Foreign love - Thorfinn x Reader

06

Rin ily😪😪😪
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When I woke up, Askeladd wasn't in his bed anymore. That wasn't unusual—he was always moving, always one step ahead of everyone else. Still, it felt strange not to see him there.

But today was different. There was something in the air, a strange feeling I couldn't quite place. For once, it wasn't bad. It was light, almost hopeful. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt that way. It was refreshing, like the first cool breeze after a storm.

I stretched and stood, my legs still heavy with sleep, and waddled outside. The moment I stepped out, the feeling vanished.

I froze. My breath caught in my throat, and I couldn't move.

Bodies. Everywhere.

They hung from the trees like grotesque fruit, their faces pale, their necks twisted unnaturally by the ropes. The stench of death filled the air, thick and suffocating. Some of Askeladd's men were laughing and joking as they tossed the corpses onto a pile like firewood, their laughter cutting through the silence like a blade.

"What..." I whispered, my voice trembling. My legs felt weak, but I forced myself to keep walking. The world seemed smaller, darker, with each step I took.

Everywhere I looked, Askeladd's men were causing chaos. Some were rummaging through the belongings of the dead, others were drinking and shouting, their voices ringing out with a cruel glee.

I hated them. I didn't know why, but I couldn't stand them. They were rough, loud, and reckless. They were nothing like Askeladd—there was no sharpness, no purpose in their actions, just selfish cruelty.

As I walked further, the noise began to fade. The men grew quieter, their rowdy laughter giving way to murmurs. Curious, I looked around. That's when I saw them.

Askeladd was standing with Björn. They were talking quietly, their expressions calm as if nothing had happened. But next to them was someone else—the blonde boy from before.

My stomach twisted when I saw the sword in his hand. Why did he have it? What was he doing here?

I couldn't hear what they were saying. The wind carried their words away, leaving me with only the uneasy thud of my own heartbeat in my ears. I wanted to move closer, to understand what was happening, but something stopped me.

Suddenly, the boy ran toward Askeladd, his small frame determined but trembling. His sword gleamed in the pale light as he charged.

"No," I whispered, my body frozen in place.

The boy swung, but his blade missed its mark. Instead, it lodged itself in the hard ground beneath him. He tugged at it desperately, his face a mix of panic and frustration. Askeladd didn't flinch. He stood there, watching the boy with an unreadable expression.

And then, with a swift motion, Askeladd kicked him.

The boy crumpled to the ground. His small, frail body lay still, motionless.

My heart pounded in my chest. Was he... was he dead?

I stared, unable to look away. The world around me felt cold and distant. Askeladd didn't look back at me or anyone else. He simply stood there, his shadow long against the bloodstained earth, as if nothing at all had happened.

I walked briskly, almost running, my feet crunching against the uneven ground as I made my way toward a hill that stood a little taller than the rest of the landscape. It wasn't much, but it felt like a challenge—something to conquer, something to take my mind off everything else.