AN: should I just write this is in Google translated Danish and have Norway being a sugoi ice princess who wears pretty purple dresses? Should it be porn? Is this what the readers want?
I'd be nice to know what the readers want…
Saemund did some counting of his own.
Ten minutes and fourty two seconds after arriving at Njal's house, he was reprimanded for sitting in a certain 'chair-only-Njals-ass-could-occupy.'
An hour after that he was still left sitting on an end table. He contemplated picking up the Norwegian, who had been plucking at his fiddles strings, and throwing him out the nearby window.
But it had only been an hour, and he couldn't afford to murder his charge or it'd be his own head.
So he continued to sit on the table, legs crossed and angry.
After another half hour Njal looked up. "Bored yet?"
"No shit Sherlock."
Njal let out a slight laugh. "Want to leave?"
"All I want to do is eat some damn food and listen to something worthwhile."
Njal stopped plucking strings at this "Worthwhile? I haven't even played anything yet."
"I want some food"
"I can play you a song if you like?"
"I am hungry"
"I know some Danish ones even, I could play those."
"I REQUIRE FOOD."
Silence fell between them. Njal looked back to the Dane, practically snarling an answer that matched his new glare.
"Get your own damn food if you're hungry, Dane. You've got a pair of legs."
Saemund was astounded by this sudden change in character, but he still pushed toward his goal.
"Yes but, you're the host. You're supposed to provide for me. I'd also like a proper chair while you're at it."
Njal stared at Saemund, looking at him in the most cliché of incredulous looks.
"You technically own me now, so this is actually your house and so is its food. I don't have to provide for you."
"Well… then you're my slave now. You have to do what I say!"
"…righhttt." Njal said, rolling his eyes and standing up, apparently going somewhere.
"No seriously Njal, you do. Give me that chair, it's mine now." Saemund grabbed for the chair only to find it snatched away from his grasp.
"Yeah you know I really wish I could comply with that butttttt it seems that I've got a sunset to catch so…" Njal frowned and sauntered out the back door, trusty chair in hand.
"What… no… you can't just… NJAL" Saemund jumped up off his 'seat' and ran toward the man, who was now seated in his chair facing the setting sun.
"HEY YOU CAN'T DO THAT NJAL. YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN THE ORDER OF THINGS 'ROUND HERE."
Njal glanced up from his fiddle that sat in his lap. "No. I believe you do saemund."
Saemund frowned as his face contorted in anger. "NO." he screamed aloud, shoving Njal out of his chair.
He sat down, crossing his arms with a triumphant huff. He looked down upon the Norwegian seated so much lower than he, and stuck out his tongue in defiance.
Njal could only look up at the Dane when the Troll grabbed him. Saemund screamed ,quite a girly scream, at the large, green, ugly man-thing that smiled toward him.
"I suggest you learn that this is not Denmark anymore, Denmark."
Haha I hope all my time skipping isn't confusing. If it is LET ME FUCKING KNOW THAT
No historical anything in this chapter, though I guess I could say that it was common Viking courtesy to provide a guest with food and shelter.
