The hall descended into glorious chaos the moment Thorfinn lifted Freydis onto his shoulders. She squealed with delight and clutched fistfuls of his white hair as though it were reins, her small legs kicking the air while he turned in fast circles so she could survey the madness below like a queen on her throne. Rebekah stayed close at his side with one hand resting on his lower back and the other reaching up to steady their daughter whenever she leaned too far forward. Gyda pressed in on his other flank laughing so hard she had to brace herself against his arm, her cheeks flushed from ale.
Thorfinn grinned wide enough to show teeth and began to stamp his feet in time with the pounding drums. "Hold fast little one or you will fly off like a raven scared from its perch!"
Freydis giggled and tugged harder. "Faster Papa! Make the hall spin!"
He obliged her with longer strides that carried all three of them deeper into the press of dancers. Rebekah matched his rhythm step for step her skirt already hiked high enough to show the lines of her calves while Gyda spun away then spun back again linking arms with her mother and laughing into the air.
Across the open floor Floki had climbed onto one of the long tables scattering plates and horns in every direction. He stood naked from the waist up his lean body painted with fresh runes in charcoal and blood-red ochre. In each hand he held a burning torch snatched from a wall sconce and he whirled them in circles above his head while he howled verses of an old song at the top of his lungs. The flames licked close enough to singe the ends of the little hair he had but he paid them no mind. Helga danced beneath him barefoot and bare-breasted her arms raised high as she caught droplets of hot pitch that fell from the torches and smeared them across her own skin in wild patterns laughing all the while.
"See how the fire loves me!" Floki shouted down to no one in particular. "It kisses but never burns true! Come join us you milk-blooded farmers or I will set the whole roof ablaze to warm your arses!"
Men roared approval and several stripped their tunics off in answer throwing the wool into the growing pile near the central hearth until half the hall danced bare-chested or entirely naked. Torstein was already among them his breeches unlaced and hanging on his hips while he thrust his hips in crude imitation of a rutting boar and pulled two thrall girls against him at once. One rode his thigh with her head thrown back moaning loud enough to be heard over the drums while the other knelt before him working him with her mouth in full view of anyone who cared to look. He threw his head back and bellowed laughter between ragged breaths.
"By Thor's mighty cock this is how men should feast!" he roared. "Eat drink fuck and fight till the sun rises or till we drop whichever comes first!"
The Nubian had claimed the space near the musicians where he now led a line of dancers. He slapped his bare thighs with both hands in beat then leapt high and landed in a crouch only to spring up again spinning on one heel with arms flung wide. Every time he landed the floorboards groaned and the crowd answered with stomps and claps that shook hanging shields from their pegs.
A cluster of young women followed his every move shedding clothes as they went until they danced in nothing but skin and their silver arm-rings. One of them a tall Dane with freckles across her breasts grabbed The Nubian around the waist and kissed him hard enough to draw blood from his lip. He laughed into her mouth lifted her clean off her feet and spun her in a circle while she wrapped her legs around him and ground down shamelessly.
Sophia had also let loose completely. She stood atop a bench with her tunic unlaced to the navel and her dark hair around her shoulders. In one hand she held a drinking horn filled to the brim with mead while in the other she gripped a short axe she had borrowed from some warrior who now watched her with hungry eyes. She drank deep letting golden liquid spill down her chin and between her breasts then threw the empty horn aside and leapt down into the group of bodies.
Two men caught her immediately one on each side and she allowed them to lift her high so she rode their shoulders while she sang a raucous southern song in a tongue none of them understood. Her voice carried over the feast and the men beneath her swayed in time until she slid down between them laughing as she pushed the both away and latched onto Thorfinn, she caught him by the chin and pulled him into a bruising kiss then spun away to dance some more
Near the high seat Ragnar watched it all with a cup refilled in his hand and a smile on his face. He leaned toward Aslaug who sat beside him flushed and bright-eyed from drink. "See wife? This is what happens when Thorfinn walks back into his own hall. The gods themselves could not stop this feast now."
Aslaug did not say anything, she merely took a deep drink from her cup.
At the heart of it all Thorfinn still carried Freydis on his shoulder while she shrieked with laughter every time he dipped or spun. Rebekah stayed glued to his left side her arm looped through his and her free hand occasionally brushing Gyda's as the younger woman danced close on his right. Freydis pointed at Floki who had now leapt from the table to join The Nubian in an impromptu contest of dancing.
Freydis pointed again at Floki who now spun in frantic circles with The Nubian, the two men locked in a mad contest of leaps and twists that sent sparks flying from the torches still clutched in Floki's hands. The girl tugged Thorfinn's hair harder. "Papa look! Uncle Floki is dancing with fire!"
Thorfinn laughed and gently lifted her down from his shoulder, setting her on her feet between Rebekah and Gyda. "Enough flying for one night, little raven. Go with the other children for now."
Freydis pouted for half a heartbeat then darted between their legs to find Ubbe and Hvitserk again, leaving Thorfinn free to turn fully into the press of bodies. Rebekah immediately stepped in front of him, her hands sliding up his chest to tug at the laces of his tunic. Gyda pressed against his back, chin resting on his shoulder, while Sophia appeared from the side already flushed and gleaming with sweat, her own tunic hanging open.
Floki saw him then and broke away from The Nubian with a wild whoop. He vaulted over a bench, landed in a crouch before Thorfinn, and sprang up again to seize him by both shoulders.
"Tell us a tale, Hellbane!" Floki shouted, voice cracking with glee. "You have been gone four winters and sailed to places no man here has dreamed! Give us a story or I swear by Loki's crooked cock I will set this hall ablaze till you speak!"
The cry was taken up at once. "A tale! A tale!" Men banged horns and axes on tables while women shrieked encouragement. Thorfinn raised both hands for quiet and waited until the drums slowed to a low throb, then stepped onto the nearest bench so every eye could find him.
"Very well," he said over the dying music. "Gather close and listen, for I will tell you of the day the sun tried to cook me alive and the night I walked beneath a city older than Midgard itself."
He paused to let the words settle.
"I was lost in a place of sand, hot sand that stretched farther than any sea. Sand in every direction, gold under a white sky that burned without mercy. No tree, no river, no shade. Only dunes that rolled like waves and wind that scoured flesh from bone. Even our hottest summer days are but a drop of how true this heat was; standing in a furnace is the only thing comparable to it."
Murmurs of awe rippled through the crowd. Most had never heard of a desert; the word itself sounded like a curse.
"I walked until my boots wore through and my tongue swelled black in my mouth. But on the third day I stumbled into the camp of a king whose wealth made our halls look like swine pens. His tents were cloth-of-gold. His camels wore collars of rubies the size of hen's eggs. His slaves carried fans made from feathers dipped in molten silver. When he laughed coins spilled from his sleeves like grain from a torn sack. He was rich beyond counting, richer than all the kings of Norway together and over a thousand times more. This king... he looked at me half-dead in the sand and said, 'This pale ghost has walked through my furnace and still stands. He will ride at my side.'"
Thorfinn's voice dropped lower. "We travelled together for weeks until one dawn the earth opened before us. Steps carved from black stone led down into darkness. We followed them and found a city that had stood since before our ancestors first lashed logs together to make boats. Towers of crystal and bronze rose under a roof of living stone. Rivers of water ran through streets paved with lapis and gold. Lamps burned without fuel and never dimmed. They called this place Atlantis, the second city that ever was."
A hush fell heavier than before. Even the drums had stopped.
"But something ancient and hungry lived in the deep halls beneath that city. A monster woke when we entered the lowest chamber. Pale skin, eyes like pits of tar, jaws wide enough to swallow a man's head whole. It slaughtered the king's men in moments until only I and the king remained, we fought it alone when all others lay broken. Its claws raked me here—" He pulled the neck of his tunic aside to show the long jagged scar that crossed his chest and disappeared beneath the fabric. "—and its teeth tore flesh from my arm. I thought I would die there in the dark."
He drew his sword in one smooth motion. The blade caught firelight along its edge but strange black splotches marred the iron.
"With this sword, blessed by Baldr himself, I struck true. I drove it through the beast's eye and twisted until its skull cracked. The monster fell, but its blood was poison. It splashed across the blade and sank into the metal. To this day the stain remains. No forge can burn it away. No whetstone can scour it clean. It is the mark of a thing that should never have walked under the sky."
Silence held for three heartbeats.
Then the hall exploded.
Men roared, women screamed approval, horns crashed together. Axes rang on shields. Someone started the old war-chant and the sound swelled until the rafters shook.
Thorfinn sheathed the sword and stepped down from the bench straight into waiting arms.
Rebekah reached him first, fingers already tearing at what remained of his tunic until it hung in shreds around his waist. She pressed her mouth to the scar he had shown, kissing the raised flesh while her hands roamed lower. Gyda slid in behind him, naked to the waist now, breasts brushing his back as she bit gently at his neck and shoulder. Sophia appeared on his other side, laughing, her own clothes long discarded; she caught his face and kissed him deep while her thigh pushed between his legs.
The four of them became a knot of limbs and heat in the centre of the floor. Hands pulled at laces and belts. Mouths found skin. Thorfinn lifted Rebekah against him so her legs wrapped his hips; she ground down hard while Gyda and Sophia pressed close on either side, kissing whatever flesh they could reach. Around them the hall surrendered completely to lust and abandon.
Blaeja and Elijah danced near the fire, mouths locked together, her hands buried in his hair while he gripped her arse and lifted her so she could wrap both legs around his waist. They kissed as though the world ended at dawn.
Niklaus and Henrik, already drunk beyond sense, wrestled on the rushes near a bench. Niklaus had Henrik in a headlock but the younger man twisted free, tackled him again, and they rolled laughing and cursing until thralls scattered to avoid being crushed. Ale horns tipped over them both; though neither cared.
Everywhere bodies coupled. Men took women against walls, on tables, on the floor itself. Women rode men in plain sight or knelt between them. Moans and cries mingled with song and laughter. Someone started a new chant and soon half the hall sang it while they fucked and drank and fought in equal measure.
The Nubian stood atop a table with two women both naked and wrapped around him like ivy. He threw his head back and howled at the rafters. "I LOVE THE NORTH!" he bellowed.
Athelstan, leaning against a pillar with a cup in hand, laughed until tears ran down his face. He raised the cup high and shouted, "To Kattegat!!!" Then he drank deep and joined the nearest knot of dancers, letting himself be pulled into their circle.
The night grew rowdier still.
Fights broke out among the men. Thorfinn found himself wrestling Torstein who roared and tried to throw him over a bench. They grappled laughing until Thorfinn hooked a leg behind Torstein's knee and dropped him hard. Others piled in; Niklaus tackling Floki, Henrik trying to take on three at once, Ragnar himself stepping down from the high seat to grapple with a pair of young warriors who thought they could best him.
The feast showed no sign of ending. If anything the night was only growing more intense. However Thorfinn and Ragnar had stepped away from the worst of the crush and now sat together on the stone steps that led up to the high seat. Each man held a fresh horn of mead, the honey-sweet burn cutting through the meat and ale already in their bellies.
Ragnar tilted his head toward Thorfinn without looking at him. "That tale of yours. Was any of it true?"
Thorfinn chuckled in his throat. "More or less."
Ragnar gave a short laugh as welll before he took a long pull from his horn.
Thorfinn glanced toward the far end of the hall where two small boys wrestled near Aslaug's feet. "I see you have new sons now."
Ragnar followed his gaze. "Aye. Ubbe and Hvitserk."
Thorfinn rose halfway. "Im sorry I was not here to congratulate you and Lagertha."
Ragnar caught his wrist before he could move far. A small, awkward smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "They are not Lagertha's."
Thorfinn paused, brows lifting. "No?"
Ragnar shook his head once. "They belong to Aslaug. My new wife."
For a heartbeat Thorfinn studied the other man's face. He saw the flicker of old pain there, quickly buried. He did not ask how it had come to be. Instead he simply sat again, lifted his horn, and spoke with sincerity. "To Aslaug, then. And to your sons. May they grow strong and may your hearth stay warm."
Ragnar met his eyes, lifted his own horn, and drank deeply. "Sköl."
They both drained what remained and set the horns down between them with twin dull thuds.
Ragnar placed a heavy hand on Thorfinn's shoulder. "I am glad to have you home, brother."
Thorfinn covered the hand with his own. "I am glad too." He looked out over the roaring hall. "I have seen more on this journey than in my first fourteen winters combined. Sights beyond imagining and terrors that still walk through my dreams at night. But none of it compared to seeing Kattegat again."
Ragnar raised his empty horn toward the roof-beams in salute. "To your return, Thorfinn. May the gods keep you here till the final battle."
They clinked the horns even though both were dry.
Before Thorfinn could refill them both, Rebekah appeared through the crowd. Her tunic hung open to the waist, sweat-slick skin gleaming, hair wild and tangled. She seized him by the front of what remained of his tunic and dragged him back into the heart of the madness without a word. Gyda, Sophia, Thyri and surprisingly Lagertha followed close behind, all of them flushed and laughing, clothes reduced to scraps or gone entirely.
They formed a tight knot near the central hearth where the feast was at its fiercest. Rebekah pressed herself against Thorfinn first, mouth finding his in a kiss that tasted of mead and salt. Her hands worked the last laces free until his chest was bare; she raked nails lightly down the old scar while she ground her hips against him. Gyda slid in behind him again, her smaller breasts pressing into his back, her mouth on the side of his neck, biting softly then licking the mark. Sophia claimed his left side, one leg hooking around his thigh, her fingers already tugging at his belt while she kissed along his jaw. Thyri pressed to his right and caught one of his hands, guiding it beneath what remained of her skirt so he could feel how wet she already was. Lagertha stood a half-step back at first, watching with heavy-lidded eyes, then stepped forward and caught Rebekah's chin, turning her for a slow, deep kiss that left both women breathing hard.
The five of them moved together in a slow, drunken dance that was more fucking than dancing. Thorfinn lifted Rebekah so her legs locked around his waist; she guided him inside her with one hand, gasping against his mouth as he filled her. He thrust up into her in long strokes while Gyda knelt behind him, tongue tracing the line of his spine, hands reaching around to tease his balls. Sophia dropped to her knees in front of them both, mouth closing over Rebekah's breast, sucking hard while her hand worked between her own thighs.
Thyri climbed onto a nearby bench so she could straddle Thorfinn's face when he bent forward; he buried his tongue in her at once, lapping greedily while she rocked against him with small desperate cries. Lagertha finally shed the last of her clothes, stepped behind Sophia, and pulled the younger woman back against her chest. She slid two fingers inside Sophia while her other hand pinched and rolled a nipple, whispering filthy praise into her ear until Sophia shuddered and came with a moan.
Across the floor The Nubian had claimed a space near the musicians. Two women, one dark-haired, the other pale and freckled knelt before him. He stood with legs braced wide while they took turns sucking him, hands stroking what their mouths could not reach. When one gagged he laughed and pulled her up to kiss her roughly, then bent the other over a bench and entered her from behind in one hard thrust. She cried out in pleasure-pain; he fucked her with long powerful strokes, one hand fisted in her hair, the other slapping her arse in time with the drums until she screamed her release.
Niklaus found Tatia in the shadows near the wall. She had been watching him wrestle earlier. He backed her against the timber, lifted her skirt with rough hands, and sank to his knees to bury his face between her thighs. She gripped his hair and rode his tongue until her legs shook, then pulled him up so he could lift her against the wall and drive into her hard enough to rattle the shields above their heads.
Floki had dragged Helga to the centre of the floor. He knelt before her now, face between her thighs while she stood with legs spread, one foot braced on his shoulder. She sang an old hymn to Freyja in a highp itched voice that rose above the moans and laughter, praising the goddess of love. Floki answered with growls and licks until Helga's song broke into a keening cry and she came trembling against his mouth.
Then Floki rose, lifted Helga onto his shoulders as Thorfinn had carried Freydis earlier, and began to chant a tale of of the gods. "It was said that Baldr the Beautiful, beloved of all, dreamed of his own death. That on his death all the gods wept. But the world could not bear such loss forever. When the fires of Ragnarök have burned the old world clean, Baldr will rise again from the ashes whole once more to walk among the living."
He spun slowly with Helga atop him, arms spread wide as though embracing the entire hall. "So it is with our brother Thorfinn Hellbane! Lost to us, thought dead by some, yet here he stands, returned from lands of fire and shadow, white-haired like the god himself, bringing life back to this hall! The gods have kept their promise. Baldr walks among us tonight!"
The Nubian threw back his head and howled joy into the rafters. "This is the North I dreamed of!" he bellowed, two women still clinging to him, one riding his cock where he stood, the other pressed behind kissing his neck and grinding against his arse. He thrust up hard into the first while his hands gripped both sets of hips, driving them all toward release.
Thorfinn lowered Rebekah to the rushes, laid her on her back, and entered her once more with fast powerful thrusts that made her arch and claw at his shoulders. Thyri straddled her face; Rebekah's tongue worked eagerly while Thyri ground down with small frantic rocks of her hips. Gyda knelt beside them and caught Thorfinn's mouth in a messy kiss. While Sophia pressed behind him, breasts to his back, reaching around to stroke him where he joined Rebekah. Lagertha knelt at Thorfinns side as she kissed his neck and played with his balls, she forced his other hand between her legs and ground on it until his fingers slipped inside her.
Thorfinn felt the pressure build in his belly. He drove harder into Rebekah until she shattered around him with a cry muffled against Thyri's cunt. The sight and sound of it pushed him over; he buried himself deep and came with a guttural groan, pulsing inside her while Sophia's hand milked every drop. Gyda kissed him through it, swallowing his moans. Thyri came a moment later, thighs clamping around Rebekah's head. Lagertha shuddered beside them, Thorfinnfingers buried in herself, riding his hand to a release.
They collapsed together in a sweaty heap. Around them the feast raged on, wilder than ever, but for a small circle of five the feast was coming to a close.
For Thorfinn it was the best coming home feast he could've hoped for, even if he doubted none of them would remember it.
(AN: A bit of a smutty chapter, but tbh I felt like I needed to do it. If anything of you have watched Vikings then you'll see that feast they had when they recaptured Kattegat I think? In season 2. Well anyway I based this feast on that since it was pretty insane. Anyway hope you enjoyed it.)
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