Author's note: Well you know how the saying goes: something old, something new, something borrowed, and something pillaged from a far-away English town to impress your immortal boyfriend. That's just a universally known expression people.


Something Pillaged

Egill lays with him in bed, Leifr trying hard not to cough. He'd felt ill for over a week now but had insisted Björn and Ketill continue on with their raiding while he rested in their home village. Leifr didn't really trust anyone else to care for his brother anyway, and he couldn't bring the child with him when he left. It feels like everything is perfect as he holds his baby brother close.

A cold breeze suddenly blows through an open door, the little one squirming in his arms to hide under the sheets. Heavy footsteps echo through the long house, Ketill coming into his view first. His clothes are torn and patched in several places and he's wearing more gold than when he had left. As always the one from just south of him is in good spirits.

"You missed an excellent landing Leifr," he smiles before bending over and kissing his sick companion. "Should I take Egill so you can-"

"No!" and thin arms wrap around his neck, holding Leifr tight.

"Leave us be," the older brother says in a flat voice, Ketill nodding and heading back out to probably find one of the women to celebrate with. Ever since Egill had been woken by the loud Dane fucking someone, Leifr doesn't allow him to bring women back to their house.

Those big purple eyes are wide as they take in something just behind Leifr, the Norseman trying to turn his head to see. Thankfully the object of his brother's attention steps into view, sitting on the edge of his bed. A large and strong hand reaches out to stroke his cheek. "How are you?" Björn whispers.

"Not worst," Leifr admits, "maybe even a little better."

"I took care of him while you were gone," Egill says proudly, still holding his big brother tight. Björn almost smiles a little at that, running a few fingers through the soft blond hair.

"You did well Egill, thank you. Now would you like to stay or go and eat with the womenfolk?"

After thinking over the offer from this more trusted Viking, Egill kisses his brother's head, turning to hold his arms out. With ease Björn lifts him, carrying the Icelandic colony under his cloak and out of the house. Leifr is alone.

His back is stiff from laying on it for so long; he slowly pushes himself up while the room is quiet, breathing deeply. The Norseman groans in relief.

"Not starting without me are you?" Björn teases as he reenters the house, sitting once more beside Leifr.

"Never," he breathes, holding out a hand that receives a kiss, then two. "Tell me, how were the raids?"

"Exhilarating," and eyes like the sea light up, Björn leaning in close. "The water was alive, she could not be pacified, and the lands we found were in such shock at our arrival that soon chaos descended upon them."

Freeing his hand from Björn's grip Leifr slides it over one of the man's cheeks, the short bristles from his short beard irritating to his skin. Their eyes lock, Björn's trying harder to focus. "Your vision is still as bad," Leifr observes.

He scoffs at his fellow Viking. "It will be fine."

"I do not want to see you go blind," the Norseman soothes. "If you could not see me, you could not tell me how handsome I was."

"But you are always handsome."

"And you could not help me with Egill."

"I could still tell him stories and sing him songs."

"And you could not watch what you do to me when we make love."

"Oh but I would feel it," and Björn steals his lips, pressing down firmly. Leifr lets him, glad that his companion had brought Egill to the women; the Norseman did not want his brother to see such acts, no matter how much he enjoyed them or how much beauty there was in them. Breaking the kiss the one from his east murmurs, "I brought you a present."

"Then bring it to me now," and Leifr shoves his lover away. "I will reward you after with my devotion, in proportion to your gift."

Smiling smugly, knowing either way he will be rewarded most fully, Björn moves to his bag to draw out two items that he then places before Leifr.

One is delicate, fingers running over it: a gold piece of jewelry exquisitely crafted, large enough to rest comfortably on a woman's upper forearm. Björn helps thread Lukas's left hand through, pushing it up his skinny arm until it will go no further just past his elbow. A dragon pattern; Leifr's always loved dragons.

The second gift, which knowing Björn was beyond valuable, was a book. Drawing it to his chest Leifr idly flips through the pages, taking in the painstakingly written words and the breathtaking pictures that surround the text. He sees images of far away lands, of men, of so many things.

"The monk did not want to part with this one," Björn whispers with pride as he leans in close. "i thought you would like it most out of those stupid books we found."

With knowledge of just enough letters Leifr tries sounding out certain words, the svíar shifting to lay properly beside him.

"It's religious?" he asks and Leifr nods.

"Christian."

"Umm."

A peaceful silence falls over them as Leifr finishes inspecting the item, passing it with delicate Norse hands to the much larger ones of his companion. "The child is gone," he observes.

"And so is Ketill."

"So he is."

When their eyes meet it's like lightning coursing through their veins. Leifr is starting to feel better already.