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

Visions

Thorfinn held Arwyn tightly, her body pressed against his. Her skin was caked in blood and earth, but none of it mattered to him. He stroked her hair, his rough fingers carefully brushing through the tangled strands, offering her the comfort she so desperately needed. The warmth of his embrace seemed to steady her, calming the storm that had been raging within her since his absence. His voice was soft but firm, reassuring her as he whispered, "I'm here."

Despite her nakedness being on view to everyone, Arwyn clung to him with all her strength. She hadn't realized just how much she had needed him until this moment, after weeks of nightmares and doubt. Thorfinn's presence was the only thing grounding her now. He kissed her forehead gently, his other hand still resting on the back of her head.

"Where are the rest of you?" Ragnar's voice interrupted.

Thorfinn turned to see Ragnar pushing himself up with Rollo's help, his face bloodied and bruised from the fight. "Those damn fuckers killed them," Rollo spat into the dirt.

Ragnar looked around at the small group that remained. "How did you escape?" he asked.

The men turned their gaze toward Arwyn, who was still wrapped in Thorfinn's arms. She finally released her hold on him, stepping back slightly but still leaning into his touch. Thorfinn's hand rested protectively on her shoulder as Rollo spoke up.

"It was Arwyn. She saved us."

*Flashback*

The forest was a nightmarish battlefield filled with the sounds of snarls, screams, and the tearing of flesh. The men were in disarray, their numbers dwindling with every passing moment. Blood stained the ground, and the bodies of the dead littered the clearing. Floki's voice cut through the noise. "We're going to die here. All of us."

A massive werewolf, its fur matted with the blood of its victims, spotted their small group and began to charge. Its eyes gleamed with hunger as it bore down on them, moving with terrifying speed. Rollo stepped forward, his axe gripped tightly in his trembling hands. Fear coursed through him, but it was overshadowed by his rage—rage for the friends these beasts had slaughtered, rage for the helplessness he felt in the face of such monsters. He roared back, his voice a battle cry of defiance as he braced himself for the inevitable clash.

Just before the werewolf reached him, it was slammed to the side by a blur of movement. Arwyn, in her werewolf form, crashed into the creature with all the fury she had held inside. Her jaws clamped down on its neck with bone-shattering force, snapping its spine with a sickening crunch. The werewolf's body went limp, and Arwyn stood over it, her chest heaving, blood dripping from her fangs. The men stood frozen in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief. None of them had ever known she was like them, like the Ulfhednar, she had been among them for months and she had kept such a secret. Her transformation had taken them by surprise, and even Rollo found himself shocked. Floki took a cautious step back, his mouth agape as he stared at her.

Before any of them could react, more werewolves emerged from the trees after finishing off their friends. The men who had fled earlier were now lying dead, their bodies torn apart by the pack. Arwyn let out a deafening roar, one that shook the trees around them, and charged at the approaching wolves. The clash was brutal. Arwyn fought with fiercely, but she was outnumbered. Two of the werewolves leaped at her, their claws slashing into her flesh, tearing at her sides and legs. Blood sprayed across the forest floor as they bit down on her, their fangs sinking into her shoulders and arms. Arwyn let out a snarl of pain but didn't falter.

"Go help her, you bloody cowards!" Floki's voice rang out, sharp with anger and desperation. "Or we all die!"

The men snapped out of their stupor, rallying behind Floki's words. With a battle cry, Rollo charged forward, his axe raised high. He slammed it into the side of one of the werewolves that had its jaws locked on Arwyn's shoulder. The beast let out a howl of pain, releasing her and stumbling back. Arne and Torsten joined the fray, stabbing at the second werewolf with their spears, driving it away from Arwyn long enough for her to recover. Blood dripped from Arwyn's wounds, but her eyes were filled with a cold fury. She lunged at the remaining werewolves, her claws slashing through fur and muscle. The men fought beside her, hacking and stabbing at the beasts, working together to overwhelm them.