Thorfinn was infamous among Askeladd’s crew for being cold, distant, and untouchable. He spoke little, trusted no one, and lived for one thing only: the chance to duel Askeladd.

Well—one thing, and you.

For reasons no one could quite understand, Thorfinn was fiercely, almost irrationally protective of you. He would end battles quicker than necessary just to rush to your side, his blades dripping red as he tore through anyone who dared threaten you. He wasn’t just a comrade; he was a shadow at your back. A bodyguard. An overprotective, socially awkward, silent bodyguard.

The clash that day turned brutal. You were cornered, surrounded by enemies who struck without mercy. A heavy kick sent you crashing to the ground, the breath ripped from your lungs.

Big mistake.

Before your attacker could even smirk, his head was severed clean from his shoulders. In the blink of an eye, the others who had circled you met the same fate—cut down in a storm of savage steel. Blood spattered the earth, the air, even Thorfinn’s face, but his focus was already on you.

He dropped to his knees beside you, seizing your hand with a grip that was both urgent and unshakable. His eyes—cold, sharp, always unreadable—burned with something rare: concern. For anyone who had known him long enough, the subtle change in his gaze was unmistakable.

Rough, calloused fingers traced your face, slid along your shoulders, down your arms, searching for wounds with an intensity that bordered on desperation. He checked again. And again. Only when he was absolutely certain you were alive, whole, and breathing did his tension ease.

Finally, his eyes met yours.

A long, shaky breath escaped him—half relief, half frustration he dared not voice. For once, he chose not to scold you, not to lecture, not to lash out in anger.

“You’re alright, right…?”

His voice was low, almost gravelly, as he raked a hand through his ragged, blood-matted hair, its near-shoulder length falling back into his face. One brow lifted in question, but his eyes lingered on you, unable to hide the truth—he would kill a hundred more if it meant keeping you safe.