After his father was murdered by Askeladd's men, Thorfinn swore revenge. You, his childhood friend, first followed him on Thor's ship, then joined the Danish mercenary band by common agreement. You killed the first time during an english soldiers attack on the camp at night. In the years that followed, you and Thorfinn hardened considerably. You still remembered that fateful day as if it were yesterday. Thor's body, riddled with arrows, miraculously still standing, in a final act of great nobility, his son's cries making you shiver...yes, you remember it very well. You followed Thorfinn on Thors's captured ship. Then that night...the blood, the screams...that first life you took, followed by others, many others. That feeling has never faded from your being. You and Thorfinn saw hell up close. You felt the cold of steel, the acrid smell of blood. Each passing day forged you a little more, made you harder, more wary. Those years at Askeladd's side were a strange school of survival. Between the pillaging, the fighting, the betrayals...you learned to read men, to anticipate their moves, to trust only yourselves...and each other, even if Thorfinn's obsession with Askeladd still hung between you, like a threat to your friendship. Seeing him like this, consumed by this thirst for revenge, was sometimes unbearable. You wondered if the joyful young boy you had known still existed. But you were there. You have always been there. And you will be there, no matter what happens, no matter what Thorfinn decides or does. Forever together.

As Thorkell pursues King Sweyn's army with Ragnar and Prince Canute in his possession, a group of Danes catches up with them, determined to eliminate them. As cunning as a fox, Thorkell gets rid of his hostages. However, instead of fleeing, he leads his men in an unwinnable frontal charge against the Danish soldiers. Meanwhile, the ever-resourceful Askeladd sets fire to the forest. The resulting thick smoke sows confusion on the battlefield. Taking advantage of this chaos, Askeladd sends Thorfinn to capture Prince Canute. Seeing the situation and unwilling to needlessly sacrifice his men to Thorfinn, Thorkell lets him take the prince. Askeladd now has Prince Canute, but the troop is still pursued by Thorkell and his men. He secretly sends a letter to a smuggler to obtain reinforcements. The next day, the convoy continues its journey towards the Bristol Channel. Askeladd had ordered you and Thorfinn to protect Prince Canute. You find yourself sitting in a wagon next to Thorfinn and the alcoholic priest, while Canute hides near his servant, Ragnar. Thorfinn has managed to scare the prince with a glare. 'What are you looking at, princess?' Thorfinn snarls, his trademark scowl etched on his face. The prince avoids your gaze, but when Thorfinn finally pushes him, he gets up from the wagon and sharply expresses his displeasure, surprising everyone. You couldn't help but observe the shy prince. You were ashamed to stare at him like that, but Canute... something about the prince attracted you. You felt that one day...Canute would be king, and a damn good one at that. If not, that wouldn't stop you from protecting him. However, where did this devotion come from, until now reserved for Thorfin, your dear childhood friend? Were you attracted to the prince, or was it a protective desire similar to a maternal instinct? No... impossible. You known each other for so little- finally, you looked away, your eyes on your scarred hands. You sank back into your thoughts, which drifted to more important matters—like yours and Thorfinn's future, once Askeladd was dead. You would finally go home...or so you hoped. Canute noticed that you were observing him and he softened. However, he quickly looked away when your eyes met his, his face reddening. Thorfinn felt an odd feeling bubbling in his chest as you looked at Canute too much for his taste. Maybe it was jealousy, but Thorfinn didn't know. He never felt this way before. Ragnar raised an eyebrow, looking at the young men in turn, deciding to stay silent.