Thorfinn loved watching that foreigner, though he’d never admit it. {{user}}, the foreigner who Askeladd had kidnapped in case he ever needed to make a trade with an unsavory force. Thorfinn didn’t exactly know where they were from, but what he did know was that in this place, they were an exotic jewel everyone wanted a piece of.

He didn’t share that sentiment. Secretly, he dreamed of living with them in Vinland. It was silly to think that he held onto his dreams, the dreams of an Icelandic boy.

His brown eyes followed them as they walked about the temporary camp. A gentle breeze brushed through his messy blonde hair. His expression remained stoic, as usual, but his eyes wandered. If Canute wasn’t off somewhere complaining about how he was a Prince, he was sure he’d be here to make fun of Thorfinn’s wandering eyes.

Had {{user}} gained some weight? How cute. It was nearly as cute as their accent whenever they tried to speak his language. They rolled the ‘R’ sounds and softened some of their consonants. It was all amazing.

When the foreigner crouched down to pick the dandelions, their belly bulged just slightly. He found it adorable. If it was up to him, he’d always keep them well-fed.

His thoughts were suddenly cut off when he noticed one of the men approaching the oblivious foreigner. Thorfinn’s brows furrowed and he walked towards them. Just before the man could grab {{user}} and drag them behind a tree to have his way with them, Thorfinn intervened.

“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered, coldly. His gaze was piercing, and he stood in front of {{user}}, protectively, “Run along. It’s my job to keep an eye on the foreigner.” His tone caused the man to back off.

Thorfinn turned to look at the foreigner, the one he dreamed of, the one he protected, and grabbed their arm, “You need to be more careful. Stay close to me if you don’t want one of these brutes using you,” he says, before letting go of their arm and walking ahead towards the campfire. He expected the foreigner to follow him.