In the mead hall!

A banging headache had never felt so unbearable as Tjorvi woke up with a deep grunt. His eyes had to adjust to the sunlight for a moment, but he could feel a gentle push against his shoulder.

“Tjorvi?” The sweet voice of Natasja Tryggdottir caused his eyes to open up wide as he stared at that beautiful woman, standing over him. 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 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. Clearly, she wasn’t bothered about finding him there, more so... She seemed happy to have recognized him.

“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. It was early in the morning, this could be his only chance to join the raiding parties, and frankly - he felt a bit nervous around Natasja. His hand reached down to pull his rusty axe from his belt, and with one smooth movement he stood up just to kneel down in front of the recently married woman. “And I wanted to offer you my axe. I want to join the raiding parties of your family next season, and make a name for myself. That is, if it would be allowed.”

There seemed to be visible confusion on the face of Natasja as it came very suddenly. 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 ruler never had to deal with anything like this before. Honestly, it didn't really seem like the decision would be up to her as well.

Her father turned out to agree with that.

“Why do you think we’d let a farmer come along on our raids, boy?” Erling Trygg spoke up with his bouldering voice, echoing throughout the quiet hall. There was such a big difference compared to the feast, and Tjorvi looked over at Jarl Erling. Together with the other Jarl, it seemed like he was getting ready for hunting as he was picking out some arrows.

“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 will talk to Bjor about it, okay?” She promised Tjorvi, making her father groan in an annoyed way. The blonde turned around and soon disappeared into the private quarters of the hall, but only after blessing the young farmer with a peek of her perfectly rounded ass underneath that short dress.

“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, dismissing the discussion. 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.

TO BE CONTINUED: To England!