Fruits of Your Labour

Thorfinn lay flat on the deck, breathing heavily as the rain beat down on him. His entire body ached, each muscle sore from the fierce battle he had just endured. The rain mixed with his sweat and blood, creating a cold, stinging sensation on his skin. He felt like he could barely move, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. The ship rocked gently beneath him, the waves no longer being huge due to the leviathan's body.

Looking up to the sky, Thorfinn watched the dance of lightning through the dark clouds. Each flash illuminated the sky, followed by the booming thunder that seemed to shake the very heavens. It was as if the sky itself was laughing and celebrating, a chaotic symphony of light and sound. The storm had been fierce, but now it seemed to be in its final throes, the energy slowly dissipating. As he lay there, the sky began to clear up. The dark clouds parted, and the sun emerged from behind them, casting its warm rays down on him. Thorfinn didn't know how to describe it, but the light felt comforting, soothing in a strange sort of way. It was as if the gods themselves were offering him a reprieve, a moment of peace after the battle. The intense waves started to calm, their ferocity fading as the storm passed. The wind, still cold, blew gently now, carrying the scent of salt and blood.

Thorfinn turned his head slightly, wincing at the pain that shot through his neck. He could see the Leviathan's massive body floating in the water nearby. The creature he had just slain lay still, its once fearsome form now lifeless. The head and upper body were blackened and melted from the lightning's wrath, a grim testament to the battle's ferocity. The lower half, still submerged, remained untouched by the storm's fury.

Despite the exhaustion that weighed him down, Thorfinn felt a surge of pride. He had faced the beast and emerged victorious. The Leviathan, a creature of legend, lay defeated in the water. It was a sight few had ever witnessed, and fewer still had lived to tell the tale. The sun continued to rise higher in the sky, its warmth slowly easing the chill from Thorfinn's bones. He could feel the tension in his muscles begin to release, the pain dulling to a manageable ache. The light seemed to wrap around him, offering a strange sense of protection and healing.

He knew he had to move, to secure the Leviathan's heart and ensure it didn't sink into the depths. But for now, he allowed himself a moment of rest

The ship gently rocked beneath him, a soothing rhythm that helped to calm his boiling blood. Thorfinn closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the sun and the quiet of the sea wash over him. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the salty air, and exhaled slowly, feeling the tension leave his body. When he opened them the sun was further higher in the sky than before. Thorfinn slowly pushed himself up, his limbs trembling from the exertion. As he rose to his feet, a smile began to spread across his face. The smile grew wider until he threw his head back and laughed. The laughter started as a low chuckle but quickly grew louder, echoing across the empty sea. He leaned heavily against the mast, using it to steady himself as he caught his breath.

With what little strength he had left, Thorfinn turned the sail, adjusting it to catch the wind. The sail billowed out, and the ship began to move, cutting through the now-calm waters. He aimed the ship back toward the small island, where the Leviathan's lifeless body lay half-submerged in the water. As the ship approached the island, it knocked against a rock, causing Thorfinn to stumble. He quickly grabbed hold of the mast, steadying himself and gritting his teeth against the pain that shot through his body. Despite the discomfort, the smile never left his face. He had done it. He had faced the Leviathan and triumphed.

The ship continued to glide toward the island, the gentle waves lapping against its sides. Thorfinn could see the Leviathan's massive form more clearly now, the blackened and melted upper body a stark contrast to the untouched lower half still hidden beneath the waves. The sight of the slain beast filled him with a sense of triumph and relief.

The boat finally came to a stop near the shore, the hull scraping against the rocks. Thorfinn took a deep breath, steadying himself before he carefully climbed down from the ship. His legs wobbled as they touched solid ground, and he had to lean on the ship for support. Thorfinn trudged through the water, his boots sinking slightly into the wet sand with each step. The water was up to his shins, cold and biting against his skin. He approached the Leviathan's enormous body, its lifeless form sprawled across the small island. The creature's massive eye loomed ahead, as tall as he was. The skin around it had melted and blistered, and the fluid inside drained, leaving it sunken and hollow.

Thorfinn reached out, his hand trembling as he touched the Leviathan's rough, scorched skin. The texture was gritty and warm, a stark contrast to the cold water around him. He clenched his fist, feeling a surge of emotions well up inside him. With a roar, he began to punch the creature's hide, each blow sending jolts of pain through his hands and arms. Blood started to seep from his knuckles, staining the Leviathan's flesh.

He kept hitting, his fists becoming raw and bloody. His roars grew louder, filled with a mix of rage, triumph, and frustration. Finally, he fell to his knees, the water splashing around him. He tilted his head back and screamed to the sky, his voice hoarse and broken. He was alive, he had completed his task, but a deep sense of dissatisfaction gnawed at him.

Thorfinn whispered a Nordic prayer, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. "Þórr, eg skuldbinda mig til þín. Þegar Ragnarök lemur, mun ég berjast við hlið þinni gegn Jörmungandri. Ég mun endurgjalda þér fyrir kraft þinn og vernd." (Thor, I pledge myself to you. When Ragnarok comes, I will fight by your side against Jormungandr. I will repay you for your power and protection.) As he finished his vow, thunder rumbled through the sky, a low, ominous sound that echoed across the water.

He bowed his head in gratitude, whispering, "Þakka þér, Freyr, fyrir skipið. Án þess, hefði ég verið í maganum á þessu skrímsli." (Thank you, Freyr, for the boat. Without it, I would have been in that beast's stomach.) The wind picked up slightly, as if acknowledging his words. Thorfinn took a deep breath, his body aching and his mind weary, but he felt a small measure of peace.

Thorfinn took a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill his lungs. He wiped the sweat and blood from his face with a grimy hand. "Time for the hard part," he said with a chuckle, though it sounded more like a rasp. He turned away from the massive, lifeless eye of the Leviathan and began the slow walk back toward his ship. As Thorfinn walked, the pain in his body intensified. He looked down and saw the bloody rune carved into his skin. It looked deformed and wasn't even close to the shape it had when he first carved it. His whole body was bruised, and his veins were tinged red. He had shrunk back to his original size, no longer sporting the enhanced muscles from before. The incredible strength he had accessed was fleeting; he knew he'd have to learn more about runes before attempting such a feat again. He doubted he'd survive the aftereffects a second time.

Entering his ship, Thorfinn made his way to the storage area. A smile crossed his face as he saw the herbs and medicine he had brought with him. "Freyr must have saved it all from the sea," he thought. He grabbed one of the clay vials and drank from it, scrunching his face at the bitter taste.

Sitting down, Thorfinn began mixing herbs and preparing a poultice. As he worked, he held the mixture with both hands and whispered, "Þu fornimest adl fram guman!" (You banish sickness from the man!). His eyes glowed gold for a moment before the small pouch containing his poultice glowed as well.

He knew this wouldn't heal him immediately, but combined with the tonic he had taken, the poultice would speed up his healing and prevent further deterioration. He attached the poultice to his hosurs before moving to the centre of the boat, lying down and looking at the sky.

He knew he had to carve the Leviathan up soon, but it was a task that required strength and stamina, something he lacked at the moment. Thorfinn closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him, allowing his body to rest and heal.

———————————————————

Elijah stood outside Thorfinn's longhouse, the first light of dawn just breaking over the horizon. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, dark circles prominent beneath them. His clothes were wrinkled and dirt-streaked, and his usually tidy hair was dishevelled. Hild had been waking up screaming every night, plagued by nightmares that seemed to grip her even after she woke. It took hours to calm her each time, and Elijah was starting to doubt whether they were just nightmares or something more sinister.

Rebekah emerged from the longhouse, carrying a drink for her brother. She, too, looked worn out, her eyes red from lack of sleep. Her heavily pregnant belly made her movements slow and deliberate. She handed Elijah the drink with a tired smile.

"Is Hild okay?" Elijah asked, his voice rough with fatigue.

Rebekah sighed but nodded. "She's settling down now. Helga and Blaeja are with her," she replied. A moment of silence passed between them before Rebekah winced and grabbed her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Elijah asked, pushing off the wooden wall and grabbing a chair for her.

Rebekah smiled and took the offered seat, stroking her belly. "I am well, Elijah... she's just been very active. Helga says it's a good sign, means she will be strong," she said.

"She?" Elijah asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rebekah nodded. "I feel it... she will be a girl."

Elijah managed a rare smile. "Then I am sure she will be as beautiful as her mother."

Rebekah returned the smile but frowned as she looked out into the distance. She saw some of the villagers felling trees and dragging them away. "What's going on, Elijah? What are they doing?" she asked.

"Building a palisade around the farmstead," Elijah replied.

"Why would you do that?" Rebekah asked, her frown deepening.

"Thorfinn showed me where his silver was and gave me permission to use it if needed," Elijah said.

"But why would we need such a thing... unless you think Hild's dreams are more than just dreams," Rebekah said, her eyes widening.

Elijah shrugged. "I hope they are just dreams, but with most of the fighting men gone, the farmstead is at risk. Even if they are just dreams, it'll protect us from bandits at the very least."

"I am scared, Elijah... I miss Thorfinn. I don't want him to fight Niklaus or any of the others," Rebekah said, her eyes welling up with tears.

Elijah put a hand on her shoulder. "Me either. Trust in the gods, they'll all be well."

Rebekah shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Elijah quickly helped her up and guided her back to her bed. "Rest, Rebekah. You need your strength," he said softly.

After ensuring Rebekah was comfortable, Elijah stepped back outside. He rolled up his sleeves and headed toward the villagers working on the palisade. The smell of fresh-cut wood filled the air, mingling with the earthiness of the damp ground. Men grunted as they lifted heavy logs, and the sound of axes chopping into wood echoed through the clearing. Elijah picked up an axe and joined the villagers, his muscles aching with each swing. The logs were thick and heavy, the kind that would make a sturdy barrier against any threat. Sweat dripped from his brow as he worked, mingling with the dirt on his face. His thoughts kept drifting back to Hild's screams and Rebekah's fear. He pushed harder, the repetitive motions of chopping wood helping to clear his mind. As the sun rose higher, casting long shadows across the farmstead, Elijah took a moment to wipe his brow.

Elijah was in the midst of chopping wood when he heard shouts and the unmistakable sounds of fighting near the entrance to the farmstead. He pulled his axe from the tree and started making his way over, his pace quickening with every step. His eyes widened when he saw his mother, Esther, at the entrance, an older man trying to stop her from coming in. Elijah broke into a run, yelling for them to stop, but he was too far away for them to hear him.

The first man who tried to put his hand on Esther found himself being flung through the air, landing hard on the ground. Two more men who attempted to attack her afterwards fell to their knees, clutching their heads in pain. Elijah's heart pounded as he closed the distance.

"Mother, stop!" Elijah shouted as he got close. Esther paused at his command, and the men fell to the ground, trembling in pain.

"Elijah, I'm very disappointed in you," Esther said, her voice cold and her eyes full of displeasure.

Elijah knew exactly what she meant and didn't bother to hide it. "She's my sister. I won't let her suffer father's wrath," he said, tightening his grip around the axe.

"Rebekah is my daughter. I would never let Mikael hurt her," Esther replied firmly.

"Just like you protect Niklaus," Elijah retorted.

Esther's frown deepened. "That is... a different situation."

"How? Is he not your son?" Elijah demanded.

Esther sighed. "I did not come here to discuss Niklaus. I came because of Rebekah and her child."

"I won't let you take her back," Elijah said resolutely.

"That's fine, as I have no wish for the rest of our family to get caught in this," Esther stated.

"Get caught in—" Elijah began to say, but Esther interrupted him.

"Will you invite me in, my son, or will you leave me out here?" Esther asked, her tone softening slightly.

Elijah felt uneasy about the situation. However, she was still his mother, and he couldn't bring himself to turn her away. He gestured for her to enter. Esther began to walk towards the house, while Elijah checked on the men. He instructed the least injured one to go get help for the others before getting up and following his mother to the longhouse.

As they walked, Elijah couldn't help but feel a knot of tension in his stomach. His mother's presence always brought a mixture of comfort and dread. He knew she loved them in her way, but her methods were often harsh and unyielding. The closer they got to the longhouse, the more his mind raced with possibilities of what could go wrong.

He hoped it was just his imagination.

Esther walked into the longhouse with Elijah close behind her. As she entered the main hall, she took in the sight of Rebekah, Hild, Blaeja, Gyda, and Helga gathered around the fire.

"Mother!" Rebekah shouted in a panic, her arms instinctively moving to protect her rounded stomach. Gyda and Helga immediately stood in her defence, ready to shield her from any threat. Blaeja looked confused, not understanding the sudden tension. The only one who didn't react was Hild, who looked at Esther as if she were any other guest... almost as if she was expected.

"Rebekah..." Esther said, her eyes moving to her daughter's swollen belly. Her gaze was a complex mix of disappointment, happiness, and most of all, fear.

"What are you doing here!" Rebekah demanded uneasily, trying to push herself up from her seat.

"She knows, sister," Elijah said, stepping into the room. Rebekah's breath quickened. If Esther knew, it meant Mikael did too, and if Mikael knew, Thorfinn was undoubtedly in danger.

"Does fath—" Rebekah started.

"He does, but do not worry, he won't come until the conflict is over," Esther replied.

Rebekah felt a slight relief but it did little to ease her worry. "I won't let him hurt my child," she said, stroking her stomach protectively. "I will run away with Thorfinn before I ever let him get close."

"I won't let Father hurt either of you," Elijah said, moving to stand beside Rebekah and squeezing her shoulder gently.

Esther, however, didn't respond right away. She gave Rebekah a sympathetic look, her eyes softening. "Daughter... I am sorry to tell you... but Thorfinn is gone."

Rebekah's face turned pale, her body going rigid as shock set in. Her hands trembled as they clutched her belly, a cold dread spreading through her. "What do you mean?" she asked weakly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Thorfinn asked for permission to marry you from Mikael and he agreed on the condition that he slay the leviathan and bring back its heart," Esther explained. "It was a task designed to send Thorfinn to his death but he accepted. He left over a week ago and has not returned."

Rebekah's knees gave out, and she sank back into her seat, her hands still protectively cradling her stomach, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Thorfinn is dead."

———————————————————-

The North Sea was growing restless as the afternoon stretched toward evening, the waves becoming choppier and more unpredictable. The sky was a deep grey, casting a sombre light over the water. Amidst this tumultuous sea, the dead leviathan lay sprawled over the island, its massive body half-submerged in the waves. A gaping hole where its eye used to be marked the entrance Thorfinn had carved out.

Inside the creature, Thorfinn was covered in blood and guts. He had slept the entire night and day before, exhaustion claiming him after the harrowing battle. Now, he was hard at work, cutting apart the leviathan to take anything valuable. The smell was overwhelming, a mix of salt, decay, and the metallic tang of blood.

Thorfinn had started with the teeth. Each one was as hard as stone but sharp as iron, and they were the size of his leg. He had to use all his strength to pry them loose, cutting around the gums and pulling with a grunt of effort. The teeth were heavy and unwieldy, but he managed to haul them back to his ship, placing them carefully in the storage area.

With the teeth secured, Thorfinn ventured inside the leviathan. He muttered a spell under his breath, and a small stone in his hand began to glow with a soft, steady light. It was his only source of illumination as he navigated the labyrinthine interior of the creature.

He moved carefully, his steps echoing off the fleshy walls. The light revealed grotesque sights: thick layers of muscle, sinew, and organs the size of boulders. He knew he needed to find the heart, a task easier said than done. He used his sword to cut through the dense tissue, the blade slick with blood and viscera.

However, before he started looking for the heart he went back to the entrance he had carved inside the skull of the creature was a massive mass of meat. He had read in the Book of Shadows that the power of magic often comes from the head. It made sense to him since concentration was key to casting spells, something impossible if one was unconscious or dead. He grimaced but began cutting out chunks of the organ that lay in the skull. The texture was slimy, and the taste was worse than he could have imagined.

As he ripped out chunks and forced them down, he felt the urge to vomit but suppressed it. Some parts were slightly better, having been partially cooked by the lightning. He gagged but kept eating, his resolve firm. Nearly five pounds in, he couldn't hold it anymore and retched violently, the foul mixture spewing from his mouth. He decided to save some of the remaining meat for later, wrapping it in pieces of sailcloth and storing it in his ship. Continuing his gruesome task, Thorfinn pushed deeper into the leviathan, carving away the dense tissue to reach the heart. Blood dripped from his hands, his arms aching from the constant effort. Then the glowing stone revealed the heart, a dense, pulsing mass still faintly beating even in death.

Thorfinn cut through the thick muscles and sinews that anchored the heart in place. As he carved away, he noticed something odd—a small opening inside the heart itself. Curious, he reached his hand inside, feeling around for what could be hidden within. His fingers brushed against something hard and unyielding. He gripped it firmly and pulled, but it was lodged tightly. Gritting his teeth, Thorfinn braced himself and yanked harder. With a wet, squelching sound, the object came free, and the heart abruptly stopped beating, falling still in the carcass. In his hand, he held a strange light blue fruit, just bigger than his head. It was smooth and slightly translucent, pulsating with an eerie light.

Thorfinn stared at the fruit, bewildered. "What in Hel's name is this?" he muttered to himself. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Theories and questions swirled in his mind, but he knew this was not the time to ponder over it. He had to finish his task and get the heart back to his ship.

Continuing to cut away the remaining tissues, Thorfinn freed the massive heart. It was enormous, much larger than he was, and cumbersome to move. Luckily, he had brought ropes along. He tied them securely around the heart and began the arduous process of dragging it out. It took all his strength and a great deal of effort, but he managed to pull it free from the leviathan's carcass and haul it across the island to his ship.

With the heart finally on board, Thorfinn allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. He wiped the sweat and blood from his face, a smile forming as he looked at his grisly prize. This was the heart of the beast that had terrorized sailors for generations, a creature from the old world, before man had even dreamed of traversing the oceans and he had survived its wrath. Turning back to the strange fruit, he picked it up, curiosity overcoming his caution. He took a bite, chewing cautiously before swallowing. Almost instantly, his face contorted in disgust. The taste was vile, unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was bitter and sour, with a texture that made him gag. "Ugh, disgusting!" he spat, throwing the fruit to the deck of the ship in frustration. Throfinn then started to organise everything he had taken and making sure it was secured tightly, however he quickly realised that Freyrs sword was not among his possessions anymore. However there was a note that had mysteriously appeared.

*

The idiot shouldn't have given you the sword it doesn't belong to him. Though you used it pretty well so I let you borrow it.

From a Farmers Wife

*

Thorfinn looked at the note in slight disbelief before laughing and shaking his head. It was a great loss, but in truth it was a weapon that he was not worthy of wielding. The fact he was allowed to keep the boat was an honour that he would treasure forever. He got back to work securing everything looking away from the note and getting to work.

As he turned away, a loud bellowing noise caught his attention. Thorfinn spun around to see the leviathan's colossal body sliding off the island, being engulfed by the sea. The water churned and roiled as the creature disappeared beneath the waves, its presence finally vanquished. The leviathan was dead, and he had the heart to prove it. But there was no time to rest. He needed to get back to Kattegat and present his prize.

Thorfinn set to work, preparing the ship for the journey home. He secured the heart and the other spoils he had gathered, making sure everything was tied down and safe. The sea was still choppy, but the storm had abated, leaving behind a clear sky and a cold wind. He adjusted the sail and set course back to Kattegat. As the wind filled the sail and the ship began to move, he glanced back at the island one last time.

"Time to go home."

(AN: So Thorfinn has claimed his prize and is now on his way back to Kattegat, when he arrives things will be a bit different which him sure you'll find out. Now as for the strange fruit, I'm sure most of you can tell what they're based on. I've always been planning to do this, legendary creatures having devil fruits inside them seemed like a cool concept. Of course a lot of the time these Fruits are gonna be nerfed as some are just a bit too OP for this world. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)

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