#sooo ye

Five: I think I'm going to shoot myself.

fergus macleod was once an orphan, left by his mother to fend for himself in the merciless lands of mercia when ragnar & his men first arrived to plunder & raid. he was only a boy when the norsemen first ventured into new lands, hiding under a bed in one of the priest’s chambers. the men stomped through the monastery like rolling thunder & left a lasting impression on the boy. years later, when they returned, he was much taller & a hiding was much more difficult, so they took him back to norway this time to be sold as a slave. the cold climate was a challenge at first, as was the native’s harsh treatment, but fergus was good at adapting. 

he wasn’t the only one they brought over from mercia, the others were much older though, some were priests - some were ordinary farmers. they were all sold, handed out as gifts to the local townspeople, but fergus was treated a special prize. why? if only he knew. they dressed him up & put a leash around his neck. he was handed off to an old blacksmith, an armorer who had been looking for an apprentice for long, yet most boys in town had run off to fight in war & either found valhalla or joined the raider groups. there was no honor to be found carving armor. 

the man had little patience, a foul temper & seemingly no heart, but he gave him a roof over his head, some food & water. other slaves had been less lucky he knew. he barely understood the man, they were communicating with gestures, fingers pointed, but as weeks passed, he was learning. fergus had always been a quick study if given the chance, which had not been the case on all that many occasions. the man though, leif, was willing to teach him his work & fergus found he enjoyed it greatly. 

years later, the old man passed (in battle of course) & he took over his shop, by now all too familiar with the native tongue & a vital part in the town’s infrastructure, he was content with life for the first time since he was a little boy.