To Tame a Viking: Chapter 6
Title: To Tame a Viking
Author/Artist: Schizounicorn
Character(s) or Pairing(s): SuFin
Rating: Pg-13 for now. Will go up to R later.
Warnings: Violence, Adult themes (later), Swearing
Summary: A young photographer named Tino meets a handsome Viking named Berwald, who has been sealed away by a magic spell for centuries and awakened only recently. Stranger yet, Berwald seems to think Tino is his wife! And what are these mysterious dreams Tino is having?
Chapter Six: Almost a Brawl
Tino and his Viking companion stood in the hallway of a shopping mall. Sunlight fluttered down from skylights on the ceiling, making the potted palm trees cast gentle shadows. There also seemed to be a pervading horse theme throughout the building. In the middle of a large, fountain spotted, indoor pond, there was a horse shaped topiary rearing on its hind legs. There were also many sculptures of cartoonish horses in multiple colors, bent into an odd wave. They were used for further decoration of the mall.
“Okay, Berwald, you now have clothes of your own. We don’t have to re-wash those old clothes every other day.” Tino and Berwald’s arms were full of a colorful array of shopping bags. Both men took a seat on a black, squiggle-shaped bench beside the indoor pond, gratefully dropping the load to the floor.
Berwald glanced around excitedly at the scenery. The water in the pond suddenly drew his attention. He dipped a great paw of a hand into it, and made little ripples with his fingers. Tino couldn’t help but grin; it was odd to see a grown man act in such a childish way, especially a great warrior. Perhaps it was even cute.
“You like the water?” Tino asked, playfully.
“Ya. M’ hands ‘r sore from carryin’ those bags ‘round the market. Cold water feels nice.” said Berwald in reply.
Tino laughed, “My hands kinda hurt, too. Mind if I join you?”
“Hmm.” Berwald took Tino’s hand in his own and brought it into the chilly water.
He laced their fingers together and upturned his lips into what Tino recognized as a Berwald smile. Even though he wanted to protest the giant’s rather forward action, Tino just couldn’t bring himself to let go of his hand. They had only lived together for five weeks, but the simple act of touching Berwald did something to Tino’s insides that he couldn’t explain. It was like the feeling he got in high school when he saw a boy he was attracted to: his heart beat faster and his stomach felt strangely unsettled. He also felt warm and blissful.
Tino hadn’t had any visions of his previous life lately, but maybe his feelings from that time were beginning to return. The idea of falling in love with Berwald terrified him. It was too much, too soon. Tino didn’t even know the full story of how he had fallen for the Viking in the first place!
“Somethin’ wrong?” Berwald’s voice broke the silence of Tino’s thoughts. He looked up into the large man’s icy gaze.
“No, just thinking about, uh, teaching you English.”
That was a lie, well, a half lie. Tino had really been thinking about educating the Viking earlier that day, just not at that moment. True, Berwald had picked up bits and pieces of the English language, but not much. Besides, Tino was Tongue Bound to Berwald, making it impossible for him to do the teaching himself. Berwald needed a tutor, but Tino wasn’t sure who would be fit for the job.
“Would like t’ know more.” Berwald said. “Yes,” he added in English.
Tino smiled, “Good pronunciation, Berwald. My hand’s cold. Can I take it out of the water?”
Wordlessly, Berwald brought both of their hands out of the pond, keeping their fingers entwined. He placed them gingerly on the bench between them.
“Thank you.” said Tino. He was a bit flustered that their hand holding was now more obvious.
A bizarre tension hung in the air like a haze. Tino wanted to move in closer; maybe even to rest his head on Berwald’s shoulder, but he didn’t dare take action. Who knew where even such an innocent and affectionate act could lead them? Why did Tino want it to lead them into unknown territory? It was a strange feeling, a feeling of knowing someone intimately and yet not knowing them very well at all. Wow, reincarnation was strange.
“Faggots.”
Once again, Tino’s quiet reflection was interrupted by someone talking, this time, it sounded like a child.
Standing a short distance away was a young boy who looked to be about ten years old. He had brown hair and an upturned nose. He was round faced and heavy, like a pig standing on its hind legs.
“Fags.” The boy was pointing and laughing at Tino and Berwald.
Tino let go of Berwald’s hand and stood up. “You know, that’s not a very nice thing to call someone.” he tried his best to be patient with the child; after all, he was probably just copying the behavior of someone older.
The pig-boy sneered. “You talk funny, where are you from, Russia?”
Tino was fuming at this point. If you valued your life, you would never call a
Finn a Russian, ever. “I’m from Finland, kiddo. You’re mom must be worried about you. Why don’t you go find her?”
“Go back to FAGland, I don’t need my mom.” The boy scurried over to Tino and kicked him in the shin. Hard.
Tino winced in pain, but before he had a chance to give the kid a piece of his mind, Berwald rose from the bench. He glared at the one who dared harm his Tino with anger as cold as an arctic wind. Before Tino could stop him, he lifted the boy up, carried him a few yards away, and put him down.
“No.” he snarled in English at the child. People around them were beginning to stare.
The boy burst into tears, his mouth distorted into the shape of a rubber band. His loud cries captured the attention of what looked to be an adult version of him. The pig-man stomped over to Berwald, his face red with rage. Sensing that things were about to get ugly, Tino walked up and stood beside Berwald.
“What did you do to my child?” the large man demanded, his pudgy hand resting comfortingly on his son’s shoulder.
Tino chimed in immediately. “Sorry sir, you’ll have to excuse him, he’s from Sweden and doesn’t speak much English.”
“I don’t care,” barked the man, “What the hell did he do?”
“Sir, your son called me a faggot, made fun of my heritage, and kicked me in the shin. Berwald here wanted to help me out, so he picked up your child and moved him. Sorry if he scared him, h-he meant no harm, I promise.”
“My son did none of that!” the man growled, thrusting a sausage-like finger into Tino’s chest.
“Look,” said Tino, “I’m not lying. I suggest we all calm down and forget about this. Um, would your son like a cookie? I can go buy him one.”
“You little…..” the porcine man gripped the collar of Tino’s shirt aggressively. Tino glared at the man, and gripped his forearm firmly.
“I don’t want to get into a fight, okay.” said Tino, trying to hide the frantic feeling that had seized him.
Suddenly, the man’s hand was ripped from Tino’s collar by a furious looking Berwald. The Viking snarled and punched Tino’s aggressor in the stomach.
“Daddy!” the boy shouted.
Tino couldn’t let this go on. He gripped Berwald harshly around the waste and pulled him away from the man with strength he had forgotten that he possessed. Tino spun the giant around to face him and grabbed his shoulders roughly.
“Berwald, what the fuck!” Tino’s voice came out in a screech. “You can’t just punch strangers!”
“He was gonna hurt ya.” said Berwald.
“But still, we could get in trouble.” hissed Tino.
Berwald fell forward slightly, a pained expression on his face. He had been punched in the back! Behind him stood the man and his son. Berwald turned around, fists clenched. A Viking never turned down a fight, and a small audience had gathered to watch! He swung for a punch, but Tino managed to run between the two men and catch Berwald’s hand in his own.
“Please, both of you, cut it out!” said Tino, anger filling his voice.
“Stop, this is security!” a uniformed man and woman pushed their way through the crowd, and stomped towards the four in its center.
Shit, thought Tino.
XxXx
“Berwald,” Tino said, “You’re lucky I talked those mall cops into letting you go. You’re also lucky that the guy you tried to fight didn’t press charges. The fact that you don’t speak English saved your ass. Don’t do something like that again.”
Berwald looked at the floor remorsefully. “I jus’ wanted ta protect ya.”
Tino’s heart sank. Berwald really did have good intentions; he just didn’t understand that fights like that weren’t appropriate in the modern age. “Berwald,
I’m sorry I yelled at you.” he said, “This time, this place. It’s so different from where you came from. Maybe I need to get you a tutor sooner than I thought.”
Berwald gazed at Tino, “Caused ya s’ much trouble. S’rry.”
Tino reached up and put a reassuring hand on Berwald’s shoulder. “Berwald, don’t worry. You can’t help it, you’re learning. Besides, I feel, you know I-I, let’s go home.”
Tino had almost said them, those three words he was not ready to say.
Reincarnation was strange, so very strange indeed.
Author/Artist: Schizounicorn
Character(s) or Pairing(s): SuFin
Rating: Pg-13 for now. Will go up to R later.
Warnings: Violence, Adult themes (later), Swearing
Summary: A young photographer named Tino meets a handsome Viking named Berwald, who has been sealed away by a magic spell for centuries and awakened only recently. Stranger yet, Berwald seems to think Tino is his wife! And what are these mysterious dreams Tino is having?
Chapter Six: Almost a Brawl
Tino and his Viking companion stood in the hallway of a shopping mall. Sunlight fluttered down from skylights on the ceiling, making the potted palm trees cast gentle shadows. There also seemed to be a pervading horse theme throughout the building. In the middle of a large, fountain spotted, indoor pond, there was a horse shaped topiary rearing on its hind legs. There were also many sculptures of cartoonish horses in multiple colors, bent into an odd wave. They were used for further decoration of the mall.
“Okay, Berwald, you now have clothes of your own. We don’t have to re-wash those old clothes every other day.” Tino and Berwald’s arms were full of a colorful array of shopping bags. Both men took a seat on a black, squiggle-shaped bench beside the indoor pond, gratefully dropping the load to the floor.
Berwald glanced around excitedly at the scenery. The water in the pond suddenly drew his attention. He dipped a great paw of a hand into it, and made little ripples with his fingers. Tino couldn’t help but grin; it was odd to see a grown man act in such a childish way, especially a great warrior. Perhaps it was even cute.
“You like the water?” Tino asked, playfully.
“Ya. M’ hands ‘r sore from carryin’ those bags ‘round the market. Cold water feels nice.” said Berwald in reply.
Tino laughed, “My hands kinda hurt, too. Mind if I join you?”
“Hmm.” Berwald took Tino’s hand in his own and brought it into the chilly water.
He laced their fingers together and upturned his lips into what Tino recognized as a Berwald smile. Even though he wanted to protest the giant’s rather forward action, Tino just couldn’t bring himself to let go of his hand. They had only lived together for five weeks, but the simple act of touching Berwald did something to Tino’s insides that he couldn’t explain. It was like the feeling he got in high school when he saw a boy he was attracted to: his heart beat faster and his stomach felt strangely unsettled. He also felt warm and blissful.
Tino hadn’t had any visions of his previous life lately, but maybe his feelings from that time were beginning to return. The idea of falling in love with Berwald terrified him. It was too much, too soon. Tino didn’t even know the full story of how he had fallen for the Viking in the first place!
“Somethin’ wrong?” Berwald’s voice broke the silence of Tino’s thoughts. He looked up into the large man’s icy gaze.
“No, just thinking about, uh, teaching you English.”
That was a lie, well, a half lie. Tino had really been thinking about educating the Viking earlier that day, just not at that moment. True, Berwald had picked up bits and pieces of the English language, but not much. Besides, Tino was Tongue Bound to Berwald, making it impossible for him to do the teaching himself. Berwald needed a tutor, but Tino wasn’t sure who would be fit for the job.
“Would like t’ know more.” Berwald said. “Yes,” he added in English.
Tino smiled, “Good pronunciation, Berwald. My hand’s cold. Can I take it out of the water?”
Wordlessly, Berwald brought both of their hands out of the pond, keeping their fingers entwined. He placed them gingerly on the bench between them.
“Thank you.” said Tino. He was a bit flustered that their hand holding was now more obvious.
A bizarre tension hung in the air like a haze. Tino wanted to move in closer; maybe even to rest his head on Berwald’s shoulder, but he didn’t dare take action. Who knew where even such an innocent and affectionate act could lead them? Why did Tino want it to lead them into unknown territory? It was a strange feeling, a feeling of knowing someone intimately and yet not knowing them very well at all. Wow, reincarnation was strange.
“Faggots.”
Once again, Tino’s quiet reflection was interrupted by someone talking, this time, it sounded like a child.
Standing a short distance away was a young boy who looked to be about ten years old. He had brown hair and an upturned nose. He was round faced and heavy, like a pig standing on its hind legs.
“Fags.” The boy was pointing and laughing at Tino and Berwald.
Tino let go of Berwald’s hand and stood up. “You know, that’s not a very nice thing to call someone.” he tried his best to be patient with the child; after all, he was probably just copying the behavior of someone older.
The pig-boy sneered. “You talk funny, where are you from, Russia?”
Tino was fuming at this point. If you valued your life, you would never call a
Finn a Russian, ever. “I’m from Finland, kiddo. You’re mom must be worried about you. Why don’t you go find her?”
“Go back to FAGland, I don’t need my mom.” The boy scurried over to Tino and kicked him in the shin. Hard.
Tino winced in pain, but before he had a chance to give the kid a piece of his mind, Berwald rose from the bench. He glared at the one who dared harm his Tino with anger as cold as an arctic wind. Before Tino could stop him, he lifted the boy up, carried him a few yards away, and put him down.
“No.” he snarled in English at the child. People around them were beginning to stare.
The boy burst into tears, his mouth distorted into the shape of a rubber band. His loud cries captured the attention of what looked to be an adult version of him. The pig-man stomped over to Berwald, his face red with rage. Sensing that things were about to get ugly, Tino walked up and stood beside Berwald.
“What did you do to my child?” the large man demanded, his pudgy hand resting comfortingly on his son’s shoulder.
Tino chimed in immediately. “Sorry sir, you’ll have to excuse him, he’s from Sweden and doesn’t speak much English.”
“I don’t care,” barked the man, “What the hell did he do?”
“Sir, your son called me a faggot, made fun of my heritage, and kicked me in the shin. Berwald here wanted to help me out, so he picked up your child and moved him. Sorry if he scared him, h-he meant no harm, I promise.”
“My son did none of that!” the man growled, thrusting a sausage-like finger into Tino’s chest.
“Look,” said Tino, “I’m not lying. I suggest we all calm down and forget about this. Um, would your son like a cookie? I can go buy him one.”
“You little…..” the porcine man gripped the collar of Tino’s shirt aggressively. Tino glared at the man, and gripped his forearm firmly.
“I don’t want to get into a fight, okay.” said Tino, trying to hide the frantic feeling that had seized him.
Suddenly, the man’s hand was ripped from Tino’s collar by a furious looking Berwald. The Viking snarled and punched Tino’s aggressor in the stomach.
“Daddy!” the boy shouted.
Tino couldn’t let this go on. He gripped Berwald harshly around the waste and pulled him away from the man with strength he had forgotten that he possessed. Tino spun the giant around to face him and grabbed his shoulders roughly.
“Berwald, what the fuck!” Tino’s voice came out in a screech. “You can’t just punch strangers!”
“He was gonna hurt ya.” said Berwald.
“But still, we could get in trouble.” hissed Tino.
Berwald fell forward slightly, a pained expression on his face. He had been punched in the back! Behind him stood the man and his son. Berwald turned around, fists clenched. A Viking never turned down a fight, and a small audience had gathered to watch! He swung for a punch, but Tino managed to run between the two men and catch Berwald’s hand in his own.
“Please, both of you, cut it out!” said Tino, anger filling his voice.
“Stop, this is security!” a uniformed man and woman pushed their way through the crowd, and stomped towards the four in its center.
Shit, thought Tino.
XxXx
“Berwald,” Tino said, “You’re lucky I talked those mall cops into letting you go. You’re also lucky that the guy you tried to fight didn’t press charges. The fact that you don’t speak English saved your ass. Don’t do something like that again.”
Berwald looked at the floor remorsefully. “I jus’ wanted ta protect ya.”
Tino’s heart sank. Berwald really did have good intentions; he just didn’t understand that fights like that weren’t appropriate in the modern age. “Berwald,
I’m sorry I yelled at you.” he said, “This time, this place. It’s so different from where you came from. Maybe I need to get you a tutor sooner than I thought.”
Berwald gazed at Tino, “Caused ya s’ much trouble. S’rry.”
Tino reached up and put a reassuring hand on Berwald’s shoulder. “Berwald, don’t worry. You can’t help it, you’re learning. Besides, I feel, you know I-I, let’s go home.”
Tino had almost said them, those three words he was not ready to say.
Reincarnation was strange, so very strange indeed.