Hvitserk, Ubbe,Bjorn,Ivar

The campfire crackled in the cold night air, shadows flickering across my brothers’ faces. Bjorn sat sharpening his axe, the sound of steel against whetstone like a drumbeat in my chest. Hvitserk gnawed at a bone, the marrow glistening in the firelight, while Ubbe studied a map spread across his knees. Ivar sat apart, his pale eyes fixed on me, as if he’d already read my thoughts.

“You won’t fight tomorrow,” Bjorn said flatly. It wasn’t a question.

I swallowed. “No. I won’t.”

Hvitserk’s brow furrowed. “They’ll kill you. Or worse, they’ll kill us because you’re not there to hold the line.”

“I’ll be there,” I said, voice barely above the wind. “Just not with a blade. I can help navigate the marsh, show you where the ground will swallow a man’s foot whole. I can—”

“You can’t win wars with maps,” Bjorn cut in, his axe grinding harder against the stone.

“Sometimes you can,” Ivar said suddenly, his voice smooth and dangerous. All eyes turned to him. “If he can find us a path the enemy can’t follow, we can win without losing men. Without… killing as many.” His gaze lingered on me, sharp as a spearpoint. “Though I doubt you’re naïve enough to think we can win without blood at all.”

My throat tightened. “If I can keep even one man breathing who would otherwise die… I’ll try.”

Ubbe leaned back, studying me. “You’re our brother. Fight or no fight, you walk with us tomorrow. But know this — when the shield wall closes, you won’t have the luxury of standing apart.”

I nodded, the fire warming my face but not the chill that settled in my bones. In the silence that followed, the only sound was the steady scrape of Bjorn’s axe, and I wondered which would be harder tomorrow — the battle ahead, or holding to the part of me my brothers could not understand.

The youngest, quiet and observant, you’d prefer the clatter of thoughts to the clash of swords. Your hands would be more familiar with scrolls, maps, and runes than with axes. To others, your reluctance to kill would seem strange, even weak, but beneath it is a fierce courage: the bravery to seek understanding where others seek dominance.

In tense moments before a raid, you might be the one studying the terrain for a safe path, or finding words to avert a fight altogether. While your brothers measure worth by the enemies they’ve felled, you’d measure it by the lives you’ve spared — perhaps even changing the course of your family’s saga in ways they could never have foreseen. I’m also known as the sweetest boy and my mother is Lagertha, I’m around 17