Chapter Text
Winter was melting away and spring had approached. It had been long, cruel war between the Viking and the Danes. King Sweyn understood that Askeladd, Thorkell and their men were impossible to defeat. And if the Danish King chooses to expand his territory and wage war against the English, he'll need all the possible allies. So, he offered them what they desired; riches, land of their own and a royal status to their name. This came surprising to the Viking lords; they expected another four years of war. And they certainly did not expect the Danish king to send in treaty so soon. In the make shift tent they called headquarters, Askeladd, Thorkell and Bjorn stared down at the letter on the table.
While Askeladd remained silent, Bjorn rubbed at his whiskers.
“It’s not a bad deal chief.”
Thorkell took a swig from his horn and burped. Surprisingly for a drunken man his sentences were very well put together.
“He said that in order for the peace treaty to work, he wants one of our kids to marry the second heir of the Danish king."
Bjorn stated the obvious.
“None of us have kids.”
Askeladd did a fact check.
“Thorkell don’t you have a son? Or was it a daughter?”
Thorkell shrugged.
“A daughter. But my wife ran off with the child to who knows where.”
Ideas formed in Askeladd's calculative mind.
“How about Thorfinn?”
The tallest man cocked his brow.
“My great nephew?”
Askeladd threw him a quick look.
“How old is he?”
Scratching his reddened nose, Thorkell barely did the numbers.
“I reckon 19.”
Askeladd nodded in approval.
“He’s passed the marriageable age. I heard the second heir is 19 as well. It’s a good match.”
He then added.
“How come you didn’t find suitable bride for the lad sooner?”
The taller shrugged and corked his ale.
“Didn’t know I even had a great nephew. And that boy was too busy going around trying to kill you. Marriage was probably far from his mind."
Grabbing the parchment, there was huge arse eating grin on Askeladd’s face. No doubt he was plotting.
“That settles it then. THORFINN THE PRINCE OF THE JOMSVIKINGS, will be in engaged to the second heir of the Danish King!”
Thorkell nearly choked.
“ Whaddya just called Thorfinn?”
Even Bjorn was taken back by the sudden title which was bestowed upon Thorfinn. The feather pen glided on the surface of the crispy parchment as Askeladd hummed mostly to himself.
“The Danish king offered a princess; we need to at least offer our best to show that we give a damn about this treaty. Thorfinn is son of Thors Snorresson, the Troll of Jom . And Thorfinn’s mum, Helga, is daughter of Sigvaldi, the commander of Jomsvikings. Not to mention, Thorfinn IS your great nephew. That’s good enough qualifications as being a Prince. Now that I have said it out loud, our lad here has a good pedigree.”
Bjorn never doubted Askeladd, but image of flea covered Thorfinn pissing on a tree stomp was so vivid that it was hard to believe in his chief’s words. While Bjorn kept his opinion to himself, the jolly, giant Vikings was practically hoping on his feet.
“My great nephew! Marrying the Danish princess, HA!! ”
Slapping his knee, Thorkell ran toward the mouth of the tent.
“I MUST SHARE THIS WONDERFUL NEWS TO FINNY!”
Thorkell boomed, and with that, he was gone. Bjorn hesitantly stare at the dust cloud which was shaped of Thorkell.
“Should I stop him?”
Shaking his head, Askeladd cackled.
“Nah. But I must say, I wish I could see the little bastard’s face when that news is delivered to him.”
Outside, Thorkell was causing a ruckus. Although he was jogging his way around the camp, his weight and power shook the ground. His wide grin scared off everyone as the monstrous Viking shouted.
“HAS ANYONE SEEN MY NEPHEW?!”
The on looking Vikings complied by answering.
“Dining hall!”
With a good manner, Thorkell the Invincible waved at them.
“THANK YOU!!!”
The dining hall was simply a large tent were long tables and chairs has been set. It reeked of blood, piss and stew. Most of the men minded their own business, some were getting into a fist fights, drank their mead or filling up their sour, empty bellies. Thorkell did a look around and saw his great nephew at the edge of the table.
No matter what, Thorfinn had a look that could kill. Even when he was chewing on a cold potato.
With large grin, Thorkell runs toward him.
“FINNY MY BOY!!!”
The giant leaps, belly sliding on the surface of the long table with such an impact that he sent all the plates and food flying. The dining men yelped and shouted, but had no balls to confront Thorkell and his weird ass antic. Thorkell slid as if he was gliding on ice, and by the time he got to the end of the table, Thorkell placed his left hand on his hip while propped his face on his right knuckles. He looked so causal like he was lying on a mound of far.
Thorfinn had the bowel of potato stew on his palm and continued to chew his meal. He didn’t look as if he wanted to kill his great uncle. The young Norse man had mildly annoyed expression. He cocked his brow to indicate what the bloody hell Thorkell wanted.
With unending cheery disposition, grinned ear to ear.
“SO, TELL ME MY BOY! WHAT KIND OF GIRL DO YOU LIKE?!”
The question was loud enough for everyman in the dining hall could hear. And they wondered if an answer or a knife would fly out of Thorfinn.
Not even bothering to look at his great uncle, Thorfinn spat.
“What the hell do you want?”
Still in his ridiculous pose, Thorkell announced.
“YOU ARE ENGAGED THORFINN! TO THE PRINCESS OF DENMARK!”
This was a shocking new for all the warriors.
Thorfinn? The smelly brat with death glare was going to marry a royalty? While most of them laughed their belly laugh, half of them waited attentively to see what will Thorfinn do next.
Thorfinn glanced down at the bowel.
Then frowned.
He sat the bowel on the top of Thorkell’s head. Thorfinn was walking away, while Thorkell perfectly balanced the bowel of stew on his head, he called out to his great nephew.
“FINNY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!”
The young Viking gave his great uncle a murderous side glance.
“You are too simple to conjure up a plan like that. It’s Askeladd’s idea wasn’t it?”
Pulling out his infamous two knives, Thorfinn growled.
“I’m going to see Askeladd and remove his spine. I’ll definitely kill him this time.”
As Thorfinn runs toward headquarters with a murderous rampage, the witnesses wondered if Thorfinn could truly handle a person as delicate as the Princess.
----------------------------
Against the roaring fire, shadows and ashes mixed together into the foreboding darkness. Although Spring had arrived, the Danish court was cold. Winds constantly wailed, making the court hollow and soul less. The king sat up on his throne at the head of the room, beside him, a step below was a throne reserved for Harald, the next in line. The court ground was covered with the members of the court; high ranking officers, nobles and advisors.
In the midst of the chill. the King's eyes narrowed. In his eyes, cruel ecstasy dance with delight. He folded away the parchment which had been sent to him, and called out to his children.
Specifically, Canute.
“Canute, walk forth.”
The feeble prince did a quick glance at his chief retainer, Ragnar, and when the elder nodded, Canute indeed took a step forward.
Among three of his children, King Sweyn saw Canute utterly useless. The second born son of his was weak from birth, too sickly to hold a sword while the oldest son, Harald was a true warrior. Even his daughter Estrid had use. She was a girl and could be used as mean of political marriage.
But Canute? His true purpose was a spare son, other than that, who would want a misshaped weakling like him?
However, it seems that Canute had a chance to make him proud.
On his throne, King Sweyn looked down on his useless heir and smiled.
Instantly, Canute was taken back. It was such a kind and loving smile.... nothing he had ever saw before. It was a smile reserved for only Harald, the favored and beloved son. And it was something Canute had desired for so long. Harald too, noticed the changed behavior of his father, but remained silent.
Canute felt his heart racing, and stuttered.
“F-father?”
Holding out his rough, aged hand, King Sweyn called out to the youngest.
“ My son , won’t you come closer? Your father’s eyes haven’t aged well. Let me take a closer look.”
Part of Canute wanted to rush over to his father, but his cautious nature made him take a slow step. All the while Ragnar kept watchful eyes on his prince.
Canute stood at the throne steps and before he stopped, the King motioned him.
“No. Closer my son , closer.”
This time Canute’s eyes widen, he had never gotten this close to the throne before. Much less so close to his own father, the king.
King Sweyn chuckled at Canute’s expression.
“Come, come.”
Canute takes a careful step, he nearly tripped but managed to catch himself. All eyes were on Prince Canute and the more made him nervous. When Canute stood in front of his father, bellying his feeble appearance, the King took a hold of Canute’s wrist and yanked him forward.
Propping the Prince on his lap as if he was a child. In close inspection, the king’s skin was covered by unknown diseases and several of his teeth were missing. In other words, he was terrifying.
Members of the court murmured, because this made Second born Prince Canute, indirectly sitting on the ruling throne.
While Canute was internally panicked and confused, the old king hummed.
“I haven’t hold you like this in a long time. My how seasons changed, it feels like only a yesterday when you were a toddler. Remind your old father how many winters has passed since your birth.”
Canute felt like he was a rabbit having a heart attack, but he managed to squeak out an answer.
“Nin-nineteen f-father.”
Oh how he hated the pathetic stutter of his youngest son, but Sweyn shoves that annoyance deep within side of him The King’s eyes widen with mock concern.
“19 already? Looks like I have neglected my duty to find you a suitable partner. But fear not my son , I have found someone to take your hands.”
The young prince hiccupped.
“You....you have. Father?”
Nodding, King Sweyn boomed. His deep, harsh voice carried out through the court.
“LISTEN WELL MY ROYAL SUBJECTS, AND REJOYCE! THE WAR WITH THE NORSE MEN HAS ENDED WITH PEACEFUL NEGOTIATION!”
Immediately, there was flurry of words covering the court.
War with the Vikings were over? They were sure it was going to take much longer!
The King once again spoke over his servant.
“THE PEACE TREATY WILL BE SOLIDIFY BY A MARRIAGE. PRINCE CANUTE OF DENMARK WILL BE WEDDED TO PRINCE THORFINN OF JOMSVIKING!”
From a flurry, it became a roar.
The Prince will marry a Prince of the Vikings?! But not just any Vikings, it was the Jomsvikings! The legendary ruthless warriors! It was so scandalous that no one seem to able to shut up. King Sweyn went over to his last part of the announcement.
“ PRINCE CANUTE WILL DEPART TOMMOROW, MAY THE PEOPLE SEND HIM OFF WITH PRAYERS AND GOOD WISH!”
Turning to Canute once more, the King’s smile turned crueler. As if he had broken a kitten’s neck.
“ My son , you have my blessings. You will bring honor and glory to me.”
Canute’s eyes begin to turn frosty and his skin turn pale with dread and fear. But for the sake of self-preservation, Canute answered.
“I-I will father.”
The king nodded with satisfaction, and released his hold on Canute.
He’s their problem now.
Canute walked quickly toward Ragnar and both of them exited the room. The Prince’s legs were giving out because of fright and he had to lean on his taller and bigger retainer.
In panic Canute shook like a leaf and bit his lower lips, preventing himself to cry out loud.
“R-Ragnar. W-what did father do to me? W-was I s-sold to the V-Vikings?”
Ragnar kept a stoic face and comforted the Prince.
“Don’t worry your highness. Everything will work out.”
Before they could turn to the hall, someone caught up to him.
Harald....
Crowned Prince Harald was nothing like Canute. Unlike the younger Prince, he was tall and robust. His body was a body of a seasoned warrior, and his eyes.... oh how much they were like father’s.... cold, calculative and ruthless.
Ragnar stood protectively in from of the young prince and greeted Harald.
“My liege, I assume you are here to give your brother, Prince Canute your blessing as well?
The older Prince completely ignores Ragnar and focused on his younger brother instead.
Canute…. Frail….beautiful….useless Canute…..
The moment Harald saw Canute’s terrorized face, the older prince burst out laughing. His cruel laugh mixed with the screams of the wind. Snapping his head back down. Harald smirked.
“How did you like sitting on father’s lap? Remember, that’ll be the last time you’ll ever be sitting on the throne of this court.”
Clicking his heels away, Harald roared with mockery.
“PERFECT! JUST PERFECT! BECOMING AN ARGR TO A SAVAGE PRINCE! IT’S A ROLE YOU WERE DESTINED FOR!”
Ragnar wanted to yell at Prince Harald for his obstructive words yet, the retainer had no power to do so. The old man leads away frail Canute who was in near tear.
The two turn away from the cruel, court of the Danish kingdom. Ragnar had his guiding hand on Canute, it was firm and warn.