief moment to breathe.