“are you gonna be a good girl and pray me away?” he continues, and you think you can see something moving from one dark corner of the room to the other. maybe it’s your tired mind conjuring up hallucinations, or maybe those are his curls against the faint warmth of the candle. you’ve never seen a single depiction of the devil having curls, but what do you know? nothing, apparently. the sunday school at church never taught you shit.

“uh-oh. is that a swear word i’m hearing in your pretty thoughts?”

you clamp a dampened palm over your mouth, as if you’re actually afraid you said that out loud. you didn’t – mattheo is reading your thoughts, as usual. but it still sends a wave of shame through your prim and pristine brain. and he relishes in it.

“oh, come on. don’t be shy, sweetheart. you can say it, i won’t bite.” you can almost hear him rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “unless you want me to? i can arrange that.”

a bead of sweat rolls down your temple when you notice the shadow – and it’s there, it’s undoubtedly there – moving closer, getting clearer. it is him, but you knew that already. mattheo stops just at the foot of your bed. you can’t distinguish any of his features yet, but it won’t be long before you will be able to.

“so, sweet girl… what’s it gonna be, huh?”

Thorkell noticed your sudden change in attitude and chuckled playfully at your shyness. He turned toward your gaze and realized what was happening. He smiled mischievously and stood tall.

"Everyone, out! Our queen needs privacy," he demanded with a deep, powerful voice that echoed in the room.

You watched as everyone present left immediately, almost running. "I am not your queen," you murmured, glancing at him sideways.

"Soon you will be," he affirmed, grabbing your wrist with a firm grip that hurt you a little due to the force he exerted.

They took a few steps until they reached the throne. He let go of your wrist and turned on his axis to stare at you. He examined you with his eyes and then nodded toward the throne where he had been moments ago.

"Sit there," he demanded with the same dominant voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You were about to refuse. You didn't want to give hope that you'd accept, but neither could you decline; you didn't want to be disrespectful. Besides, Thorkell's gaze intimidated you. You were sure you'd have nightmares about him that night.

You climbed the steps leading to the throne. It was huge, imposing, and beautiful, just like Thorkell. You sat on it; it felt strange. You had always dreamed of being the queen of a nation, and now you had the opportunity, but you felt bad for disobeying God's commands.

You shook your head and clumsily got off the throne, embarrassed by what you had just done.

"I can't, I can't be the queen of Dantohira, Your Majesty," you apologized insistently, looking down in a gesture of submission and respect so that Thorkell wouldn't take it as an offense.

"Damn it!... Could you explain why you're forbidden to marry me?" He grunted angrily, one of his hands resting on his head, rubbing his temple.

You played with your hair, trying to calm your nerves a bit. "We're different... You believe in pagan gods, and don't take it the wrong way, Your Majesty," you said. "It's just that I am faithful to my God, my Lord, and I know that it won't please Him for me to join someone who doesn't love Him. Besides other differences..."

"Name them," he replied sharply, staring at you intently.

You sighed nervously, still not ready to have a discussion with the King. "I don't like your customs... I wouldn't like to marry a man who has several women, or a bloodthirsty man. I'd be in constant fear."

Thorkell approached you, this time respecting your space.

"You'll be the only one. I'll never look at other women, and if I do, I promise to gouge out both my eyes."

You chuckled a bit, charmed by what he had just said.

"That would be very nice, but... even so, you would still worship other gods," you looked at him sadly, noticing his attempt to maintain the marriage proposal.

"I'm not asking you to give up what you do for me-" You were interrupted by Thorkell's sudden action.

Thorkell turned around, leaning on the royal throne, grunting.

"Teach me about your God," he grumbled.

°१९*०°

"Then are you going to become a Christian now or something? I never imagined you doing something like this for someone, Thorkell." Tyr, Thorkell's younger brother, mocked him and his infatuation with you.

"Shut the damn mouth, Tyr," Thorkell growled, fed up with his brother's mockery.

"Brother, understand me, you've never been interested in a woman, and now you're doing these stupid things for a Christian girl. I'm starting to think she's a witch or something," he joked again, bursting into loud laughter.

"Anyway, that girl is quite pretty, I don't believe she's still a virgin... surely she's already slept with some lad over there," mentioned one of the guards who was close to Tyr. He was about to burst into loud laughter until Thorkell punched him, causing him to fall to the ground.

"Don't you dare talk nonsense about her, you useless," Thorkell growled as he kicked the guard's face forcefully.

"If she comes out of your mouth again, I'll knock out all your teeth, got it?"

Tyr grabbed Thorkell to prevent more blows, smirked mockingly, and looked at Thorkell.

"You see what I mean? You're more aggressive than usual, and it's because of that girl."

The first thing Grace noticed was that Enni had somehow managed to get herself stuck.

Again.

The five-year-old sat halfway up the climbing frame with the expression of someone who had just realized that actions had consequences, which was unfortunate because Grace was beginning to suspect Enni learned that lesson every single day and immediately forgot it again.

"Grace!"

Grace looked up from the bench she had been sitting on, lowering the book she'd been pretending to read for the last ten minutes.

"What did you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything."

"You sound guilty."

Enni gasped dramatically and pressed a hand to her chest.

"I am not guilty."

"That's exactly what guilty people say."

Around them, a few of the younger kids laughed.

The playground behind the group home was never quiet. Someone was always running, shouting, crying, laughing, arguing, or inventing a completely unnecessary crisis. Grace had gotten used to it months ago. Sometimes she even liked it.

Most days.

Today included.

The weather was nice for once, the sky was clear, and nobody had started bleeding yet. By group home standards, that counted as a success.

"Come help me."

Grace sighed as if the request was a terrible inconvenience, though they both knew she was already getting up.

"You know, Enni, one day you're going to have to stop treating every piece of playground equipment like an extreme sport."

"It's not my fault."

"Whose fault is it then?"

"The climbing frame's."

"Of course."

By the time she helped the little girl back onto solid ground, Enni was already smiling again, completely unbothered by her near-tragic encounter with gravity.

Grace watched her sprint away and shook her head.

Children were terrifying.

A soccer ball rolled across the pavement and bumped gently into her shoe.

She didn't even need to look up.

"Ethan."

"Throw it back."

"Ask nicely."

"No."

"Then no."

Ethan groaned dramatically from across the field while several younger boys immediately started laughing.

"You are literally the worst."

"And yet you keep talking to me."

The ball hit him square in the chest a second later.

His offended yell echoed across the playground.

Grace considered that a successful interaction.

The afternoon passed like most afternoons did. She helped a seven-year-old find a missing jacket that had somehow ended up on the roof of a play structure, listened to Enni explain in great detail why the slide was haunted, and spent twenty minutes losing an argument to a nine-year-old who insisted dinosaurs would have survived if they had access to modern medicine.

Eventually one of the caretakers opened the back door.

"Dinner in fifteen minutes!"

A collective groan spread through the playground.

Apparently everyone had forgotten they were hungry. Grace joined the slow migration back toward the building, Enni attached firmly to her side.

The inside of the group home smelled faintly of laundry detergent, old books, and whatever was being served for dinner.

Home.

Not forever.

But home.

At least for now.

The dining hall slowly filled with conversation as everyone settled into their usual places. Grace grabbed a tray before making her way toward one of the tables near the windows where Ethan and two other teenagers were already sitting.

"You're late," Ethan informed her.

"I was busy preventing Enni from launching herself into orbit."

"That's fair."

Grace sat down.

"What are we eating?"

"Something with pasta."

"Beautiful."

Mia glanced up from her phone.

"You say that every time."

"And every time I mean it."

"Your standards are concerning."

"My standards are realistic."

Dinner conversations in the group home rarely stayed on one topic for long.

Homework became gossip. Gossip became complaints. Complaints became arguments. Arguments became jokes. Today was no different.

By the time Grace had finished half her food, the conversation had somehow drifted toward the Avengers. Again. Everyone had seen the news about another succesful mission.

"They're overrated," Ethan declared.

Grace nearly dropped her fork.

"I'm sorry, what the Flip?"

"They're overrated."

"You take that back."

"No."

She stared at him in genuine disbelief. Across the table, Mia immediately started laughing.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"You've upset her."

"I have not."

Grace pointed her fork at Ethan.

"You absolutely have."

"Say that again, i dare you."

"They're overrated."

"Okay. That's actually insane."

"They destroy half the city every time they do something."

"They save the city."

"They destroy it first."

"They save it after."

"That's not helping your argument."

Grace ignored him.

"Tony Stark is a genius."

"Tony Stark is rich."

"He can be two things."

The discussion immediately exploded. Everyone started talking at once. Grace loved every second of it. She's glad she found friends in a place like this, after everything that happened.

She'd been fascinated by the Avengers for years. Yes, a lot of people don't like them but she, oh, she reads every article, watches every show there is about them, reads every fanfiction and in her old room, her walls were full of pictures and posters. She doesn't really know why but she always dreamed about being part of something bigger.

"Okay," Mia interrupted. "Important question."

Grace immediately knew this wasn't going anywhere good.

"Which Avenger is the hottest?"

"Oh my God."

"It's an important discussion."

"It absolutely is not."

"It absolutely is."

Ethan pointed across the table.

"Thor."

"Thor?"

"Thor."

Grace considered it.

"I understand the vision."

"Thank you."

"But personally?"

Three pairs of eyes turned toward her.

She smiled.

"Bucky."

The table erupted.

"Oh, come on."

"You're ridiculous."

"No, because hear me out."

"We do not want to hear you out."

"Too late."

Grace sat back in her chair.

"Long hair."

"Grace."

"Metal arm."

"Grace."

"Looks like he could fix a motorcycle."

"GRACE."

"I'm just saying. But i would let him choke me."

Mia laughed so hard she nearly choked.

Ethan looked genuinely disappointed.

"You need help."

"I need honesty."

"That's not honesty."

"That's a gift."

The conversation continued long after dinner ended, drifting from Avengers to school to teachers to whatever random nonsense happened to cross their minds. For a little while, everything felt easy.

Normal.

You were surprised when you saw that there wasn’t a big crowd waiting to welcome you, “Typical”, you muttered snidely to Rose as you walked gracefully, your head held high, “I see the heathens really do have no culture”. 

Rose bit her lip to stop a broad smile from developing on her face, “Behave (Y/N)”. A young man started to approach you and your ensemble, his light brown hair was pulled back into brilliant braids. You noticed there was sparse facial hair dashed across his features. Although you thought him to be quite handsome, you kept your compose as after all he was a Viking.

“Greetings Princess (Y/N), I am Prince Hvitserk. Welcome to Kattegat”, his smile was so wide that you couldn’t help reciprocating it as if it were contagious. You curtsied politely, holding up your skirts and bowing your head, “Greetings Prince Hvitserk, thank you for welcoming me. I am surprised you know my language”, you answered, rising up. You noticed that the young prince now wore a smirk, you tilted your head but didn’t ask questions. “We learnt it from our raids”, he stated, “Follow me, Ivar is waiting”. 

With this he turned on his heel, leaving you to trail behind him. 

Smoothly picking your skirts up once again you followed after Hvitserk, trying your best to stay collected as now the people of Kattegat were watching you as you made your way to the Great Hall. Each step became harder like there was a growing weight inside each of your legs, you could feel the increasing anxiety becoming more and more present the closer you got. 

Subtly you reached out and brushed Rose’s hand, sending her a worried glance. Rose smiled at you, giving you an encouraging nod although it did little to sate your nerves. Hvitserk was the first to enter the hall: the doors were opened for him and the heat from inside hit you like the warmth from a baker’s oven. You continued to follow Hvitserk and you couldn’t of been a few feet inside when he stopped, causing you to stop also. You watched as, (what you assumed were servants women), reached out and took the furs from his shoulders, they did the same for you.

“Ivar!”, Hvitserk suddenly called out heartily, “Your princess has arrived!”. The prince then turned to you and gestured for you to move forward.

Reluctantly you followed his instructions. You carried yourself like you would’ve back home as if you were walking in your father’s court. Your head was held high, your long (H/C) neatly framed your face, you crossed your hands and delicately held them in front of you as you coolly walked towards the young man sat on a throne, the seat next to him was vacant.

The first thing you noticed was his icy blue eyes that seemed to shine in the dully lit room. You could feel the cold coming from behind them, it was abundantly evident in his stare as he watched you approach. A blank expression was written on his face as he sat proudly in his throne, his hair was darker than his brother’s and shorter, but the braids were just as beautiful. You couldn’t deny it, he was wonderfully attractive, although this thought caused revulsion and you had to hold back an involuntary shiver. Clearly there was Pagan magic at work here, you reasoned. You noticed that he wore strange metal plates on his legs, but now was not the time to question as you were finally close to him. 

“My King”, you spoke clearly, greeting him with the same curtsy you’d offered Hvitserk, “I am Princess (Y/N) of England”. This seemed to amuse him as an unsettling grin took form on his face, “Welcome to Kattegat, Princess (Y/N)”, he repeated as if he were testing out the new name. You would never admit it, but somewhere deep down, you liked the way he made it sound. “We don’t do...that here”, he gestured to your curtsy, “Although maybe we should”. You smiled politely at him and that was all you offered, you were far too afraid to indulge him in conversation.

Finally, you stopped walking alongside the guards, facing an immense wooden door. One guard effortlessly opened it, and for the first time, the other guard addressed you.

"Please, this way, miss. King Thorkell is waiting for you," he gestured with his hand for you to enter, offering a faint smile.

"Thank you, sir," you expressed your gratitude, delicately bowing your head to display your manners.

You sighed, closing your eyes, nervous. You walked slowly forward, feeling your legs tremble, your stomach churn, and a nauseating sensation. Upon lifting your gaze, a pang shot through your torso. The mighty King Thorkell stared at you intently, with a lethal gaze, as if he could see your sins. You swallowed hard and, with great effort, made a bow, inclining your body forward.

"King Thorkell."

°१९*०°

She entered the hall escorted by the guards I assigned and I noticed how her whole body trembled as she approached me. Her fear was evident, and I relished in her submission.

I knew she was Christian; they were very ignorant and weak in this world. I despised all those idiots, but the woman in front of me seemed different. Clearly, the ideals she sought in a partner were not ones I could offer, and her innocence was remarkable, her beautiful eyes looking at me with fear and obedience... she was so charming that I desired her for myself in that very moment.

"King Thorkell." I felt a tingling down my back as I heard her sweet voice. I cursed myself for summoning her so soon; I should have prepared for her.

°१९*०°

Your eyes fixated on his bulging muscles, evident even through his clothing. You swallowed hard, realizing the thoughts you had; a Viking could never interest you.

"The wedding will take place as soon as possible, so you shouldn't worry about that. From now on, you will reside in the palace, and a separate chamber will be assigned to you until you adapt. Do you understand, miss?"

You sensed his arrogance in his final words, and you clenched your fist a bit tighter. "How disrespectful," you muttered to yourself.

"King, if you allow me, I have something to say..." You wanted to clear your throat upon hearing your trembling voice. "Speak quickly, I don't have much time."

It was your first conversation, and you truly detested how he addressed you, but you chose to ignore it and demonstrate that you indeed had manners.

"I do not wish to marry you, Your Majesty."

At that moment, pride surged within you. Your words sounded so serious that you felt proud of yourself.

"I don't say it to offend you, only that it goes against my values to unite with..." You paused, carefully choosing your words to avoid upsetting him. "Someone like you."

You saw his jaw tense, and you took a step back when he rose from his throne and slowly walked towards you, his face filled with hatred. You stopped abruptly, colliding with a nearby column, finding yourself cornered by Thorkell.

He leaned towards you, the noticeable difference in height between you two, positioning himself right in front of your face, too close for comfort.

Just before, you were walking and laughing together in the woods. You thought he would finally confess his love to you, as you were sure it was reciprocated. Suddenly, he stood in front of you to reveal that he and his family were vampires. It wasn't the confession you expected, and fear invaded you upon discovering that the boy you liked was a dark being. You tried to escape from him, but now you found yourself in an even more compromising situation.

"Let me go!" you shouted, terrified. "You're a beast, stay away!" Your fear of vampires was immense due to warnings about their danger in the church.

He growled, not out of anger but frustration. "Please, don't say that," he pleaded. "Darling, I've loved you since I first saw you. I would never hurt you," he assured, looking intensely at you.

"I know you fear me for being a vampire, but you know me. In all this time, I've never done anything to harm you, and I won't now."

Even with fear in your eyes, you didn't know whether to believe him. For a year, you were friends, and indeed, he hadn't shown any strange behavior towards you. Your body relaxed a bit as you reflected on his words.

"Come on, little one... I even went to church with you. They liked me," he mentioned with a playful smile. "I even read the Bible with you, I know you love doing that," he said sweetly, moving to help you up.

"I like you too, Emmett," you confessed in a whisper, nervously.

"What did you say?" he asked playfully, knowing he had heard you but enjoying seeing you flustered.

"Nothing," you replied, embarrassed, trying to stand up, but Emmett held you by the waist, gauging his strength to avoid hurting you.

"I love you, little one," he said before giving you a tender kiss on the lips.