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    Summary

    Damon and Enzo had company in Augustine's cells. This changes a few things.

     

    “Oh, come on. You can’t just…. Call yourself a Viking. For one, it’s a verb. Two, not every Nordman went a-viking. Some of us were just farmers,” she smirks obnoxiously at Klaus and Elijah. “Who had never been on a raid. Or seen battle.”

    “And some of us,” Elijah says, “were not barbarians who drugged ourselves into battle rages over a few golden trinkets.”

    “Trinkets?” she snickers. “Pffft. One time I made off with a golden cross the size of me. We had to chop it into pieces to fit in the longship.”

    Klaus rolls his eyes. “And I’m sure you and your unwashed hordes were very impressed. Our family owned an entire town.”

    “I was Chief of my tribe,” Dagur points out.

    “Are you… having a dick measuring contest?” Damon asks, almost delighted.

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    Language:
    English
    Words:
    54,555
    Chapters:
    23/?
    Collections:
    2
    Comments:
    148
    Kudos:
    481
    Bookmarks:
    149
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    10,321

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