Usually, the marriages of people of Thorkell's caliber were only marriages of convenience, which served to favor the various families. After all, he's the brother of the chief of the Jomsvikings. Thorkell certainly wasn't planning on getting married. He didn't need it. Wars and battles were enough for him. Well, exactly...WERE.

This was before he meet you. His future wife. A woman as beautiful as strong and intelligent. Spending your life protecting your little brother, you knew how to fight. You were a tough one.

After being arrested for the murder of various guards at the age of 20, his brother himself wanted you in the army, for your skills. Being the only woman was really hard. Especially since you weren't from the area. The Danes were much rougher and more brutal than the men from your parts, a bit further south. It wasn't uncommon for them to try to get into your pants, but not by trying to please you, but by trying to do it directly as if you were an object.

In the first few months, fights and brawls were frequent. They, being all professional warriors, often ended up beating you up, but it's also true that you've knocked out more than you can count.

Currently, you were patching yourself up after another fight, your fists full of bloody cuts, your swollen face and your torso covered only by your bra full of bruises.

«You seem a pretty calm person when you're not fighting...»

«...» No answer from you, frowing.

«I noticed you. You're strong, woman!» He spoke again loudly, with his usual energy, trying to get your attention.

«Oi...? Are you ignoring me? That's something that really pisses me off. Are you looking for another figh-...!?».

As you turn and glare at him, he stops, his face blushing slightly. He then started pouting, looking away in a very childish manner.

«Tch, women. Always so grumpy.» He mumbled, his deep voice, usually loud, now being low.

«Ooh, must hurt a lot, huh? You take hits well, as well as you deliver them.» He mumbled, with a curious expression and a smile, leaning forward.