The Immortality Legend (Viking! Norway x Reader)

The Immortality Legend

The Immortality Legend (Viking!Norway x Reader)


~Third person POV~


It all began a long, long time ago. Vikings ruled the Nordic countries, while pirates conquered the European seas. By the time the Vikings had realized that there were more valuable treasures hidden amongst the vast seas than on the land, the pirates had already captured most of it. There was only ONE treasure that anyone had yet to take control of. 

There were two legends, deeply entwined with each other. The first foretold of a valuable island. The island didn't have a name. It was mysterious yet familiar. Dangerous yet safe. No one had any way to describe it, mostly because no one had ever laid eyes on it. It was told that if someone found the island - and set foot on it's land - they would immediately gain immortality. Although there was no one who knew where it was, the other legend spoke of a girl. This girl would somehow lead whoever's fate it was to find the island, to it. Of course, this was the main reason no one had ever come even close to finding the island. At this particular time the girl was being held captive in a small Norwegian village. She was being kept in a small cell in her captor's basement. She was fed near to nothing. Only enough to be kept 'alive'. 

People thought that if they just found her, they could force her to bring them to the island. But what they didn't know is that only under the kindest of circumstances could she actually bring them in the direction needed, and it needed to be with the one person who's fate was to find the island. The happier she felt, the more of a tug she felt in the direction of the island. She was a part of the island. She herself was immortal and had been alive for as long as the island had. Of course, this was only just a legend at the time. Little did a certain Skeppare (Captain of a vessel) know that the legend was entirely true. Much less that he would be the first and only one to set the girl's powers free. He was the only one smart enough to see what she needed - What it took to attain the reward he had so been longing for. He cared of no one, excluding himself. He was simply doing what was needed to gain his treasure. When he had her in his clutches, he swore up and down it wasn't kindness he was showing to her. Secretly, though, they both knew that kindness was exactly what he was portraying.

You would not have believed he was capable of being nice by just looking at him. He was strong and fierce, at the time. He was one of the greatest vikings to ever live, and just his name was enough to strike fear in the heart's of all of his enemies. He was strictly bent on finding the island. He had no weaknesses. There was no one he had left that he loved, not after his younger brother had died in battle. The young boy's death had hardened his heart. The little emotion that he did show was only hate and anger. He took all of his grief out on the people that he ruled. He led random raids into helpless villages and took slaves, all done ruthlessly. No matter how desperate the person, or their family, was to get away, he didn't care. The same had happened to him. He thought to himself, why shouldn't they have to face the same fate as he did?

He scoffed and paced around the room. It was adorned with dark wooding and his bed was blanketed with the most luxurious of materials. His mapping desk stood proudly in the furthest corner of the room, and in the other corner there were countless treasures of unspeakable value. You'd think that all of his riches would make him happy, but it was not so. he lacked the one thing that could truly warm his icy heart. Love.

 'What is taking them so long? And at such an ungodly hour.... Raids never take them this long. Stupid idiots.' He thought, annoyed. He never went on the raids himself. He never did any of the killing. His Drang (young soldiers), Himthiki (lowest rank of elite soldiers), and Thegn (mature soldiers) never really noticed his lack of killing, and he wasn't about to make it known. He didn't kill for many reasons. But the main one was that, even though he was a fierce young skeppare and he had people do terrible things with his commands, his mind-set was that of a broken child's. He would never speak such childish thoughts out loud, but they still haunted his consciousness, night and day. 'It's wrong to kill. But they killed my only family. It's okay as long as I don't get blood on my own hands, right?' He mentally inquired, but of course, there was no one to answer him. So that was his answer.

"Kaptein! Kaptein!" The loud, obnoxious voice knocked the skeppare out of his thinking. He was immediately both angered and annoyed. 

"You're too loud, stupid idiot! What took you so long, Mathias?" He demanded.

"The reason we're so late, Kaptein Lukas, is right outside your quarters. Believe me, you're going to want to see this...." Mathias answered, ignoring the insult, serious for once.

"This had better be good, or I'll have your head." Lukas growled back. Mathias shivered, even though he knew it was an empty threat. Lukas Bondevik walked towards the door and opened it upon hearing a small whimper and a thud sound from outside the room. Mathias winced. He always was a soft one. He, Lukas, and two other vikings had maintained a close friendship before Emil, Lukas's younger brother, was brutally slaughtered. His name was never mentioned among the party. Never. Saying it resulted in immediate death. Lukas held an emotionless face, locking any pity or mercy he had in his soul, deep within himself. He could NOT afford to look weak.

He pushed Mathias aside, placing his pale hands on his hips, eyeing the.... Creature.... In front of him. She couldn't even be called human anymore. She looked wild, as if she were going to make a run for it at any second, but she seemed to be surprisingly submissive. Her face was twisted up in pain from the impact of the man's boot colliding with her rib cage. One of the other lower-ranked vikings was taunting her and at that moment Lukas felt anger boil up inside of him. The man kicked her again, and Lukas quickly motioned with his hand that enough was enough, although he still kept his usual emotionless, stoic face. The man stepped away, and Lukas slowly approached her. Her dirty (h/c), (h/l) hair tangled uselessly in front of her face, acting as a curtain. The Norwegian man pulled his knife out, knelt down, and placed it under her chin. He watched her flinch, not expecting the touch of the cold blade.

"Se på meg. (Look at me.)" Lukas demanded, his tone dangerously low. The unruly girl lifted her empty gaze towards his face obediently, meeting his own hollow amethyst eyes. He was inwardly enthralled with her own orbs. They were colored simply, a (e/c) color, but there was something behind them. Something long... Deep... Betrayed. Something dangerous. "Hva er ditt navn? (What is your name?)" He asked, his tone still low and warning, but she didn't seem alarmed, afraid, or even angry. This surprised Lukas. He watched as she repeatedly tried to speak, but it seemed as though she couldn't. This seemed to unsettle her, and he could see a bit of fear lacing her eyes as she tried to get her vocal chords to work. He found himself, to his surprise, to not be annoyed, but more patient. It inwardly shocked him, mainly because lately he had been more irritated than usual. His mood was always foul, but ever since his younger brother had died, he had become increasingly impatient and ill-tempered.

"Min.... navn..... er..... (y/n)....." She answered slowly, her voice a bit hoarse. She didn't seem to know how to speak very well. Her voice was delightful, even then, when she had been so very mistreated. Her voice surprised everyone. They were not expecting such a feminine voice to come out of such a frail, weak, disgusting-looking creature. He nodded a bit, making sure that only she could see him. Lukas stood up and faced the Dane.

"Who is she to us? Why, tell me EXACTLY, Mathias, did you bring her back instead of just killing her?" Lukas asked slowly, making sure Mathias processed everything he said.

"We came to kill the owner of the house and he pleaded for his life, saying that if we didn't harm him he had something quite valuable to give us. We agreed, and he took us to the girl. He said she was the girl out of the legend. The one directly connected to the island of immortality." Mathias explained.

"What if he was lying? Did you spare him?" Lukas asked, almost angry at how naive Mathias had been.

"We still killed him. We figured we could give her a trial. Besides, we have nothing to lose if she isn't the girl from the legend. We can always dispose of her later." Mathias pointed out. It annoyed Lukas that the Dane was right. That was exactly what he was thinking of doing. Lukas looked to the girl one last time. Then he looked back up to Mathias and nodded.

"Until we sail to the area the legend describes, she will work as a slave. Make her take the sail down." Lukas ordered. Mathias cringed.

"But, Lukas, she's-" Mathias began to object but Lukas gave him a look that made his blood run cold.

"If you have any objections, Mathias, you can take them to your grave." Lukas warned, his voice taking on a murderous tone. The Danish man swallowed thickly. Maybe he didn't kill, but his threats were still frightening, especially to Mathias, who had known him for quite some time. They had never been on the best of terms.

"Yes, Kaptein..." Mathias answered, and turned to the girl. Lukas didn't waste any more time there. He turned around with a determined scowl on his face and walked back into his quarters, taking his dark aura with him. Mathias gently helped the girl up. He didn't want any part of this, but he couldn't betray Lukas. Not after everything that they had been through - along with a certain Swede and Fin - together. He led her to the wheel she would have to vigorously push to twist the sail into oblivion for the night. She looked at the spoke that she had to push, and then at Mathias, confused.

"What.... Do?" She asked uncertainly. Mathias sighed sadly.

"You push it. Like this." He answered, demonstrating how to do it by putting both hands on the spoke and pushing just a little bit. She nodded. Mathias looked into her eyes for a second. That split second made him jump back, alarmed. Her (e/c) eyes were completely empty. Completely. There wasn't a single emotion in them. She wasn't frustrated... Sad... Angry... There was just... Nothing.... No emotion whatsoever.... She began pushing the spoke, and he could see that it was hard for her to do in her state. Maybe bringing her back with him wasn't the best idea.

~Your POV (At The Time Of The Raid)~

It was dark. Hah, who were you kidding? It was always dark. The cell you were kept in was surrounded by nothing but pitch black shadows. The only light you ever saw was when the man who'd kidnapped you opened the door to 'visit'. There was no way you were getting out of that cell. Ever. Samuel only ever fed you once a weak, and then watched with an amused grin as you wolfed it down. What did he expect when you hadn't eaten in a week? But maybe being locked up in a cell wasn't all that bad. 

Your senses had become increasingly skilled, and you had recently figured out how to hear loud sounds from up to 5 miles away. And at the moment, you could hear things that were quite terrifying to you. There were sounds of people running and screaming, and you could hear the distant roars of blazing fires. You were beginning to get a bit worried for the first time in what seemed like forever. You had been locked up for so long that you had lost count of the days long ago. Suddenly, you heard the door slam open to Samuel's small home. You heard several footsteps rudely enter and then make their way over to where you thought Samuel's bed chamber was. The next events you were able to hear quite well because they were oral.

"Hah, look at this guy, Mathias! He's so pathetically afraid." A man commented. You assumed he was speaking of Samuel. It was true, though. He really was a coward. He didn't know how to handle fear, other than to harness and use it to intimidate others.

"Enough mocking him. Just kill him already. We're supposed to be back by now." The man named Mathias spoke. For some reason his voice seemed to grate on your nerves, although you really didn't know why. 

"My pleasure~" The other man said, slowly pronouncing the last word to where it sounded disgustingly delicious. You could hear Samuel whimpering in fear.

"No... Please! Please don't kill me! In return, I will give you something that has incomparable value!" He offered, desperate. You mentally snarled. Stupid, weak, pathetic man. Since when were you a 'thing'?! Of course, these angry emotions never made their way to your face. You had learned how to keep your emotions hidden long ago. You heard the intruders discuss the matter amongst themselves and then all was silent for a second. Mathias spoke next. 'Please...' You mentally pleaded, hoping he wouldn't answer like you thought he would.

"Alright. Let us see this thing you speak of." He answered, and you shivered. That was exactly what you didn't want to hear. If he would have said no, they would have killed him and moved on, not thinking for a second that you were even there, locked up deep within the house. You would have had a chance to escape and live free of any sort of imprisonment. But no, life was unrelenting. Your fate would always be the same. The freedom that you so craved would never be dealt to you. Whether you liked it or not, your ties to the island really did make you valuable. But they also came with a price.

You listened as their footsteps came closer and closer, echoing down the stairs. You lowered your gaze to your cell's cemented ground and drew your knees up into your arms. The footsteps became incredibly loud and then stopped altogether. You drew in a sharp breath and swallowed thickly. Samuel slammed his fist on the metal bars and you jolted up in pain, covering your ears and crying out. Your (e/c) eyes flew up to meet the black, soulless ones of your captor.

"Y-Yes, master?" You asked meekly, your voice quiet and a bit hoarse. You remembered how to speak very well, but your voice was a bit out of shape. You hadn't used it in such a long time.

"On your feet, girl!" He commanded, and you did as you were told, standing up. You were a bit embarrassed, but you didn't let the emotions reach the surface of your being. Your clothes were torn and dirty, barely concealing your too-skinny, weak, frail body. You curiously glanced up at the intruders and were mildly surprised at what you saw. There were three younger men standing behind who you assumed was Mathias. He had gravity-defying, spiky blonde hair and sapphire blue irises. He looked you up and down, but not in such a way that you felt violated. You could tell that he was trying to hide the emotions, but he was doing a very poor job of that. His gaze was angry, concerned, and disgusted. Possibly not with you, but maybe with the cruelty? But then again, it shouldn't really have affected him if it did. He did, after all, order someone to kill Samuel. And from the madness that you heard earlier, that wasn't the only damage that had been dealt.

You quickly averted your gaze, bowing your head  and looking towards the ground.

"What's so special about a dirty little wretch like her?" One of the men commented and gestured to you. You felt a stab of pain at the insult, but refused to show any sort of acknowledgement. Samuel scoffed.

"Not much. Just that she's the girl from the legend of the island of immortality. You all are vikings, yes? So you should know." Samuel provided smugly. You nearly laughed. What a fool he was! The island wasn't actually an island of immortality! If a person were to set foot on the island, any one wish he or she could possibly think of would immediately become a reality, not just immortality. Not only that, but two other people of his or her choosing would have the same wishes. You mentally sighed. You really wanted someone to take you to the island and make their wishes. Because when they did, you would finally be allowed to die. You had longed for death for such a long time, but since no one had found the island, your torture continued. You were completely immortal until someone set foot on that island. Then, the island would automatically begin your death process and you would die within a matter of minutes. 

There were multiple reasons of why you wanted to die. You didn't necessarily hate humanity, but you had learned that their sole motives were of cruel and greedy roots. You hadn't met one kind soul since your appearance a couple of centuries back. In the beginning, you were naive and trusting. This had led you to be tortured, taunted, mocked, and held captive like you were some sort of wild animal. The problem was, no matter how many times they tried to kill you, they couldn't. But you could still feel pain, which was what they settled for. You had learned your lesson, though. You no longer had any trust to simply hand out. You also wanted to die because living forever wasn't as wonderful and pleasant as it seemed. You had seen enough of the world, and honestly, you were tired of living in it. You had long been ready to die.

At first, you had tried to avoid most people, as to not let them figure out that you were immortal. You wanted to be looked at as normal, just like everybody else. But that thought soon faded away as they discovered you and you were traded like a thing from person to person. It didn't take those who held you long to figure out just who you were. The name of the person who would actually be able to find the island with you was forever tattooed onto your ankle. It was small, but every time someone gained possession of you, they checked to see if their name was there. It never was. Which was what led you to be treated so cruelly. They took their anger and disappointment out on you, like it was all your fault that their name wasn't written on you.

The men stared at you for a couple of seconds and then looked back to Mathias. There was a suspicious look in his blue eyes as he contemplated the decision.

"Eh, let's go ahead and take her! What do we have to lose? Besides, we can always kill her later," Mathias paused to take a breath after the words. You silently chuckled. 'If only you could...' You thought wistfully. "Plus, Lukas can always use another slave." He finished off his decision. Your eyes widened along with Samuel's. 'Lukas' was the name tattooed onto the side of your ankle. Lukas Bondevik.

You watched carefully as Samuel slowly and grudgingly unlocked the cage and opened the barred door for the first time in years. You were eager to get out, but still a bit afraid of the outcome of your freedom. Just how long would it last? What was the world like, now that you were being released? You sighed inwardly. You doubted that anything had changed. Once a cruel world, always a cruel world.

Mathias stepped inside your small, foul-smelling cell and cautiously approached you, although you made no move to alarm him, or to imply that you were going to bolt or attack or something. You looked up at him a bit, parting the (h/c)-haired curtain that covered your face. Seeing that you weren't threatening him, Mathias firmly took hold of your arm. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt. His grasp was light, but stern, letting you know that he wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon. He began to walk and you tried to follow, but stumbled a bit. You weren't used to the sudden pressure that was being applied to your legs. He paused and looked back at you, waiting for you to stabilize yourself. Your legs were shaking terribly, but you managed to take a good three steps out of the cell. Of course, that was when you pitched forward onto your hands and knees.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry...." You meekly apologized, afraid that you might be hit or beaten for your weakness. Right after you mumbled the words, you quickly tried and failed to stand so you could at least defend yourself from the oncoming blows. But they never came. Instead, you felt yourself being effortlessly picked up and hoisted over Mathias's strong shoulder. He didn't say a word about your nakedness or weakness, and for that you were grateful. You noticed that the other three men lingered behind Mathias, even as he began walking. You soon found out why.

"Make sure the man gets his 'prize' for his oh-so-generous gift." Mathias voiced, his tone darker than the one you had been hearing. 

"Of course~" One of the men replied. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ignore Samuel's whimpering as the men crowded around him. You then heard him begging, which quickly turned into screaming. Rather than feeling avenged, you felt awful. Humans were so sick and twisted... Even though the man had done terrible things to you, you still didn't believe it was right for those men to kill him. You believed that murder was murder. No matter what.

Mathias carried you all the way back to the vessel, and then put you down on your knees, telling you to stay. You made a silent agreement that you wouldn't try to escape, one that he seemed to understand. Besides, why would you want to? If your thoughts were right, and this 'Lukas's' fate really was to find the island, then he would be your ticket out. He would be, quite literally, the death of you. And that was exactly what you wanted.

Mathias disappeared from your sight after that. You thought, possibly, to go and find the skeppare of the vessel. Maybe it was that 'Lukas' person that he had mentioned earlier. A couple of the men on the ship observed you, and one of them cockily swaggered over to where you sat.

"Piece of filth, ye are. Ye ever thought of takin' a bath, girl?" He taunted. You didn't answer. Instead you turned away and continued your observations of the deck. This angered him.

"I'm talkin' to ye!!! Don't ignore me, girl!" He yelled and kicked your side, hard, knocking the breath out of your body and causing you to fall from your knees onto your side. This let you see behind the man who was currently beating you and to a door that had just opened, revealing Mathias and someone you couldn't quite see behind him. You watched Mathias wince as the man kicked you again. You gritted your teeth, trying to bear the pain, but you knew you wouldn't be able to handle it. You were weak enough as it was. Mathias was pushed aside by the man behind him. 

He, quite literally, made you catch your breath. He had pale skin and deep amethyst eyes that reflected mystery, yes, but there something much deeper that you couldn't quite grasp onto. His hair reached a bit past his ears and was a light blonde color. He had his seemingly long bangs held back by a Scandinavian cross clip and there was a.... Detached curl? Yes, that was it. Out of all of those unique features, his expression captured most of your interest. He looked bored. Disinterested. Slightly annoyed. But other than that, there was no other look on his face. No pride. No smug smirk. He obviously held respect and leadership from his underlings, but he didn't seem to really care. It surprised you.

The man in front of you reared his leg back once more and kicked your tender abdomen, causing you to cry out. Before you squeezed your (e/c) eyes shut, you saw the mysterious man gesture for your  tormentor to stop. You heard his thick boots quickly step far away from your pained form. You let your (h/c) hair fall in front of your face, trying and failing to sit back up on your knees. So you just laid there, observing your surroundings like you always did; from behind your long, untamed hair. Your eyes glanced up at who seemed to be the skeppare and, for a brief moment, you could have sworn you saw a bit of anger flash in his eyes, directed towards the man who had just kicked you.

His attention was immediately turned back to you, and even though you knew he couldn't have possibly known that you had been observing him from behind all of that unruly (h/c) hair, you still averted your gaze. You watched his boot-clad feet as they approached you ever-so-slowly. The next thing you saw was both of his knees as he knelt down in front of you. You flinched as he placed his knife under your chin. You didn't want to admit it, but you were scared. Violence with sharp objects was something you were very familiar with.

"Se på meg." You heard his low voice command. You were very familiar with all languages, but you were especially acquainted with Norwegian. You had lived in Norway for quite some time, mostly against your will but none-the-less. You usually couldn't bear to look people in the eyes. It was your one weakness. It was a weakness that had cost you greatly. One that you had tried to rid yourself of, but had never been able to. So you always kept your gaze low. Despite this, you obediently looked up at him, meeting his eyes. You nearly gasped, but were able to keep your composure. His eyes were even more interesting up close. It was almost as if you could see his entire life in his eyes. There was so much emotion swirling in them, despite the serious look on his pale face. You kept your feelings and thoughts hidden behind your emotionless mask. What were you thinking? This man was a savage. A monster. He killed people, and all for what? Power? Glory? Such unattainable things, and yet the entire world was hypnotized by those illusions. You despised them.

"Hva er ditt navn?" He asked, his tone still low and warning, but it seemed clear to him as well that you really had no interest in trying anything as risky and stupid as running away. Although he did seem a bit surprised that you weren't afraid. This was mostly because you had been through much, much worse than simply a cold knife at your chin. Another reason was because he hadn't given you a reason to fear him. At least, not yet, anyway. Your voice was still quite unused, and it felt weird to even try to speak. You opened your mouth and closed it repeatedly. You became increasingly distressed at this. 'Work!' You mentally ordered your mouth, knowing that you might be beaten for your ever-stretching silence. Surprisingly, you didn't see the man's gaze falter due to aggravation, and you saw no annoyed glare in his eyes. No anger. No violence. In fact, his eyes s seemed to be expressing patience. As if saying, 'Take your time.'

"Min.... navn..... er..... (y/n)....." You were finally able to say, a little slower than you would have liked. He gave a slight nod that you were sure that only you could see, a surprised look lacing his amethyst eyes at the sound of your voice. You glanced around a bit, seeing the same expression but magnified on everyone else's faces, except Mathias's and the other three men that were with him earlier. 

The rest of the conversation led up to you trying to push the spoke of the wheel that twisted the sail up. Mathias had long walked away from your struggling form. You had to admit, it was incredibly hard for you to do, especially by yourself. It had been a couple of hours, and you were frustrated with the fact that you weren't done. The thing was a whole lot heavier than it looked, being made of mostly heavy metals and a bit of wood. Not only that, but you were extremely weak from being malnourished. You hadn't had water for at least a week, and your last meal was three days ago. 

You struggled yet again to inch the spoke forward, now switching from your torso's strength to your entire body's weight, slamming your body against the spoke, which only helped a little bit. You looked up in irritation and your face paled. The thing was only halfway twisted up. You immediately got angry at yourself, letting it show since everyone else was retired for the evening. Not a living soul remained on the deck, and you let your exasperation surface as you sank to the ground, panting. Tears brimmed in your (e/c) eyes for the first time in years. 

"Why?! Why can't I just do it?! I'm so freaking useless!!! They come to take me exactly where I want to go, and I can't do a thing!!! God!!! God...... Please.... Why? Why was it me? Why was I chosen to live in this horrid Hell? Why couldn't I have lived a normal life? Why?" You let all of your feelings out, letting them mingle with the cool night air and be swept off into the dark night. You pulled your knees up into your arms and began sobbing, your body shaking uncontrollably. It was  cold outside, and you were still wearing the tattered rags that had been thrown at you nine years earlier. You just wanted a normal life. Was that too much to ask for? When people still hadn't known of your immortality, you had been aware of the stories of the girls who lived normal lives. They met other young men who captured their hearts and interest. They either lived happily ever after or got their hearts torn in two. You wanted that. Even that kind of pain had to have been better than what you had been going through for most of your life.

"Hey, what are you doing?" You jolted up and onto your feet as quickly as you could upon hearing the voice make itself known. How did you not notice that someone was there?! Your feelings had been getting the better of you. 

"I-I'm sorry! It w-won't happen a-again!" You quickly apologized, keeping your gaze low, not realizing that there were tears still streaming out of your eyes. You quickly scrambled to continue with the job that had been given to you, not thinking about who had caught you. You were far too scared to look.

~Lukas's POV~

I finished up counting up the day's stolen earnings and stretched, closing my eyes for a brief second. I wasn't really tired, so I didn't immediately get up and walk over to my bed like I usually did. Suddenly, I realized something. Mathias would've called me in as soon as (y/n) had finished twisting the sail up... But he never did. Did he just forget? It wouldn't have surprised me. The stupid Dane was careless most of the time anyway. But it seemed especially unlikely that anyone else could have forgotten about her. Especially Tino and Berwald. I had asked them to check up on her for the remainder of the day, as well, until they went to bed. I didn't want any of the other vikings hurting her like earlier. But even they didn't tell me anything.

I stood up from the desk I was working at and walked over to the window that I had placed into my quarters recently. I wasn't expecting what I saw. The girl was still at it, pushing as hard as she could against the spoke that barely seemed to move at all. I quietly opened the door to my room and walked out, making sure that my boots were silent against the wooden boards and that I was concealed in the dark shadows of the vessel. She kept trying to push it, harder and harder it seemed, and she even tried shoving herself against it a couple of times, probably earning some bruises. She groaned lightly and looked up at the sail. Her (e/c) eyes widened. She had only just then realized that the sail was only half way twisted up. I watched, alarmed, as she sank to the ground, shoving her face into her hands.

"Why?! Why can't I just do it?! I'm so freaking useless!!! They come to take me exactly where I want to go, and I can't do a thing!!! God!!! God...... Please.... Why? Why was it me? Why was I chosen to live in this horrid Hell? Why couldn't I have lived a normal life? Why?" She said aloud, tears spilling out of her eyes. That was the most emotion that I had seen her show yet, and it wasn't for the better. I felt guilty. I should have at least made sure that someone helped her... Or even given her some food and water. But no... What did I do? Like a foolish child, I completely disregarded her needs and put her to work. As a skeppare, I did the right thing, but as a person... I did the exact opposite. And what did she mean by all of that? It didn't make sense to me at the time. 

I watched as she curled up into a fetal position on her side and began shivering. She didn't even have appropriate clothing. I finally had enough of just watching her. I couldn't just stand by and watch her suffer. Besides, no one would know that I helped her, anyway. No one ever woke up in the middle of the night. I knew that to be a fact, mostly because there were times when I couldn't sleep at night... Even though Emil was gone, he still haunted my thoughts. It was almost as if he was saying, 'What you're doing is wrong, and you know it.' Or maybe that was just the feeling that I got. When that happened, I would get up and roam the ship. The sounds of the ocean always made me feel at peace and calm. I felt reassured. The night was still young, and there was plenty of time til the morning.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I finally made myself known, stepping out of the shadows. She practically jumped to her feet, stumbling a bit. 

"I-I'm sorry! It w-won't happen a-again!" She didn't even bother to look at me before apologizing, but I could still see her face, and the tears running down it. Something strange happened. My heart ached for her. I immediately shook the feeling away, shaking my head as she turned back to the spoke and tried pushing it again. I got a little angry. Was she seriously still going to try with that? No. I refused to let her continue in the state she was in.

~Back to Your POV~

You felt a cold hand grip your arm and you flinched as you were whirled around, away from your task. Fear shot through your veins and you squeezed your eyes shut and tensing up. You opened one eye, and then another and came face-to-face with Lukas. This made you feel even worse.

"I-I'm really, really sorry! Please! Please don't hurt me!" You pleaded softly. His eyes widened a bit, and you saw a flash of anger in them, just like earlier, but the anger faded into confusion and compassion. You were surprised, because he didn't seem like the type to genuinely care about others. You momentarily pondered this, but looked away before you really had a chance to think about it, still waiting for him to chastise you. You squeezed your (e/c) eyes shut. He was silent for a moment.

"You really need to quit doing that." He spoke, his voice surprisingly softer than you had ever heard it.

"Q-Quit doing... W-What?" You slowly answered, afraid that your innocent question might anger him. His hand met your face, but not the way you expected it to. You flinched as he used his thumb to wipe away the tears that had lingered on your cheeks. You felt your face heat up from the unexpected touch, but you dared not to pull away. 'W-What is this? What is he doing?' You thought.

"Apologizing. Especially to me. Don't apologize to anyone, no matter how much trouble you think you're being." He answered, commanding you. Your (e/c) eyes widened. You looked down and away again and nodded, trying to hide yourself as best you could. He was so close, and you felt like that was the only way that you could avoid contact with him. You felt his fingers trail from your cheek, to your jawline, and then they slid under your chin and tilted your head back up.

"And that's another thing you need to stop doing. You keep looking away, every time you see someone. You immediately turn away." He scolded you. You blushed, finding it hard to look away now that his eyes were gazing intently into yours, but you still felt like hiding. You doubted he would hurt you for the next thing you were going to say. After all, what was the worst thing he could do? Kill you? That was completely impossible.

"I have my reasons for that." You commented on his command, pulling your face away from his hand and looking away again. He raised his eyebrows.

"Oh really? Like what?" He asked, a hint of sarcasm to be heard in his voice. This sparked something inside of you. You stepped away from him.

"The eyes are one of my only weaknesses. The eyes are windows to a person's soul. You can see people's emotions... Their lives... And I can't help that seeing those kind of things in someone's eyes makes me want to love them. No matter who they are. I have a general love for people, and that is why I look away. Because, if I look away, then I can see you humans for who you really are. Selfish, greedy, and cruel creatures who care nothing for the feelings of others. I wonder how so many people could forget their morals and do terrible things, such as murder, just because they want something unattainable. They ask themselves if it's right... And of course the answer is no. Murder is murder, no matter what. But they decide to continue with their evil deeds and just make up a random reason to justify their actions. I guess I always thought if I looked away I could forget what happened..... But no." You finished, crossing your arms over your torso and squeezing your eyes shut at the painful memories flooding back into your head. You glanced at Lukas a moment later after you had recovered. 

Your eyes widened at the sight. He was crying. Someone who seemed so strong and fierce.... Was crying. Like a broken, empty child. You could see that he was holding back, trying to be strong, but he just couldn't. For some reason, you felt sorry for him. You wanted to tell him that everything would be okay. You had never had the urge to do that before, and it surprised you.

"H-How do you know all of this?! How is it possible that you, out of everyone I have near me, could know exactly what I have done? How do you know what plagues my conscious every second of every waking hour?! How?!" He pleaded with you, begging to know. He dropped to his knees, letting his hair fall over his face. You were taken aback. Just what had he done? But at the same time, you could see that he was like a child. He didn't know any better. You smiled warmly for the first time in forever and walked over to him, kneeling down. You used your hand to lift his head up, revealing his sorrowful eyes.

"Hey.... You shouldn't be doing that, you know? Crying." You whispered, brushing the blonde strands out of his hair. You watched his eyes widen a bit at the sight of your smile and at your words. He shook his head and pulled away.

"No... You don't understand.... You don't know what I've done.... I have so much blood on my hands...." He mumbled softly, child-like. You wrapped your arms around him suddenly.

"Then you'll just have to wash them." You said, stroking the back of his head with your finger tips, trying to comfort him. He pulled away and looked up at you helplessly.

"How?" He whispered. You wiped his tears away.

"That's for you to figure out on your own. You'll know. Trust me, you'll know." You answered, standing back up. He wiped the remaining wetness away and stood up along with you. You smiled and walked back over to the spoke. His eyes widened.

"Hey, no. You're not doing that again. You're too weak." He commented on your actions firmly, returning back to his original self. You let out a small laugh. The first one you had let out in a long time. You smiled at him again.

"Then help me." You replied and began trying to push it. You watched him scowl in annoyance, but come up beside you and help you push the spoke. In no time at all, with his help, you had the thing twisted up. You felt light-headed by the end. Yes, you were immortal, but that didn't stop you from feeling the effects of malnourishment and cruelty. You stumbled away from the spoke, trying to catch yourself but failing. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you quickly opened your eyes to see that Lukas had caught you. He looked disgusted, but not with you. He slipped one of his arms under both of your legs and lifted you up and into his strong, warm hold.

"God, you weigh next to nothing, (y/n).... Did that guy even feed you?" He asked and you could tell he was a bit angry. You nodded, like it was nothing.

"Once a week." You answered, looking up at the sky in wonder. There were so many stars..... You hadn't seen them in such a long time. You heard Lukas snarl and have to readjust his grip on you.

"Once a week? Then I'm honestly glad they killed him." He asked. He looked like he was about ready to kill someone himself.

"Hey. Calm down. It's nothing big. After all, I am immortal." You tried to reassure him, but he shook his head sadly.

"Maybe, but that's not the point. It doesn't matter whether you're immortal or not. It's wrong." He answered, looking off across the ocean. You were surprised for two reasons. The first was that he was learning so quickly. Going from thinking that murder is okay to saying that any form of torture is wrong is not something that just happens within a matter of seconds. But then you had a thought. What if he always knew it was wrong? You decided to save that topic so that you could ponder it later when you were feeling better about it. You were also surprised because he was so serious about it. He wasn't just stating it, he really meant it. You poked his cheek with a dull expression and he looked at you with one of annoyance.

"What?" He asked, irritated that you had broken his concentration.

"Nothing... Just making a mental list of your emotions." You answered in the same tone. He raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? And how many do you have?" He asked, mildly curious.

"So far? Four. Angry, sad, annoyed, and serious. I'm having trouble on two though. Kind-hearted and charming are two that I'm rethinking." You replied with brute honesty. He gave you a dull look.

"Oh that's wonderful." He added with a sarcastic tone.

"Hold on, I'm adding 'sarcasm' to the list." You held up a finger and looked up as if it actually took that much time to think about it. Your light banter continued until he reached the room he was looking for; the kitchen. He set you down at one of the tables and made you a little bit of food. He said to take it easy, because eating too much after being starved could make you sick. You rolled your eyes at that. 'No... You don't say?' You thought sarcastically. After you ate and drank some water, he led you to your room, which was ironically right down the hall from his. He said you could take a bath in there, and he found some clothes that you could wear until he found something more suitable. He was just about to leave for the night when you suddenly stopped him by gently grabbing onto his shirt's sleeve.

"Hey, Kaptein Lukas? Thank you." You said. He turned to look at you, and for a second you thought you had seen a twinkle of happiness in his amethyst eyes.

"No, (y/n). Thank you. And... Just call me Lukas." He replied and then left you standing in the room after bidding you goodnight. You spent quite a bit of time in the bath, relishing the feeling of the warm water surrounding your body, making sure to scrub all of the dirt off of your skin. You also made sure to wash your (h/c) hair so that it returned to it's originally (hairstyle) beautiful form. You got up and out and dried yourself off, pulling on the clothes Lukas had given you. You adjusted them a bit and were satisfied with the turnout. It was really cold at that time in Norway, and Lukas had been generous enough to give you a clean, white, flowy shirt and a blanket-like brown cloak that wrapped around your torso. The black pants he had given you weren't tight, but they hugged your legs from your thighs to your ankles. He had given you some thick brown boots, but you weren't going to need to wear them until the next day. You finally fell into bed, assuming it was in the middle of the night when you had gotten to sleep. You were surprisingly a bit happy. You weren't being tortured, and in fact, you felt a bit accepted and taken care of. You loved the feeling, and at the same moment, you felt a bit of a tug. You raised your eyebrows a bit, but disregarded the feeling, thinking that it couldn't possibly be what you thought it was.

"Hmmm... What a long day..." You sighed to yourself. For the first time in literally, ages, you fell into a deep sleep in which your dreams mainly pondered and revolved around a certain Norwegian viking.