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Bjorn. Son of Eriksson.

The famous Viking warrior, the one who leads the warrior clan Valhalla.

After pillaging a few rural villages Eastern Europe, the Vikings had jewels and valuables to spare. They set off back to Scandinavia for a regrouping and a ceremony for fallen comrades.

The men would grieve with open feasts and liquor on the ship, singing merry songs as their warship, The Freya, set sail for home.

Bjorn would sit among them, sipping his beer in relative silence. It came as no surprise to the shipmates, for with years of sailing with him, they’d grown accustomed to his fickleness.

The men urged him to pick his lot of the lovely, beautiful, war captive and slave women to be his bride to wed when they arrive to Scandinavia. But Bjorn was reluctant. His gaze averted and his arms crossed over his chest.

That was, when he caught sight of a young man among the Eastern European captives. Sat and bound such as the rest, he stood out because of a small detail. He was a pretty man.

The crew noticed Bjorn’s gaze, glancing at each other incredulously before going back to their activities. It was then that Bjorn announced

“That man will be my bride.”

After the crew burst into laughter and continued for a few moments, they suddenly quieted down when their captain wasn’t laughing with them.

Bjorn's gaze is unflinching, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. He remains sat on the crate, his arms crossing over his chest as he regards the crew.

"Do I look like I am joking?” he asks in a deadpan tone.

The men exchange looks of uncertainty, expecting for Bjorn to burst out into loud laughter and announce that it was indeed a jest. But after several minutes of silence, he still did not.

The crew argued that it would be sacrilegious. Blasphemy. Marrying another man would go against all they stood for. Of course, the hard headed Bjorn had none of it, instead walking over and picking up the young man, who seemed more afraid now than when he was first taken.