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, 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.

“I don't like him, my Jarl. I think he won't last a second on the battlefield. Maybe he won't even make it to England, and then we'll have to deal with his rotten corpse unless we throw him in the ocean.” 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, who still seemed to remember the insults. “But I think any warrior deserves a chance to prove himself. Therefore, I think he should fight me in a duel. If he can keep up, then he's worthy. If not, then he returns to the farm of his father and stays there for the rest of his honorless life." The giant continued, seeming to get even cruder with his words as he stared down at Tjorvi. It was clear that everyone thought it was a good idea, and most Vikings just wanted to see the fight between the gigantic warrior and the newcomer, and they were just waiting for an answer...