Approach the newly-weds.

Tjorvi decided that he should get right to the point. He had traveled all the way to Yogsta so he could swear an oath to the newly-weds and their fathers. Promise his loyalty to this new alliance and get a spot in one of their raiding parties. He wanted nothing more than to explore new lands, just like so many Scandinavian legends had been doing before him. He didn’t want to get distracted from that goal, and so he started making his way across the large hall. Pushing through a group of Vikings who had gathered around a barrel of mead, while sliding down the hood of his cloak to reveal his long reddish hair.

The young man ended up right in front of the thrones, his head up high as he looked in the direction of Natasja and Bjor. While the two older men were the Jarls of the two villages, Tjorvi heard that it would be Bjor who’d lead the raiding parties to England. His mouth opened as he wanted to speak up, still unclear of what words he was going to use. Everything depended on this.

“…”

“Tjorvi?” The sweet voice of Natasja Tryggdottir was faster than his own. She had really grown into a fine woman, but some things didn’t change. Her voice was one of those things – while it had obviously matured, it still had that same sweet ring to it. The kindness was clear, and she was known for it as well. It had already given her some sort of resistance actually, from Vikings who didn’t believe such a woman could rule over a town bigger than the huts and farms of her birthplace. Even with Bjor by her side, there were some people who’d rather have a shieldmaiden on that throne. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here! Welcome.” The blonde smiled widely as she greeted Tjorvi.

“I – It’s great to see you as well, Natasja. I wanted to congratulate you, in name of myself and my family.” Tjorvi spoke up, hoping his voice would sound firm and deep even though it was a little shaky. His hand reached down to pull his rusty axe from his belt, and with one smooth movement he had knelt down in front of the recently married couple. “And I wanted to offer you my axe. I want to join your raiding parties next season, and make a name for myself. That is, if you would allow it.”

There seemed to be visible confusion on the faces of Natasja and Bjor. Sure, there were plenty of men who were looking for adventure and fame. However, a lot of farmers decided to stay to their own craft, and the young rulers never had to deal with anything like this before.

“Why do you think we’d let a farmer come along on our raids, boy?” Erling Trygg spoke up with his bouldering voice, causing the entire hall to go silent.

“Father!” Natasja spoke up as she looked to the side, but there was some truth in the older jarl’s words. They had plenty of Vikings, and they didn’t need an extra axe, especially if that axe was rusty like that.

“The boy has guts, my Jarl.” A familiar voice was heard right behind Tjorvi. A growling voice, and the farmer’s boy could still remember that breath from earlier. He glanced back at the large giant that had tried to intimidate him earlier, and apparently standing up to him made the Viking have some kind of respect for him. “He won’t take much space on the ships, we don’t lose anything by taking him with us. If he dies during the raids, then so be it.” The giant continued, his words being less admiring but it did put Erling into thoughts.

“Very well, then. I’m not the one deciding who gets to Valhalla, in the end.” The old man waved in the direction of the kneeling man in front of him, telling him to stand up. Clearly, the giant was quite respected around these parts, as his vouching had convinced the jarls that Tjorvi had the guts to be useful during the raids. Or at least, just be an extra axe to die on the battlefield for the benefit of themselves.

Tjorvi didn’t have the chance to turn around and thank him, as he felt his hand being grabbed. Natasja had come down from her throne and tugged him in the direction of some curtains made out of sheepskin. “Come on, let’s get somewhere quiet. We have so much to talk about!” The Viking Princess giggled cutely, and for a moment Tjorvi couldn’t help but get very excited until he heard the footsteps of a third party right behind him. Bjor was following them. Of course, Bjor was following them, surely he wouldn’t want to miss his beautiful wife on the night of their wedding…

The young warrior was led into the back quarters of the large hall, the vague noises of the feast could still be heard as there were just some furs hanging to separate the large hall from the private quarters. The floor was covered in some kind of carpet as well, and Natasja had been quick to disregard her footwear. She trailed over to the other side of the room and grabbed a trio of cups from the table there. While the two boys settled down on the chairs, they were blessed by the sight of the Viking Princess’ round ass peeking from under her short dress. Maybe Tjorvi was imagining things, but he could swear she was swaying her ass left to right, ever so slightly. As if to arouse him…

Surely that wouldn’t be the case. Maybe she was just trying to seduce her husband, but why would she have invited him back there then?

Before he could ponder too long on those questions, and probably some wishful thinking, Natasja had turned around and started making her way over towards the two boys. Her husband, the mighty Bjor Tofisson, and the farmer’s son, Tjorvi Eldgrim. Two completely different men, yet very similar at the same time. Both of them were out there looking for their own fame and honor, and both of them were very attractive. Bjor had been fighting for years and Tjorvi had been working on the fields for an even longer time. It had resulted in two powerful men sitting in front of her, as she brought them cups of mead which she pushed into their hands.

“So, Tjorvi… How’s your father doing? It has been a while since I visited him, for which I am truly sorry.” The blonde spoke up, that adorable smile remaining on her gorgeous face as she settled down in her husband’s lap. Her juicy ass pressed right against his crotch but those deep blue eyes were glued to the other man.

“He is.. well. He’s getting old.” Tjorvi spoke up. Despite being a peasant, his father was quite respected around Jokulsa. However, Tjorvi wasn’t planning on living such a life. He didn’t want to grow old on the farm and miss his chance on heading to Valhalla, with no name to it. Sure, there was something respectable about feeding an entire village but that completely vanished compared to the stories of Ragnar Lothbrok, his sons, and every other legend which came from the north.

Taking a sip of his mead, he looked over at the married couple. Natasja’s hips were slowly rocking back and forth, rubbing herself against Bjor’s crotch as his hands were holding onto her waist. “And he’s not too happy about what fate has in store for me. He’ll manage, there are plenty of people ready to help him out with everything he needs.” Tjorvi continued talking, watching how the Jarl’s son had leaned down to kiss the neck of that beautiful woman. A soft moan had escaped her lips, and the young soon-to-be warrior heard himself clearing his throat.

“I think it’s admirable for you to come here and claim your piece of glory. You’re most welcome on my ships, that’s for sure.” The deep voice of Bjor stated a very welcome compliment in return, but Tjorvi’s eyes were focused on his lovely wife. Those curves, held by the strong arms of the warrior. Cleavage almost spilling out of her dress in this position, soft breathing filling up the room. “But now, there are marital duties to be dealt with.” A grin came from Bjor as he suddenly stood up from the chair, and lifted the beautiful Natasja along with him. Carrying her over to another piece of fabric serving as a curtain, very clearly leading to their bedroom..

Before they had completely disappeared out of sight, Natasja was put down to her feet. Inaudible whispers made Tjorvi wonder why they were taking so long – he wouldn’t hesitate for a moment if he would have Natasja all to himself – but then she turned around. She looked as gorgeous as ever in the dimmed light of the candles, leaning against the doorframe. Her nipples were clearly poking through the thin fabric of her dress as she looked Tjorvi right in the eyes.

“Why don’t you join us, farmer?”