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sophiasharp · 9 months

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Man I don’t think we talk enough about the fact that in the wildly accepted fanon, the ghouls were like. Creatures pulled out of a primitive society full of bloodshed and danger. These guys were just chilling in hell, fighting for their lives every day like you do, and now they’re on Earth, expected to figure out Earth manners and technology and how the fuck anything works. I’ve been thinking about it, though. Let me walk you through my thoughts

THE GHOULS TRANSITIONING TO LIFE ON EARTH

Aether

- Bull in a China shop

- Big man has gotten very good at controlling his strength over the years. That control was NOT there at first.

- Bumped into fucking everything too. Dude’s used to being in the wide open abyss the quintessence ghouls occupy. Suddenly having to learn special awareness was. A hurdle of his.

- He broke a lot of tables. And chairs. And plates. Mugs. One Sibling’s arm. He got there eventually but Omega had to walk him through how fragile everything on Earth is compared to their ghoulish strength.

- Part of his habit of jumping up and down also comes from how different Earth is to his home environment. You mean you can go up and then you’ll come down again? Automatically? What a concept! Gravity is so much fun!

- Still gets some sense of novelty out of electric lighting. Being able to just. Make the dark go away? Whenever? Amazing.

- He keeps a night light on in his room. The last person to make fun of him for it mysteriously ended up with 3rd degree burns.

Dewdrop:

- Skittish little fucker

- Kinda like that one video of those weird crabs reacting to the diver

- Dew, poking at a toaster: Friend? Friend? Friend? Big noise! Scared! Scared! Scared! Scared! … Friend? Friend?

- Fucking LOVED blankets and coats and jackets and robes and honestly just anything that will keep him warm. He was used to the cold, sure, but if he had a choice between that and being cuddled under 5 different comforters, possibly with another ghoul for extra body heat? It wasn’t even a competition.

- Still had to often be reminded to wear clothes. “We’re in a hellish commune, does anyone really care about one ghoul being naked?” “It’s not so much the nakedness as much as the being out and about without your uniform.”

- Warm food blew his Fucking mind. Coming from the frigid arctic, whatever warmth you’d get from your food’s internal temperature was short lived. Microwaves? Ovens? Tea Kettles? Marvelous. Truly a gift from the Dark One

- Got REALLY into cooking. Dude is a wizard in the kitchen. Watched so many kitchen shows once he figured out how TV’s worked and started replicating the really fancy meals they were creating on screen with whatever he could find around the Abbey and what the kitchen staff were willing to give him. Now, whenever there’s a big occasion, he’s the one asked to oversee the food.

Mountain:

- weirdly calm and placid about everything despite not knowing how literally anything worked.

- Just casually curious about everything. Was always asking questions. Not in an annoying way, but just politely inquisitive.

- There was like a 50/50 chance he was actually listening to you at any given point in time. I mean, there are so many new sights, sounds, smells to experience! Can’t expect him to be 100% there when there’s still so much new splendor all around!

- If ever he was confronted with something new but no one was around to explain what it was, he would instead try to just. Figure it out on his own using his best judgement.

- This is how he once ended up straight up eating someone’s phone. This was very early on, mind you, but it was so smooth and shiny! And the precious metals inside were so tasty! He knows better now, of course. But there are some days where he’s tempted to give his ministry-issued smartphone a nibble…

- Figured out his love of gardening pretty damn fast considering that’s what he was originally summoned for. However, aside from tending to Primo’s garden, he found himself still going out to tend to the plants even in his free time. It’s calming to him, reminds him of home. When things get overwhelming, the plants are there to let him channel his worry into something producing.

- His first personal plant was a small pot of rosemary. He kept it in the window of his room and took *such* good care of it. It’s still there to this day, nestled among the other plants he’s accumulated of the years.

Swiss

- he is so excited about everything!!!!

- He has to be touching all the new things all the time! What does it do? How is it made?? Can he eat it??? A lot of things that were small enough went straight into his mouth. Copia needed to keep a spray bottle on him at all times to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.

- Of course, when he was around the other ghouls, he played it cool. Have to make a good impression on his new (and hopefully permanent) packmates after all. He reeeaaaally didn’t want get sent back to the pit so getting in good with the rest of the band was TOP priority!

- In fact that need to be liked was bordering on unhealthy and sort of sabotaged himself a bit. Acting all suave and cocksure when the entire rest of the band was on high alert does that.

- Most of the ghouls regarded him with a hefty amount of distrust at first- being the first summon of the new boss came with a LOT of baggage -but Cumulus saw straight through him. He was just a silly little guy! She became his first real friend amongst the pack.

- The two became menaces together, exploring the abbey and messing with shit they probably shouldn’t have. Primo’s garden was a favorite of theirs, much to Mountain’s chagrin.

- Was just SOOOO fascinated by this new body he’s been put in. Unlike most the other ghouls, he didn’t have a physical body he inhabited back in hell, only being given one when he was summoned to the surface. Flesh! If feels funny! What does this thing down here do-

Cumulus:

- was honestly kinda scared at first, what with the whole mood of the pack being out of wack.

- Apparently their new boss might have killed someone? That’s the guy that summoned them? Uh oh!

- Stayed glued to Cirrus in the beginning. Being summoned together meant having a strong built-in bond with each other, always having access to what the other is feeling. Being together offered a much-needed sense of comfort to Cumulus. Getting to spend time with a really pretty girl wasn’t bad either.

- Swiss was the one to bring her out of her shell, imbuing her with confidence through his own fake bravado. They came to rely on each other in that sense. When Cumulus was scared to do the things she wanted, Swiss would convince her of her capability. When Swiss was anxious and felt like a fraud, Cumulus would remind him of his sincerity.

- Was very curious about how her magic worked on the surface versus how it did in the pit. Back home, she was used to having to beat against the constant winds of the first layer of hell. Now that she’s on Earth, her powers are much more powerful than she ever expected them to be!

- LOVED textiles. She surrounded herself in all things soft and fluffy. Her bedroom (and most nights Cirrus’s as well) is just so Fucking cozy. Blankets and pillows everywhere. Her stuffed animal collection is unmatched. Will cry if even one of them ends up on the floor.

- Dew was the one to help her start her collection. To this day they are each other’s #1 cuddle buddies.

Cirrus:

- Stone cold badass front to hide how nervous she was.

- VERY protective of Cumulus in the beginning. She could feel how scared she was and felt the need to step up and protect the both of them from any threat this new environment may have… even if the perceived threat is a bit stupid.

- She once kicked in the washing machine cause it made a sound once it was done and it startled her. Not her proudest moment.

- Was almost OVERPROTECTIVE of Cumulus at first, even, doing even the simplest of tasks for her to prevent risk of injury. That was until she watched her kick a sibling straight in the nuts for making snide remarks about Cirrus in front of her. Cirrus had never fallen in love faster.

- Took a LONG while to warm up to the others. Constantly felt like she had something to prove, like she needed to show that she wouldn’t buckle under pressure. Everyone (but Cumulus) was a threat.

- Adores weather on Earth and how it isn’t just WIND 24/7. She loves all the different shapes of the clouds, how dark they get with moisture, the gentle snowfall or the needle-like rain. Really puts her at peace to be out on a rainy day

Rain:

- S C A R E D

- Everything is new and bright and cold and heavy and loud and- and- and-

- Yeah he barely left his room for a week, didn’t talk to anyone for anything. Not shy, necessarily, but just freaked the fuck OUT. They were starting to think he was nonverbal cause man refused to use his voice. In his defense, talking outside the water feels very different when you’re used to your vocal cords wiggling in water all your life.

- In my brain the first time he did speak was to Copia after he did his lil oopsie with the rest of the pack. It’s like a day later and Copia’s tryna plan how he’s gonna make it up to the ghouls when rain cornered him in a dark hallway, made direct eye contact, and in the softest voice went “I wouldn’t go near the lake if I were you. It’s hard to hear screaming underwater.” He then left a completely stunned and freaked tf out Copia standing alone in the hall like it never happened.

- He kinda regrets letting his first words on Earth be a threat now but the rest of the pack is flattered, although they do still sometimes tease him for it.

- Really started coming out of his shell when Dew made dinner for him. Dew was in the same shoes as him once and, although his relationship with the new water ghoul was complicated, he still felt obligated to help his new packmate adjust to life on Earth.

- Bro went through the trouble of showing Rain what every little thing in the kitchen did so he wouldn’t be scared to make his own food anymore, all while making him some grade A gourmet dining. Dew didn’t know it at the time but that’s when the heart-eyes started.

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ghostofhyuck · 1 month

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NCT Dream when they're in a long distance relationship.

AN: Why do I visualize this as when Dreamies are in a worldtour.

Mark Lee ; Daily messages and late-night chats.

He's the type who'll keep the relationship alive by sending you message 24/7, like, literally. He'll send you the most random pictures like what food he ate today or when he's in the middle of rehearsal, he'll never forget to update you. He's not the type who'll overthink when you don't reply in less than a minute because he knows that you're busy, but if you have time and so is he, you two will spend the remaining hours just chatting and flirting on text.

Huang Renjun ; counts down the days you two will be together again.

Renjun is a very very clingy boyfriend, so I feel like he's the type who'll count down the days you two will be together again. He'll place it on his phone's calendar and he'll be all excited when the count is slowly turning into a few days. He's also the one who'll keeps on telling you that you two will meet in *insert number* days. He just couldn't wait to see you again.

Lee Jeno ; long hours of calls and silence.

Jeno would absolutely be chill with long-distance. He thinks that your relationship is low-maintenance that is why he's fine with being far away from you. Of course, he still misses you, that's why he would often call you and ask you about your day, then sometimes those calls will become silent but neither of you wanted to hang-up. The call will continue even when you two are fast asleep.

Lee Donghyuck ; having a hard time bec. he's physically clingy!

Haechan will scream at your messages, constantly bugging you and asking to videocall him because he misses you! he misses your smile, your hug, and your kisses! He needs you and all the Dreamies HATE to share the hotel room with him because he'll just constantly whine at how he misses his girlfriend.

Na Jaemin ; care package <3

You'll randomly hear the doorbell of your apartment flat, and when you look at the peephole, it's a random NCT member. You'll be confused as to why they're at your place but they told you that Jaemin ordered you something. You'll apologize to them for disturbing their free day but they'll brush it off. When you receive the package, it's a care package with the most random things like chocolates and snacks up to cute accessories like necklace or a perfume! You'll call your boyfriend and then he said to enjoy the package while he's overseas.

Zhong Chenle ; he needs you right now!

After their concert, Chenle stayed in China for another week to rest but it means that he won't be seeing you for another week. He just misses you so so much, so when you're on a call with him, you joke at how you can just book a flight to China so that he wouldn't complain anymore, then an impulsive idea popped onto his mind, and the next thing you knew, you're on the next flight going to China just to see your boyfriend.

Park Jisung ; plushies as replacements

Jisung knows how clingy you are whenever he leaves for the tour, so he decided to give you tons of tons of plushie to compensate his leave. He'll give you that huge chestnut plushie that he made for his birthday md, so that you won't miss him when he's gone. Of course, it's not enough, but it'll suffice and sometimes you would bring the chestnut plushie around the house. When Jisung video-called you, he was smiling widely when he saw you hugging the plushie.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream reactions #nct drabbles #nct mark #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct renjun #nct jisung

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snackugaki · 11 months

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...visdev really is my enrichment activity for i am just a bored tiger in my enclosure, looking to figure out how to get this steak out of this metal ball.

________

my tmnt au (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt au part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

tmnt au omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

lny visit 1 | 2

also uhhh... i guess still idw, next mutation, and like 1 mirage spoiler? mostly for the kids who haven’t but were planning to read/watch

you’re about to perceive so much

p r e p a r e

so close to getting this AU looking as crunchy as i want it, almosttttt tttthhhhhere...!

just somewhere tasty between Mignola’s use of deep black shadow, what MTV Liquid Television woulda greenlit re: The Maxx, a dash of 2007, 1 part Next Mutation, 2 parts funny proportions

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh str ugglingggg

Leo’s shortest because haha (family baby gang, get rekt)

this is so much thought for something I’m just doing to give these turtle ninjas some softness and the genx/millenial pop culture references gag comics

Splinter is full of ghosts

(specifically the onryo borne from the murdered Yoshi Hamato and Tang Shen [because oroku saki a bitch])

[ redacted ] and Tang Shen’s ghost gained control and guided Splinter to raise the boys in love and not [ redacted ] to [ redacted ] in [ redacted ]

Splinter was just a regular little rat... who on his 1000th birthday witnessed the death of his friend/unwitting master and his wife, and thus transformed into a wrathful kyūso (minus the kitten eating) and chased Shredder until losing his trail in New York

Shredder’s fuck around and Splinter’s rampaging as the find out caused the tengu to repo some of the mysticism from ninjutsu

now all the (remaining) ninja clans debuffed and mad about it

The tengu bestowed the ninja the ability to summon shit (kuchiyose), enact mystical effects upon people and objects (kuji kiri), going invisible, minor flight (actually just qinggong/light body technique), and manipulation of the 5 elements, and creating doubles (bunshin)

but again, Shredder fucked up so now ninja can like barely control anything bigger than a lit torch or a 16 oz bottle of liquid and that’s if you got in enough hours to do even that

I mentioned elsewhere but for me in any AU I make, Venus is a cultivator and the more I think about it the more I will die on this hill, not only does it fit better than her being a “shaman” or “shinobi” it’s sick as fuck

Jennika’s origin was pretty fkkn metal, she still falls in with the Foot, gets shanked, Leo gives blood-- bam, turtle time

Jennika goes to hang with Venus in China and get a better understanding of her new turtle body

Keno’s here, still tried to infiltrate the Foot (with Jennika) but bugged out when she couldn’t stay without being made (Jennika refused to leave womp)

teaches Leo some arnis techniques for Leo’s dual wielding; Donnie also just in case his bo is shattered... again. :)

Irma has made all the boys blush at least twice

Irma is also soap opera buddies with Splinter

they meet up at least twice a month to gab, gush, and groan over what’s currently going on in their stories, when Venus visits she also joins in, Irma also has a conversational grasp on Japanese and Venus’ regional dialect because of these visits

April has a full out shoujo manga romance with Chu Hsi

and he’s a hot dragon prince uhuhuhuhuhu

Irma is privy to all the steamy details

keeping Leo and Karai as character foils

both received scars from one another

both released each other from sealing wards from [ redacted ]

now they just meet every so often to eat the greasiest fast food and unclench of an hour

Raph still gets his ass worked by Ninjara, folded like an omelette sat on a lawn chair

Vam Mi is also here, she’s fought first (because honestly she should’ve been either brought in earlier in the season or had a few more episodes because that shit coulda resolved better)

Venus is brought to NYC for this antagonist instead of Dragonlord escaping (and murdering her father figure forcing her to seek out his friend Splinter for aid)

Donnie doesn’t take the news of real vampires or real magic well

Donnie and Venus have a knock down drag out fight over it (because they’re 17 at this point and being li’l shits to each other about their respective fields of expertise)

“The nerds are fightingggggg!” cries Mikey, Leo and Raph don’t believe it so imagine their surprise when they get a demo in real time on how scary competent staff fighters are

Leo gets Splinter when one of Donnie’s missed strikes cracks the concrete

Splinter breaks them up like talking a walk in the park and it’d be comical if they both weren’t bleeding from the mouth and peppered with swelling contusions

Venus begins accepting Donnie when his tech prevents her from becoming a thrall of Vam-Mi

Donnie begins accepting Venus when she uses a massive amount of chi to manipulate gravity just before he becomes street pizza when Vam-Mi throws him off a bridge

they also combine skill sets to save Mikey so there’s that

Venus goes from calling Donnie, “Horatio (derogatory)” to “Horatio (affectionate)”

they now have a dumbass long-as-fuck handshake that’s unforgivably nerdy

April is still a magic drawing-brought-to-life baby, Venus puts her in a painted scroll when she starts phasing in and out of existence (she and Chu Hsi have a great time in the scroll... while everyone is shitting bricks until Venus and her sect stabilize her and get her made real, Pinocchio style)

April’s grandmothers gifted Venus 2 pieces of jade jewelry, and her family’s recipe for sweet potato pudding respectively for saving April

the boss fight against Dragonlord is dope as fuckkkkk, Chu Hsi is being cool as fuck, fiddled with some concepts* that has Leo and Karai being a champion of Genbu, Raph for Byakko, Mikey for Suzaku, Chu Hsi’s retainer (a good dragon, wink wonk) steps in for Seiryu because Donnie and Venus are siphoning and redirecting an enormous amount and variety of mystical power

*i’m just pulling from fushigi yugi honestly

splinter, the boys, and venus (and others) mutating from mutagen laced toxic waste was a pure accident

Splinter was investigating a lead on Shredder’s movements concerning the Foot the same night an animal liberation sleeper cell ‘freed’ some animals from the back of a pet store (that was a front for black market domestic and exotic animal trafficking) that is also the same night a stolen truck driven by some corporate spies filled with a competitor’s chemical waste, which then collides with said liberation sleeper cell’s truck and... ooze happens

Leatherhead, the Mutanimals, Mondo, Mona Lisa, Slash also get mutated from the events of that night, either leading up to or following the aftermath

plus some others etc etc

Venus still washes down the gutter, gets rube goldberg pinballed onto a crate of plums where Chung I finds her and still gets named Mei and taken to live in China and eventually learns to cultivate

Tokka and Rahzar get made, and unmade ala TMNT II; the mutagen made them a little silly tho, April adopts Rahzar and passes him off as a low content wolfdog, Leatherhead takes in Tokka

April went through a couple of major changes so now she’s a journalist with a computer programming background who now does a podcast as an informal neighborhood news reporter with a segment for chatting with people from around the street

Mikey’s the most frequent guest and co-hosts sometimes; Donnie troubleshoots free of charge

Venus brings her province’s regional delicacies when she comes to visit, Splinter and Leo both get pu er tea cakes (she managed to get one the same age as him; Splinter is too old so she got the oldest she could find, Leo has so many tea pets and a nice yixing collection); Raph, Keno, and Casey fight over the pickles, meat jerkies, and chili oil; Mikey has an artillery of cool shirts and a lifetime supply of haw flakes, Donnie has a mountain of doodads with increasingly specific uses, April gets neat accessories and the occasional care package sent with Venus from her grandparents, uncles, and aunties; Irma gets neat frames and coats that never fail to get a “Where did you get that??”

Raph rides a Kawasaki Ninja because it’s funny

A lot of bodegas give Mikey free snacks because the bodega cats love him, and he’s also saved some from being run over or ripped apart by stray dogs or the few large angry raccoons

Donnie’s the only one of his brothers to wear both a top and bottom with shoes because once he figured out how to integrate a motherboard and miscellany wiring onto clothing... he’s been a walking computing menace ever since

Splinter does his best to enjoy his time with his sons (because as a kyūso, he knows the chances of outliving his precious sons is very high (ᴗ‿ᴗ✿) ...give or take one of the many opponents and obstacles his sons take on takes him out first ( ◕ᴗ◕✿ ) )

god whathefuck, I was just going to make silly comics for them. how did it come to this.

#i'm so curious #some of you kids tag this shit as 2003 #and i'm ???#i'm not subtle about being an elder millenial #or about who my childhood turtles were #i love trash #i love the next mutation #like is it to keep your tag active?#i feel like it's probably the thing #where someone assumes they're interacting with someone of their same xyz #which honestly? fair #a lot of the TMNT fans I see are 03 or 12 fans #there's a few other Turtlemania survivors around that I see #but not a lot of us #:(#...i'm still laughing at that poll #with the arbitrary age cut off being 37+#sorry poll op #it's just... it was literally oddly specific #ba dum tss #if you know why I used apples as a measurement...#...hahaha you also like Sanrio #if you know who I based Irma off of...#can you blame me #Nadia is who Irma would be #if she kept the cheek but mellowed out a li'l #so much weird shit happened to her #so of course she'd simultaneously be #blase cheeky and wry #visdev is my enrichment activity

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perotovar · 4 months

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ásjá - a winter solstice story

Ásjá by Heilung (i highly recommend listening to this while reading)

Our second single release is a love song. Maria sings to the listener of love, recovery and prosperity, chasing away evil and welcoming love. The piece contains a quotation of some lines of “Hávamál”, combined with a selection of blessing words meant to provide help to the listener in a troubled time. Kai brought his vocal part of 'Asja' back to us after a month of isolation, fasting and meditation in nature. Only the spirits know the full meaning, but we do know that the context is love, prosperity and protection.

pairing: pero tovar/ofc!helga (but this is mostly a character study) rating: T word count: 7.4k (idk what happened here) warnings: minor swearing, google translated spanish (sorry), historical inaccuracies in favor of fantasy/magic, my american norse pagan perspective of these practices, if i missed anything else lemme know! dividers by @saradika-graphics beta and norwegian translations by the lovely @chloeangelic thank you, honey ♥

summary: Pero picks up a contract that leads him "somewhere up North", but what he finds instead is unlike anything he imagined for himself. Or, what would happen if Pero encountered the Vikings during their winter celebration?

this is apart of @hellishjoel's 12 days of pedro. thank you for including me, kylee, and make sure you all read the other presents!

god jól, everyone🌲❄️🌙🐺

It was fucking cold.

With shaking hands and numb limbs, Pero made his way further up the hill. The wind picked up the further he went into the trees.

The contract he’d taken up was for a man by the name of Ingvar. A strange name to Pero’s ears, but that hardly mattered to him. This Ingvar was to be taken care of, and Pero had to show proof.

Not a problem.

The problem, at least for the moment, was the fucking weather and his own lack of foresight. He was told that Ingvar was “somewhere up North”, and that was it. He didn’t exactly plan for just how cold it would be. His fingers were going numb and red, and he saw every breath that left his lungs. If William were here, he’d tell Pero to quit his “bitching” and to make camp.

The camp, he could do. The bitching? Unlikely.

Pero and William separated after the… events in China. They stayed together to do a few jobs together, but William decided to make his way back to China and meet up with Lin Mae again, possibly even settle down. Pero didn’t fancy seeing the people that had arrested and almost killed him, and black powder wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. At least not to him. He rather liked the uncertainty of his job. Found comfort in it, in fact. His future was set for him in this line of work. He would live doing the things he loved most; fighting, fucking, and drinking. And the ending was always the same. At least, that’s what he told himself.

A low whisper brought Pero out of his thoughts. He snapped his head towards the direction of the sound and furrowed his already heavy brow. The sound of a raven cawing caught his attention, making him hum skeptically to himself before deciding this was as good a spot as any for a fire.

Once settled on a fallen tree and attempting to warm his hands with his meager fire, Pero dug into his travel pack. He grumbled at the pitiful excuse for food he had left. He grabbed a piece of thick, dry bread and started ripping off chunks and eating that. Perhaps he could hunt? Find a rabbit, or something a little bigger. He remembered to make a bow this time. Swallowing the last chunk of the bread, he picked up his bow and arrows, and threw his cloak-slash-blanket over his shoulders. It was going to be dark soon, and he didn’t like the idea of starving his first night in this frozen Northern hell.

Another whisper.

Pero’s body went taut. He looked between the tall trees and the endless sea of white ahead of him. Nothing. A rabbit hopped by, distracting him. Before he could think too hard, he knocked an arrow and let fly. The arrow landed in the snow just after the rabbit hopped away.

“Mierda,” he grumbled. (Shit.)

He crouched low and slowly followed after the rabbit. He made his way toward a small clearing, which seemed to be in the center of the forest, if his tracking skills were getting any better.

There was a large stone in the middle, towards the top of the clearing. There looked to be a large blood stain in the center of it. Pero raised a brow and grunted quietly. This was none of his business, clearly.

Suddenly, the rabbit made its way to the middle of the clearing, next to the large stone. Pero sighed and lined up a shot, hoping for the best. He released a breath at the same time that the arrow left his fingers, and another whisper passed through his ears.

He gasped quietly and time seemed to stop as the arrow traveled through the cold air. A shiver ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the weather. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath, trying to make himself as still as possible.

The sound of the arrow piercing the rabbit startled him out of his frozen state. He blinked a few times, the white forest coming back into view as he looked down at the dead rabbit in the clearing. He exhaled and slowly stood, settling his bow on his shoulder. He looked around again, and when he saw nothing, slowly made his way down the hill and towards the center of the clearing.

He picked up the dead rabbit and removed the arrow, tucking it into his belt to clean and use again later. Standing in the center of the clearing, he looked over at the bloodstained stone and felt that shiver go down his spine again. He looked up at the gray sky and decided it was time to go back to his camp. He hooked the rabbit’s carcass onto his belt, pulled the cloak over his shoulders tighter, and shoved his hands inside the fabric.

“Maldita nieve,” he grumbled to himself. (Fucking snow.) As he climbed back up the hill, he felt a sharp pain in his foot and lost his balance, catching himself with his hands in the snow. He hissed loudly and looked down at his boot. A small spike was poking out through the top, meaning the sharp rock was piercing through his foot. He groaned and leaned against the hill, steadying his breathing. He counted to three in his head and yanked the rock from his foot. “Fuck,” he exhaled loudly, a few drops of his own blood covering his palm as he looked at the rock. A small symbol was carved into it, making him squint his eyes, trying to decipher what it was. Pero shook his head and sighed, pocketing the strange rock to inspect later.

On his way back to his little camp, limping the whole way to not put too much pressure on his foot, he grabbed some branches to make the fire last a little longer. Once the meager fire came into view, he swore he saw someone sitting on the log he was using before. He froze in place, heavy boots landing in the snow abruptly. He squinted his eyes and grew confused. An old man? What would he be doing out here?

Pero looked around the frozen forest to see if there was anyone that could be with the old man. When he didn’t see anyone, he looked back at the campfire, and the old man was gone. He’d completely vanished. Pero grunted quietly and rubbed his eyes with frozen fingers. He shook his head to snap himself out of it and made his way over to the campfire.

After putting the rabbit on the spit and it started to cook, Pero made his bed for the night. He’d do his best to sleep, but didn’t have high hopes. Once the rabbit was cooked, he stabbed it with his knife and started eating it messily. He groaned at the taste of fresh, hot, cooked meat and enjoyed it, even if it was pretty bland. It warmed his bones a little and made him more comfortable, pulling the cloak tighter around his shoulders.

The sound of a branch snapping behind him went unnoticed by Pero’s ears, too focused on the food. He hadn’t eaten in days. The second snap, however, was heard, and it made him drop the rabbit onto the ground and grab his sword, brandishing it in front of him as he stood.

“¿Dónde estás, bastardo?” He grumbled under his breath, his heavy breaths puffing out into smoke. (Where are you, bastard?)

He sighed in frustration when he didn’t see anything. He was seriously starting to consider if this contract was even worth it. And if it wasn’t, would he be able to make it back without dying? Either from the cold, or whatever it was that was playing with him. He mumbled obscenities to himself and sat back down on his fallen tree.

He picked up the rabbit and groaned at the dirt now covering it. He blew off what he could and decided to continue eating it, dirt be damned. He was hungry.

Once full, he looked up at the moon in the sky, trying to figure out how late it was. He rubbed his hands over his arms to keep warm and added a branch or two to his fire. He grabbed a piece of spare cloth from his travel pack and quickly wrapped his foot. He laid down next to the fire and pulled the cloak up over his shoulders and shut his eyes. He didn’t feel tired, but he couldn’t help closing his eyes. He tried to fight it, to keep his guard up, but it was useless.

He started to feel lightheaded and turned onto his back, looking up at the moon again. The moon and the stars, so bright he almost didn’t need the campfire, were swirling around and moving in close and further away. The trees surrounding him looked to be moving side to side.

What was happening? Did the old man poison him somehow? Who was that old man?

His vision went blurry and he felt like he was spinning in place despite laying on the ground, completely still. He let out a weak groan and tried to move, reaching for his sword.

The last thing he saw before his vision went black, was the silhouette of a large dog, or perhaps a wolf, in the distance hidden behind the trees.

Warmth. He felt warm. And a pounding headache.

Pero slowly blinked awake and groaned at the light that hit his eyes. The smell of cooked meat and root vegetables hit his nostrils. His stomach whined in protest.

“For en merkelig fyr…” An older male voice said, somewhere behind him. (He is a strange one…)

“Kjekk, da,” A younger, female voice replied. (Handsome, though.)

He didn’t understand any of it. It wasn’t a language he’d heard before. Eyelids fluttering, he slowly opened his eyes to a small gathering of people all looking down at him. He startled and reached for his knife, and grunted when he didn’t feel it.

“Vi har våpnene dine. De er trygge.” (We have your weapons. They’re safe.)

Pero turned his head in the direction of the voice and squinted his eyes at the woman. She looked to be in her 30s, with a baby attached to her breast and drinking.

“No entiendo,” he grumbled, voice hoarse from lack of use. “¿Dónde estoy?” (I do not understand. Where am I?)

He took in his surroundings, now sitting up, and saw that he looked to be in a small room cut off from a much larger group of people. He heard laughter and song outside the cloth separating the, assumed, larger hall from where he was now. He furrowed his brows. A celebration? What for?

“¿Dónde estoy?” He repeated, voice slightly harsher. (Where am I?)

“Har ikke hørt det språket før,” one of the men said. (Haven’t heard that tongue before.) Pero looked up at him and squinted his eyes slightly. The man was large, with a full beard, and an even fuller middle. But there was no denying his strength; age hadn’t stopped this man from doing well in a fight, Pero assumed. Not that he couldn’t take him, of course. He looked at the man’s belt and saw a one-handed axe attached to his belt and thought better of it, especially without his own weapons.

Suddenly a small sting came from his foot and he snapped his head down at the young woman tending to the wound he’d gotten on his way back from the clearing. He’d almost completely forgotten about it, too cold to even really feel it. The young woman startled and blushed, keeping her head down as she cleaned the cut.

“Det er et vakkert språk, da, er det ikke?” The first younger woman’s voice came through, a slightly entranced tone to it. (It is a beautiful tongue, though, no?) He looked to his left and saw her batting her eyelashes at him. He huffed a breath in amusement. He’d had his fair share of women giving him looks like that, almost always with a payment in mind, but his thoughts were elsewhere, even if it did feel nice. And she was a tad too skinny for his own tastes.

Pero exhaled. This was clearly getting nowhere. Fine. “Where am I? You know English, yes?” He asked, exasperated, in the general direction of anyone who might be able to answer him.

The shy girl cleaning his wound lifted her head and smiled softly at him. “I know a little,” she said quietly, her voice heavily accented.

“Finally,” he sighed. “What is going on?”

“A few of our men found you in the forest, passed out. Your lips were blue.” She won’t make eye contact with him, bur her brows furrowed like she was worried for him. “We have lost some of our own men in a similar way before. It is not pretty.”

Pero hummed softly and nodded his thanks. “Did any of them see an old man? In the woods?”

The girl tilted her head and asked the man next to him, the one with the axe in his belt, if any of them had seen such a man. The man raised a brow and shook his head, looking at Pero skeptically.

“Ingvar says–”

“Yes, I understood, thank you–” Pero cut himself off and looked back at the man with the axe. This was Ingvar? Pero looked back at the girl and nodded his head as she bandaged his wound, his own cloth wrapped around his ankle. He would have to be careful if he was to carry out this contract. “Thank you,” he repeated, the words foreign on his tongue.

The girl nodded, cheeks pink, and stood to leave. As she left, the cloth covering them moved to show a large fire in the middle of the hall with an even larger feast around it. The girl came back with a tankard of something for him and he took it gratefully. As the sweet liquid hit his tongue, he coughed slightly.

“What is this?” He wheezed a little, looking at the cup like it slapped his mother.

The girl giggled before saying, “Mead. It is honey wine.”

Pero rolled the words around his tongue for a moment. “Interesante,” he hummed to himself. (Interesting.)

“Vel, han er våken. Tilby ham noe å spise, men hold øye på ham. Han ser ut som en leiesoldat, og jeg stoler ikke på ham,” Ingvar grunted, leaving the room and rejoining the festivities. (Well, he is up. Invite him to eat, but keep an eye on him. He looks like a mercenary and I do not trust him.)

Pero watched him closely as he left, and took another drink of his mead, eyes hard.

“Would you like some food, mister-”

“Tovar,” Pero grunted. “Yes. I am very hungry.” He turned on the cot and got to his feet quickly, but quickly lost his balance, a couple of the women catching him as he stood on shaky legs. He sighed in frustration and stood on his own, shrugging off their help. The girl held her arm out to him, and didn’t seem too offended when he just stared at it.

“Tovar. This way,” she smiled, her face a little pinched.

“What are you celebrating?” He asked, looking around at all the food. His stomach roared at the smells.

“It is the third night of Jól. You have heard of Jól?” She asked excitedly, turning to him as she found a place for him to sit. He slowly made his way down at a long table nearby where Ingvar sat at the head of the table. A leader. This contract was getting more difficult by the second.

“I have not,” he grumbled. “What is this… Yool?”

The girl giggled again, this time at his attempt at the word. “Jól is the celebration that welcomes back the sun from the harsh Winter. Our crops start growing as the sun comes back, and the snow melts away.”

Pero hummed as he listened, nodding his thanks when she handed him a full plate of different meats, root vegetables, bread, and cheese. “You are farmers?”

The girl nods. “Most of us. Some are warriors.”

Pero hummed again, chewing on a piece of meat. “How did you learn English?”

The girl turned a little sad, but smiled anyway. “We used to have a man that came from… Eng-land? He died last year,” she sighed. “He taught me and a few of the children how to read and speak English. How did you learn?”

Pero frowned around his food and sighed.

“I am sorry, forget–” Pero held up a hand to stop her. “Apologies. I am… unused to kindness from strangers,” he grunted, not meeting her eyes. “A dear friend of mine is from Scotland. We have separated so he could be with his woman. He taught me.”

“Scotland?”

“It is near England.”

She nodded, slowly picking at her own food. The two of them grew quiet and just ate for a while. The celebrations continued around them, and it gave Pero a chance to take it all in.

In the center of the hall was a large hearth, with an even larger tree in the middle, lighting up the hall. It looked like the one he was using earlier as a bench, so they must have gotten it from the same forest. He can’t be too far from there, then. There were candles and flames everywhere, lighting up the hall brightly, but warmly.

He looked back at the girl and found her already staring at him. She startled, cheeks going pink again, and looked down at her food. He smirked a little, but hid it well. She was amusing.

“What is your name?” He asked.

“Sigrid,” she said softly.

“It sounds strong.”

“Yes. I am more drawn to medicine, so I suppose the name is ironic.”

Pero chuckled. “Hardly.”

Sigrid smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them again before Pero asked, “Who is Ingvar? He seems like a powerful man.”

“He is our Jarl. Our leader.”

“Is this like a king?” Pero furrowed his brows. He didn’t think this contract would be finished.

“Not exactly. But no less powerful.”

“I see,” Pero grunted. As if on cue, Ingvar stood from his seat at the head of the table, a large grin on his bearded face.

“Venner! Kvelden er ung, og festen er rik. Vær så snill, nyt, for mine gamle beindekk. Jeg ser dere alle i morgen tidlig.” Everyone raised their drinks and shouted… something, but Pero didn’t catch it. Sigrid leaned over and translated what Ingvar said for him. He nodded his thanks, but he was skeptical at best. Ingvar left through a door behind the throne that sat in the center of the hall. (Friends! The night is young, and the feast bountiful. Please, enjoy, for my old bones tire. I will see you all in the morning.)

“He cannot be that old, no?”

“He has been around much longer than I,” Sigrid shrugged. Pero laughed softly, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You are a child, of course he has.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny it. “If seventeen winters makes me a child, then yes.”

Pero choked on his mead and hit his chest to keep from coughing too hard. “Yes, it does,” he wheezed, laughing quietly. Sigrid laughed, too, eating some bread and cheese. A small child ran up to Sigrid and asked her a question as he tugged on her dress. Sigrid looked back at Pero apologetically and he waved her off, eating some more meat.

This was hardly the setting he expected for himself when he took the contract, but he couldn’t deny it, it was a pleasant one. The food was good, and the people seemed friendly enough. He couldn’t help but be confused by the contract; who was dumb enough to put a hit out on a powerful leader like Ingvar?

Sigrid mentioned that some of them were warriors. That didn’t surprise him at all. Just by looking at the people around the table, men and women alike, he could’ve figured that out on his own.

He sighed to himself and chewed thoughtfully. Suddenly, he remembered the small stone that pierced his foot. He looked around at the people around him to be sure no one was watching before he felt around his pocket for the stone. When he didn’t feel anything, his body went taut and he froze. Shit. They probably found it when they grabbed his weapons. Where were his weapons?

Sigrid came up to his side with the small child from before holding her hand and looking at him from behind her. “Tovar?” She asked softly. He looked up at her, heavy brow still pulled down. She gave him a quick once-over before clearing her throat. “We have sleeping quarters for you, but Lord Ingvar wishes to speak with you first.”

Pero chuckled humorlessly around his food before putting it down on his plate. He grabbed the mead and took a drink, making a face at the taste. He wasn’t sure he’d get used to that anytime soon. “Of course he does,” he sighed. “You will translate for me?”

Sigrid nodded, braided blonde hair swinging with the movement, and looked like she was trying to steel herself. He admired her mettle.

Pero followed after her, keeping light pressure on his foot as they went through that door Ingvar went through before. It led down a short hallway and ended up in a large bedroom. Ingvar was sitting on the edge of the bed before standing tall and fixing Pero with a hard look. Pero grunted and rested a hand on his hip as he leaned on the uninjured foot, waiting to get this over with.

“Hva heter du?” Ingvar grunted. (What is your name?)

“He asked your name,” Sigrid said softly.

“Tovar,” Pero narrowed his eyes.

“Hvorfor er du her?” (Why are you here?)

Sigrid translated quietly.

“Your people brought me here. I was wondering the same thing,” Pero shrugged with an attitude. Ingvar gave him a look, clearly unimpressed. Pero rolled his eyes.

Ingvar looked at Sigrid and she blushed, nodding. “He didn’t mean–”

“Yes, I know what he meant,” Pero sighed. “I had a contract. I came to fulfill that contract.”

Sigrid spoke quietly and Ingvar seemed tired as he nodded.

“Var navnet mitt på denne kontrakten?” Ingvar sighed. Pero gave Sigrid a look as she quickly translated. (Did this contract have my name on it?)

“It did…” Pero raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. Ingvar nodded again, but Pero spoke up before he could say anything. “I decided not to complete the contract when I saw your celebration and… status. I may be a mercenary, but I am no fool. I do not go after lords or kings.”

Ingvar raised a brow and chuckled quietly before letting out a loud, hearty laugh. “Jeg vet ikke om du er smart eller dum,” Ingvar smiled, cheeks flushed with mirth. “Jeg takker deg, men tilgi meg for at jeg ikke stoler på deg helt, Tovar.” (I do not know if you are smart or stupid. I thank you. But you will forgive me for not completely trusting you, Tovar.)

Pero nodded and shrugged. “I understand.”

Sigrid looked between the two of them, looking much less nervous. She quickly spoke to Ingvar quietly, asking him a question. Ingvar nodded, a small smile on his lips.

“Nyt festen, Tovar. Vi diskuterer hva vi skal gjøre med deg om morgenen.” (Enjoy the festivities, Tovar. We will discuss what to do with you in the morning.)

“I wish to leave,” Pero grunted, looking between Sigrid and the Jarl. Sigrid looked a little crestfallen, but took one more look at Ingvar before he waved them off. She pushed Pero out of the Jarl’s quarters and back out into the celebration. “Sigrid?” Pero asked, confused.

She sighed before looking up at him. “The Jarl wishes to keep you here until Jól ends. To keep an eye on you, make sure you keep your word.” She started wringing her hands together and bit her lip.

“How much longer is Yool?”

Sigrid went quiet.

“Sigrid.”

“Nine more days,” she sighed, looking down.

Pero’s eyes went wide before he shut them and sighed heavily. He looked up at the ceiling and mumbled, “Joder yo,” under his breath. (Fuck me.) “Fine. Nine more days and I will leave.”

Over the course of the first four days, Pero was treated like he belonged with these people. He still didn’t quite know where he was. If someone were to give him a map, he couldn’t tell them, but he knew he was probably at the top somewhere. He was shocked at how much he liked it there despite the bitter cold.

He felt eyes on him the whole time and he didn’t like the feeling, but he understood it.

He taught Sigrid and some of the children some Spanish words and in turn he was taught some words in their tongue. Norse, he was told.

Pero also found himself helping the warriors Sigrid mentioned before, called Vikingr. Their job was to sail to faraway lands, raid strangers of their belongings, and bring it back home. He didn’t judge. He’d done worse, and frankly, it sounded like something right up his alley. He mostly helped with keeping their longships cleaned for their next raid when the snow thawed.

And he ate. He ate a lot. There was so much food at the feasts in the evenings. He tried to eat as much as he could in the hopes that it would carry him on his journey home. Wherever that was. Every feast started with a chant and “offerings” to their Gods. Some of these “offerings” came in the form of the mead Pero had - reluctantly - grown to like, and other times it came in the form of one of the farmer’s poor goats.

While he didn’t understand a lot of these people’s customs, he couldn’t deny it, they were a hearty people.

He’d also caught the eye of some of the women there, too, but he mostly ignored them. They were all too young for him, and he was too busy not getting killed. He still wasn’t given back his weapons. Or the strange stone. His wound would take a while to heal yet, but he could put pressure on it again.

On the fifth day, he was helping chop wood for people’s homes. During the feast, everyone in the village congregated in the Jarl’s home to be surrounded by the fire given by the Jól Log and enjoy the food, but they all needed wood for their own homes as well.

He stopped to take a break and wiped the sweat from his brow as a cool chill blew past him. Pero looked to his left, the feeling of someone looking at him catching his attention. When he saw it wasn’t one of Ingvar’s men, he startled a little. It was a woman. Older than the ones that mostly watched him, and far more… Interesting. To him, at least. He raised a brow as she turned and left, clutching her basket closer to her body. He’d seen her around during his time there and she seemed to keep mostly to herself. She was unattached from what he could tell, and wondered why. She was beautiful.

Pero snapped himself out of it and shook his head, going back to chopping the wood.

On the sixth day, he saw her again. He’d asked Sigrid what her name was as he saw her making her way through the market, and she said it was Helga.

Helga.

He liked the name.

Helga was a thread-weaver. She made blankets, scarves, anything to keep one warm and covered. Pero was given clothing that suited the temperature better, and he felt strange without his armor, but he was never given a scarf. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted one before now.

He asked Sigrid if she could ask Helga for him for a scarf, and the girl giggled, pushing him toward the woman. He sighed and walked over to her, looking at the weapons and tools surrounding them at the market. He tried not to make himself too obvious, and it mostly worked, he thought. He was genuinely impressed with the craftsmanship of the weapons.

Pero sidled up to Helga’s side, but before he could say anything, she stepped away from the stand and walked back to her house. He watched her go and frowned.

This was going to be tougher than he thought.

The seventh day was much like the day before, but instead of chopping wood, Pero was asked to help around the Jarl’s home. He noticed a lot of the young women that stared at him worked there, so he tried to keep mostly to himself. He’d never cleaned linens or blankets before, but found it to be quite relaxing. There was a rhythm to it, and he could do it without much help.

“Tovar,” a young voice asked from his left. He looked up, finishing the fold of the blanket he was holding. He grunted in acknowledgement. “Jeg og noen av kvinnene har lurt på noe,” the girl was blushing hard up to her ears and biting her lip. (Some of the women and I have been wondering something.)

Pero smirked a little and nodded for her to continue. He picked up on the gist of what she was saying, thanks to Sigrid’s teachings of Norse.

“Hvor fikk du arret fra?” she asked meekly. (Where did you get your scar?)

Pero’s face pinched slightly and he shook his head. “I do not wish to talk about it.” The girl’s eyes went wide and she started scrambling out apologies, her hand pressed to her chest. A sad smile crossed his features before he shook his head. “It is okay,” he said quietly.

The girl frowned, cheeks bright red, but nodded as she turned and left. Pero exhaled quietly and looked down at the linens he was folding.

“I do not believe she meant any harm,” a low, feminine voice said to his left. He hummed in acknowledgement before he froze, realizing that she spoke perfect English. He turned his head and nearly jumped out of his boots when he saw Helga standing there. She smiled and started helping him with the linens. “Tovar, yes?”

Pero huffed a laugh and nodded.

“I have noticed you watching me.” She had a soft smile on her lips, brown hair pulled away from her face in a braid. She turned to look at him, blue eyes full of heat as she looked over his face and chest.

Pero blinked, eyes slightly wider. He went to speak, but all that came out was a croak, making him cough. “Apologies,” he wheezed, the side of his fist pressed to his chest. “I am sorry for staring,” he mumbled, turning back to his own linens as his cheeks flushed. “I am still getting used to the customs here. There are two days left of your celebration, and I will be gone.”

Helga hummed noncommittally and pushed her small stack of folded linens toward him to add to his pile. “That would be a shame.”

Pero furrowed his brows and added her stack to his. He looked at her incredulously, but her head was faced down as she continued folding. He didn’t say anything and continued as well, his thoughts running a mile a minute.

“I thought only Sigrid and a few of the children spoke English,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“They are not the only ones.”

Pero snorted and shook his head. “Clearly not,” he hummed to himself. He cleared his throat and glanced at her before continuing. “When I arrived at this place, I was in the forest. I am not sure how far it is from here, but I saw an old man,” he started, keeping his eyes downward. “I was hoping I would see him here in the village, but I have not.”

Helga hummed a noise for him to continue.

“He wore a cloak, the hood covering his head. He sat in front of my campfire, but I only saw one of his eyes,” Pero’s brows furrowed further, confusion filling his head. “I am not sure if he was missing one or if it was covered.”

Helga stopped folding and looked at him, a small smirk on her lips. “Did he have a long beard?”

Pero looked up and blinked. “Y-yes. You have seen this man?”

“Once or twice,” she said. “He is a wanderer. He does not stay in one place for very long.”

“Who is he?”

Helga bit her lip and shrugged. “He has many names. We cannot be certain which he likes best.”

Pero sighed in frustration. “Why was he at my camp?”

Helga smirked again and finished folding her linens. “Perhaps he was looking out for you,” she shrugged again, leaning over to pick up her basket of fabrics. “Enjoy the feast tonight.” She grinned and left the Jarl’s home, leaving Pero quiet and watching her retreating form.

Pero exhaled and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. When he looked down, there was a scarf folded on top of her pile of linens.

“Du får tingene dine i morgen, etter den siste festen,” Ingvar grumbled. (You will receive your belongings after tomorrow’s final feast.)

“Must I stay the whole time? I wish to return home,” Pero growled, crossing his arms over his chest. Not that he had a home to return to.

Ingvar rolled his eyes and waved him off. Sigrid grabbed his elbow and pulled him out of the Jarl’s bedroom. Pero grumbled obscenities in Spanish to himself until he was sat at a table in the hall. It was the eighth night, and he was getting tired of being watched constantly. He had no intention of hurting anyone here. He might if they didn’t give him his things, though. The people around him continued to have the same energy this night that they always seemed to. He supposed that came from actually understanding what you were celebrating, and not having to worry about death or arrest at every corner.

“You leave tomorrow evening, yes?”

Pero startled and looked to his right. Helga sat next to him, a plate of food in front of her. She smiled warmly at him and he softened. “How do you do that?” He huffed a laugh and shook his head before grabbing a piece of meat and eating it.

“You do not pay attention,” she said simply.

He squinted his eyes at her and grumbled around his food that he did too pay attention, thank you very much. She laughed softly and it made him bite his tongue. She had been nothing but kind to him while he was there and she didn’t deserve the frustration he felt to be forced on her.

“Where do you live?” Helga asked softly. “Where will you go?”

Pero bit his lip as he tore a piece of bread in two. “Nowhere. I am a mercenary. I go where the work is,” he shrugged, shoving the bread in his mouth.

“You enjoy this?”

Pero raised a brow as he chewed.

“You like not having anywhere to call home? You do not have to leave,” she hummed around her own food, taking a drink of some mead.

“What do you mean? Of course I do,” he scoffed. “Ingvar wants me dead. His men are constantly watching me.”

Helga rolled her eyes. “You really do not pay attention,” she sighed, setting down her cup and turning to face him. “You have not heard how people talk about you?”

“I am still learning the language,” he frowned, chewing messily and lips greasy.

“Why are you learning the language if you want to leave?”

Pero blinked and looked down at his plate. He frowned, thinking about it. Why was he learning the language?

“Because you like it here, Tovar,” she said softly. “We like you.” It went unsaid, but he got the feeling that she liked him, too.

“Pero.”

“What?”

“My name is Pero.”

Helga smiled, pink dusting her cheeks. “I do not think you will have many people protesting if you stay. The children love you. And I think you would make an excellent Viking.”

Pero raised a brow and exhaled, thinking about it. Having a place to call his own would be nice. And he was familiar with the kind of work the warriors did, from what he’d heard.

“You do not have long to think about it, Pero,” Helga hummed. She picked up her plate and stood before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “I would like it if you stayed,” she whispered into his ear. He looked up at her with soft eyes and she smiled down at him with her hand on his shoulder before turning and leaving.

Pero shut his eyes and exhaled once again, then looked in the direction of the Jarl’s personal quarters.

Would it be such a terrible thing to stay?

On the ninth day, Pero woke with a startle. He thought he’d heard a whisper next to his ear again. He’d been mostly dreamless while he was in the village. Last night, after his talk with Helga, he dreamt about the old man and the wolf in the woods. He didn’t understand any of it, and he barely remembered what the dream actually entailed, but he remembered the feeling. He felt… odd. Not bad or wrong. Just… different. Comforting.

As he got dressed in the clothes that were given to him, he looked over at the scarf Helga gave him. It was a brown color and the material was rough, but also thick and soft. It kept his ears warm. He wrapped it around his neck before slipping his feet into his boots, making sure to be careful of his injured one. He made his way over to the Jarl’s quarters and knocked on the door.

“Er du sikker?” (Are you sure?)

Pero nodded, arms crossed over his chest. “Yes.”

Ingvar sighed and crossed his arms, too. “Du forvirrer meg, Tovar. Men hvis dette virkelig er det du vil, tror jeg ikke at jeg ser noe problem med det.” He shrugged and looked at Sigrid’s smiling face. “Gå og hent tingene hans.” (You confuse me, Tovar. But if this is truly what you want, I don’t suppose I see a problem with it. Go get his things.)

Sigrid nodded happily and ran from the room. Pero and Ingvar awkwardly avoided eye contact. Even if neither of them were enemies, the circumstances of their acquaintanceship were less than ideal. When Sigrid returned, she was carrying Pero’s weapons in both arms and looked to be struggling to do so.

Pero furrowed his brows and gently took the weapons from her. She sighed in relief, but smiled shyly up at him. “I am happy you decided to stay,” she giggled.

Pero smiled down at her, then gave a grateful nod to Ingvar before leaving the room. Sigrid walked next to him while he attached his sword and hunting knife to his belt. He carried the armor under his left arm. “Me too,” he grunted awkwardly. “I am unsure how I will fit in, but…” He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

“I think you will be fine,” she nodded, sure of herself. One of the small children, a younger brother of hers he found out, came up to her and tugged on her dress. He mumbled something Pero didn’t quite catch. Sigrid tapped on his shoulder to get Pero’s attention, making him look down at the two of them, dark eyes intimidating, but soft. “She lives at the end of the village,” Sigrid winked, then took off with her younger brother.

Pero’s cheeks flushed, but he chuckled to himself. He made his way through the village, waving or nodding to people as he saw them. It was strange, being accepted as he was. He wasn’t the only gruff and hardened warrior here, and no one seemed scared of him for his scars or his accent. The feeling was so foreign to him.

As he walked up a small hill toward the end of the village, he heard a quiet thud against the grass. He looked down and saw the strange stone from the forest laying there. Right, he’d completely forgotten. It must’ve fallen from his belongings. He picked it up and looked at it, thumbs running over the strange markings. It was almost shaped like a fork, but with three prongs. Maybe Helga would know what it meant.

When he made his way in front of the door of the last house in the village, he hesitated before knocking. The sun was slowly setting and it was getting a tad colder, so he eventually knocked.

“Et øyeblikk!” (One moment!)

Pero smiled to himself as he heard her voice behind the door. Once the door opened, he raised his head and smiled sheepishly, the shape on his face still foreign to him.

Helga’s face softened as she saw him and rested a hand on her hip. “Well, come on in, then,” she grinned, opening the door wider for him. He nodded gratefully and stepped inside her home, the smells of burnt leaves and the feeling of a warm fire engulfing his body.

“I will find my own home, you need not keep me here if–”

“Hush,” she chuckled softly, taking his armor from his arms and putting it in her bedroom for cleaning later. “You are more than welcome to stay here,” she looked up at him with a bit of shyness. The first time she’d ever looked at him like that. “If you want to, that is.”

Pero took two steps closer to her until his face was mere inches from her own. “I want nothing more,” he said softly, rubbing the knuckle of his index finger against her cheek. She shut her eyes and exhaled softly, nodding.

“I was just getting ready to go to the feast,” Helga smiled, looking up at him. “Would you like to join me?”

Pero’s lips quirked up into a soft smile of his own before he remembered the stone he was holding. “Yes, but first,” his brows furrowed in thought. “It is silly, but… I found this strange stone while I was in the forest.”

Helga hummed and tilted her head to the side, letting him continue.

“It has a marking I have never seen before. Do you know what it means?” He asked, showing her the stone lying in the palm of his hand. She picked it up and rubbed her thumb over the marking like he had before.

“Where did you find this?” Helga asked, face pinched in confusion.

“In the forest. There was a small clearing with a bloodstained stone, and–”

“The ritual site,” she smiled up at him, clutching the stone in her hand. “We sacrificed one of the cows on the first day of Jól there.”

Pero blinked down at her, hands holding her arms and rubbing softly. “I see…”

Helga laughed softly. “You’ll get used to it,” she winked. “This is one of the runes. It seems we forgot one.”

“What does it mean?” He hummed, cupping her face in his large hand. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek.

“Protection,” she said softly. She looked at his lips, then looked back up at his eyes. He did the same and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. They stayed there for a few moments before he released her and pressed his forehead against hers.

“Surely the feast can wait a few moments,” he growled into her neck, kissing against the soft skin there. Helga bit her lip and smiled, fingers tangling into the thick curls at the back of his head.

“It can,” she gasped, startled by the small nip he left against her shoulder. Pero slowly walked them toward her bedroom and laid her on top of the bed. The curtains in front of the window were drawn. Something caught his eye in the window and he looked out, hovering over Helga’s body.

In the distance, on top of a hill, was a large black wolf. It seemed to make eye contact with him before it turned and left.

A chill ran down Pero’s spine.

a/n: if you're at all curious, here's a decent idea of what i imagined the stone to look like 🥰

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x ofc #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #12 days of pedro #12dop #oaksfics

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