After his last attempt (which involved untying fifteen different types of knots on his ankles), Berwald, showing a lot of commitment for the group (a commitment Leiknir, quite frankly, had not expected), decided to sleep with an eye on him. And, well, an arm.
Somehow, he didn’t think it was because in one of the attempts the Finn had tried to steal his sword.
The look of jealousy on his brother’s face at seeing Berwald practically snuggling the Finn annoyed him to no extent.
He sighed, deciding that he would start his advances on Saturday—the “laugardagr”, the day of the bath, would surely give him many opportunities to be sexual (and, albeit fearing repetition, there was still that echo in his brain of ugh, sex)—if nothing else, then to protect his brother’s honour.
It was currently Thor’s day. Two days were really not enough time to prepare, but he had been “preparing” for a week already. Oh well, it would have to do.
***
Berwald was rather happy when at Freyja’s day morning Tino didn’t startle upon seeing him looking at him as he woke. Instead, the Finn grunted and turned around, and if Berwald hadn’t been so happy at the fact that Tino was comfortable enough to willingly turn his back to him, he might have noticed him rolling his eyes. [Fig. 3]
But he didn’t, contended with that trust he thought the other placed in him.
Tino, on the other hand, had just about had enough. The night before he hadn’t found sleep thinking about ways to escape. Berwald’s eyes had been closed, but it seemed that each time he moved a bit too sharply, he would find them glaring at him intensely after so much as blinking; now he just didn’t care.
It was also a bit too warm and comfortable to think about scary things.
The press of the other’s body against his was a bit too much, though, and his eyes snapped open.
Last week, when the Viking had started to sleep close to him, he had wondered if this was their next attempt of seduction. He just knew that there were more coming: that Magnus did not seem like the type to easily accept defeat (or his own stupidity, for that matter), and thus he constantly expected one of them to approach him that way; yet Berwald’s actions were way too awkward to be even remotely interpreted as courting, so he had had to arrive to the conclusion that this wasn’t what he was doing, and thus, that he had absolutely no idea what exactly it even was that he was doing.
(He would maybe have been amused and puzzled at seeing that it was seduction what Berwald was trying on him, although it was for reasons unlinked to the rest of the group.)
The other’s breath was hot on the back of his neck. It was actually rather terrifying if he went with the theory that he wasn’t flirting.
Maybe Berwald was just misunderstood and in constant need of a hug. Oh, that seemed so plausible he almost started chuckling; but he couldn’t relax fully, and slowly pried the other’s arm off him to signal that he wanted to get up.
He had been on this duty when Eirikrinahild—no, wait, Eirikr now—popped his head in the tent and started to mumble something about getting the hell up already because there was a ship at the harbour and they wanted to sell them stuff. His face, though, darkened immediately at seeing their position, and Tino felt an unavoidable pang of guilt.
He had maybe taken things a bit too far with the boy’s feelings a week ago.
Tino hadn’t wanted to hurt him in any way; he had just seen an occasion to have fun, and no one in their sane mind would depreciate that, would they? But the boy had apparently become a bit too attached during the hours they’d spent together, and the consequence was a quite obviously broken heart.
Berwald let go of him and they both stood up and washed their heads and faces as was Viking custom. Tino found it to be an agreeable habit, and was quite curious what this ‘washing day’ they had been talking about would be like. He wondered if to them it meant something like the sauna to the Finns; spiritual cleaning as well as physical, a place of silence and rebirth.
Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [3/5]
He doubted it. He couldn’t quite imagine these scandalous, ravaging madmen lying still in a steam-filled ditch, watching vapours rise towards the ever grey sky of winter and feeling themselves be cleansed.
(Oh. He missed his home.)
At the harbour was a small market. They hadn’t gathered much over the past week, but what they had, they were going to sell. It was mostly either hunted goods, things that Leiknir’s troll had found in the forest, or carved and manufactured crafts Berwald had made.
Tino was still amazed at how skilled Berwald’s immense hands could be. Even though the man quite obviously had to strain his view, which did not seem to be too accurate, he brought forth beautiful pieces of art.
Eirikr had Tino on a leash while the others sold their ware, being the only one not doing anything. Tino could maybe have overthrown him, but he felt a bit too sorry for that.
Immediately after joining the people at the harbour, Magnus had started flirting with the daughter of the captain of the newly arrived ship, to Leiknir’s great dismay; the shaman grunted and slapped the back of his head, but there was absolutely no way of denying that the girl did not seem displeased.
Tino mused.
He found it funny how, after spending a mere week with them, he new a lot about his captors, while they still seemed at a loss. Take, for example, their sexual customs; on account of constantly being suspicious, he had focused on that, and now thought to know what… floated their boats.
Magnus, as was rather obvious, swung both ways, just like the Finn himself. There was an air on him that just seemed to scream that when it came to sex, he liked both, um, ‘meat’ and ‘fish’, and damn him if he preferred either.
Eirikr, as sweet as he’d been dressed as a girl and as attached as he’d grown to Tino, seemed, possibly without even knowing it, to prefer the shy smiles of a girl to the rough companionship of another man. That is, if Tino hadn’t completely interrupted his development of a sexuality. The way he seemed to steal glances at the girls at the harbour made Tino certain that he hadn’t completely rattled his preferences, though, so maybe he did not have to feel so guilty. And, well, if Eirikr ended up being interested in both like his leader and his first love, he didn’t find anything wrong in that, either.
The creepy ones were harder, but he’d had a week to focus on them, after all.
Berwald, if he hadn’t completely lost his ability to judge people (and he was not entirely certain that this wasn’t the case, as Berwald pretty much turned everything he thought to know about the human psyche upside down with his illogical behaviour), preferred, if he was to continue with the food metaphor, ‘meat’. If he even ‘ate’ anything at all, that is. He was currently selling something to a fairly attractive girl, and his sentences were… complete, which was quite the accomplishment concerning this man, really—he didn’t once mumble like he usually did, and while the girl was not really subtle when brushing his hand with hers as he handled her his carved pieces, Berwald’s face didn’t seem interested at all.
He found this rather amusing. He knew the Vikings’ views respecting homosexuality (being the submissive partner was considered effeminate, thus weak, and punished). Then again, he could imagine Berwald glaring anyone who accused him of being effeminate to death. And, well, imagining Berwald as submissive was actually hard. (And interesting. Maybe.)
Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [4/5]
The one he was at a loss with, though, was Leiknir. The man looked at the world with a bored gaze through empty eyes, as if he wasn’t interested in anything at all. Not even when he was talking to the air he considered inhabited by a mythological being did his eyes lose that uninterested shine; not food, not sleep, not walking or talking or even slapping Magnus (as appeared to be a common occurrence) ever accomplished to make him smile or show any kind of emotion at all. It was almost as unsettling as Berwald’s constant glare. And now, seeing him interact with both genders, he seemed truly unfazed by either.
Well, there had to be people who didn’t like ‘eating’ at all. It was impossible to starve this way, after all, wasn’t it?
He decided, as the others returned with purchased goods and money, that Leiknir was the one least likely to be next luring him.
***
“I could consider this humiliating, but everything you do is humiliating, so I guess I am used to it”, Leiknir said.
Magnus looked apologetic. His voice was a tad more careful than usual; whether this was because he feared another punch or not, Leiknir couldn’t quite tell. “Come on. You know I won’t think you any less of a man, don’t you? I’m having you around and doing your magic and you know I don’t think you’re weak, right? Or unmanly?”
He didn’t slap him, as Magnus seemed to be expecting.
This was because Leiknir was thankful. He’d been an outcast before: people knew that he was more than just a Runemaster, that he could talk to beings no one else saw and practice the Seiðr better than many women. [Fig. 4] Because of this he’d been accused of being argr—effeminate, unmanly, weak, to sum up: everything their society hated.
Of course he had challenged his accuser to a duel to settle the dispute and prove his virility, and of course he’d won; yet even then they all thought that he’d won because of supernatural help.
The only person able to testify this or not was dead now, but it didn’t matter.
Then Magnus had come, heard about the Seiðmaðr in town and sequestrated him and his brother, who’d been but a child of six winters back then. The rest was now.
But he would be ten times damned before he thanked the man. He already boosted enough as it was, and Leiknir wasn’t going to give him a reason to love himself even more.
Tentatively opening an eye after waiting for a hit without result, Magnus said, “I, um, just don’t think he likes beards. And, and you know they grow back! You’ll have that manly forest of manly wire and manliness growing manly out of your manly face again in no manly time, man!”
He kicked his shin for overusing the term he was at the same time so blatantly questioning, but picked up the razor Magnus had handed him and shaved before the piece of silver the man held up for him anyway.
The air was cold and strangely silky on his face afterwards, but it was oddly satisfying to see his own face again.
Magnus complimented him in ways that were awfully improper (particularly considering the fact that Leiknir didn’t want sex) and that didn’t make the fact that shaving someone’s beard usually was considered emasculating any better. When he felt the other’s hands on his ass he was too tired to punch him, so he lamely stepped on his boot.
Tomorrow was laugardagr.
***
Naked.
Vikings.
Naked Vikings.
Everywhere.
Tino wasn’t sure where to look and where not to look.
Berwald, on the other hand, seemed quite sure of what he wanted to be watching, and that was Tino. He wasn’t even hiding it—by Louhi, this man was weird. Maybe it was Viking custom to stare at each other without moving at all during laugardagr, except he didn’t see, say, Eirikr doing anything of the sort.
If Eirikr stared intensely, it was only at his own washcloth and under no circumstances anyone else, especially not Tino.
Magnus seemed interested in looking, yes, but more so in being looked at; he wandered around, occasionally stopping to stand at full height and full glory in the sunlight, letting it cast shadows on his skin where it was rippled with muscle, running his hand up and down his chest.
Tino wondered why, if they did this every Saturday.
Well, who was he to doubt Viking customs?
Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [5/5]
Berwald let his hair down, and it fell in golden strands down his shoulders. He tilted a basin with river water over himself, soaking it completely; then, he resumed staring.
Well, now Tino was distracted by the way the water licked wet trails down Berwald’s skin.
He had been at that when something tipped his shoulder, yet when he turned around there was nothing, so he continued to stare. Then it tipped him again. And again when he continued ignoring it, rather puzzled.
At some point, he could swear he heard a frustrated grunt, and something big that felt like enormous hands made of stone grabbed his shoulders and lifted him up effortlessly.
Oh, the view from above was also nice.
Berwald looked alarmed for a second, but didn’t get up; he must have been used to stuff like this by now.
He was not-so-gently placed (more like dropped) some place a bit apart of the rest, behind a naked Leiknir, who slowly turned around. His long hair was slung over his shoulder, a bit undulated due to being wet. His beard was gone, making him look more like an older Eirikr than ever, although his jaw was squarer and his face more stern and masculine over all. [Fig. 5]
Tino knew at once what was going on. Well, he’d been wrong concerning Leiknir being the one less likely to try, then.
He barely suppressed a sigh.
To be continued in part II...
Fffff. Can this be called a cliffhanger? I’m not even sure xD
Anyway, I hope you liked it. I’ll try to post the next one as soon as I can. Please remember to tell me whether you liked the illustration system (or want me to leink them directly in the fill), if I should keep making them at all, or if I should post them more integrated in the story. Also, is this an adequate turn from crack into historically accurate pseudo-crack, or should I keep it completely sense free? You can change the world, anons!
…I have also decided that, uh, fuck not answering comments on the page, so stay tuned xD
And now fanservice, just for you! http://s963.beta.photobucket.com/user/spg107/media/Of%20Finnish%20Trolls%20and%20Seductive%20Vikings/OFTaSV006.jpg.html?sort=3&o=4
Re: Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [5/5]
OP again. Commenting on this in class. Again. I'm such a rebel xD
Oh god I lol-ed all over the place when I read this (not in class, but after my roommates had gone to sleep last night so I should have been quiet anyway but OH WELL I GUESS I'M JUST A HORRIBLE PERSON). I completely love Norway's attitude towards sex, I can totally see that (and of course Denmark is undeterred).
I just love the way you're writing this, all of Finland's musings and little observations... And poor, poor Iceland, and the dynamic between Norway and Denmark, and OH GOD SVE WHY SO AWKWARD? It's all so perfect xD And of course all of the illustrations are wonderful as well, I'm just so lskdjfklskdjfl :D :D :D over those that I don't really know what more to say...
Totally looking forward to the rest of this, but take all the time you need, Anon! Moving is such a pain in the ass, don't stress yourself more than necessary :p And I'm loving the new-and-improved historical accuracy, I actually know very little about history, but it's always good to learn! It's a good balance and contrast with the crack, too.
And oh god, dat fanservice *o* Conveniently placed puffin, indeed *shot*
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [2/5]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-04 09:02 pm (UTC)(link)Somehow, he didn’t think it was because in one of the attempts the Finn had tried to steal his sword.
The look of jealousy on his brother’s face at seeing Berwald practically snuggling the Finn annoyed him to no extent.
He sighed, deciding that he would start his advances on Saturday—the “laugardagr”, the day of the bath, would surely give him many opportunities to be sexual (and, albeit fearing repetition, there was still that echo in his brain of ugh, sex)—if nothing else, then to protect his brother’s honour.
It was currently Thor’s day. Two days were really not enough time to prepare, but he had been “preparing” for a week already. Oh well, it would have to do.
***
Berwald was rather happy when at Freyja’s day morning Tino didn’t startle upon seeing him looking at him as he woke. Instead, the Finn grunted and turned around, and if Berwald hadn’t been so happy at the fact that Tino was comfortable enough to willingly turn his back to him, he might have noticed him rolling his eyes. [Fig. 3]
But he didn’t, contended with that trust he thought the other placed in him.
Tino, on the other hand, had just about had enough. The night before he hadn’t found sleep thinking about ways to escape. Berwald’s eyes had been closed, but it seemed that each time he moved a bit too sharply, he would find them glaring at him intensely after so much as blinking; now he just didn’t care.
It was also a bit too warm and comfortable to think about scary things.
The press of the other’s body against his was a bit too much, though, and his eyes snapped open.
Last week, when the Viking had started to sleep close to him, he had wondered if this was their next attempt of seduction. He just knew that there were more coming: that Magnus did not seem like the type to easily accept defeat (or his own stupidity, for that matter), and thus he constantly expected one of them to approach him that way; yet Berwald’s actions were way too awkward to be even remotely interpreted as courting, so he had had to arrive to the conclusion that this wasn’t what he was doing, and thus, that he had absolutely no idea what exactly it even was that he was doing.
(He would maybe have been amused and puzzled at seeing that it was seduction what Berwald was trying on him, although it was for reasons unlinked to the rest of the group.)
The other’s breath was hot on the back of his neck. It was actually rather terrifying if he went with the theory that he wasn’t flirting.
Maybe Berwald was just misunderstood and in constant need of a hug. Oh, that seemed so plausible he almost started chuckling; but he couldn’t relax fully, and slowly pried the other’s arm off him to signal that he wanted to get up.
He had been on this duty when Eirikrinahild—no, wait, Eirikr now—popped his head in the tent and started to mumble something about getting the hell up already because there was a ship at the harbour and they wanted to sell them stuff. His face, though, darkened immediately at seeing their position, and Tino felt an unavoidable pang of guilt.
He had maybe taken things a bit too far with the boy’s feelings a week ago.
Tino hadn’t wanted to hurt him in any way; he had just seen an occasion to have fun, and no one in their sane mind would depreciate that, would they? But the boy had apparently become a bit too attached during the hours they’d spent together, and the consequence was a quite obviously broken heart.
Berwald let go of him and they both stood up and washed their heads and faces as was Viking custom. Tino found it to be an agreeable habit, and was quite curious what this ‘washing day’ they had been talking about would be like. He wondered if to them it meant something like the sauna to the Finns; spiritual cleaning as well as physical, a place of silence and rebirth.
Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [3/5]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-04 09:04 pm (UTC)(link)(Oh. He missed his home.)
At the harbour was a small market. They hadn’t gathered much over the past week, but what they had, they were going to sell. It was mostly either hunted goods, things that Leiknir’s troll had found in the forest, or carved and manufactured crafts Berwald had made.
Tino was still amazed at how skilled Berwald’s immense hands could be. Even though the man quite obviously had to strain his view, which did not seem to be too accurate, he brought forth beautiful pieces of art.
Eirikr had Tino on a leash while the others sold their ware, being the only one not doing anything. Tino could maybe have overthrown him, but he felt a bit too sorry for that.
Immediately after joining the people at the harbour, Magnus had started flirting with the daughter of the captain of the newly arrived ship, to Leiknir’s great dismay; the shaman grunted and slapped the back of his head, but there was absolutely no way of denying that the girl did not seem displeased.
Tino mused.
He found it funny how, after spending a mere week with them, he new a lot about his captors, while they still seemed at a loss. Take, for example, their sexual customs; on account of constantly being suspicious, he had focused on that, and now thought to know what… floated their boats.
Magnus, as was rather obvious, swung both ways, just like the Finn himself. There was an air on him that just seemed to scream that when it came to sex, he liked both, um, ‘meat’ and ‘fish’, and damn him if he preferred either.
Eirikr, as sweet as he’d been dressed as a girl and as attached as he’d grown to Tino, seemed, possibly without even knowing it, to prefer the shy smiles of a girl to the rough companionship of another man. That is, if Tino hadn’t completely interrupted his development of a sexuality. The way he seemed to steal glances at the girls at the harbour made Tino certain that he hadn’t completely rattled his preferences, though, so maybe he did not have to feel so guilty. And, well, if Eirikr ended up being interested in both like his leader and his first love, he didn’t find anything wrong in that, either.
The creepy ones were harder, but he’d had a week to focus on them, after all.
Berwald, if he hadn’t completely lost his ability to judge people (and he was not entirely certain that this wasn’t the case, as Berwald pretty much turned everything he thought to know about the human psyche upside down with his illogical behaviour), preferred, if he was to continue with the food metaphor, ‘meat’. If he even ‘ate’ anything at all, that is. He was currently selling something to a fairly attractive girl, and his sentences were… complete, which was quite the accomplishment concerning this man, really—he didn’t once mumble like he usually did, and while the girl was not really subtle when brushing his hand with hers as he handled her his carved pieces, Berwald’s face didn’t seem interested at all.
He found this rather amusing. He knew the Vikings’ views respecting homosexuality (being the submissive partner was considered effeminate, thus weak, and punished). Then again, he could imagine Berwald glaring anyone who accused him of being effeminate to death. And, well, imagining Berwald as submissive was actually hard. (And interesting. Maybe.)
Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [4/5]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-04 09:10 pm (UTC)(link)Well, there had to be people who didn’t like ‘eating’ at all. It was impossible to starve this way, after all, wasn’t it?
He decided, as the others returned with purchased goods and money, that Leiknir was the one least likely to be next luring him.
***
“I could consider this humiliating, but everything you do is humiliating, so I guess I am used to it”, Leiknir said.
Magnus looked apologetic. His voice was a tad more careful than usual; whether this was because he feared another punch or not, Leiknir couldn’t quite tell. “Come on. You know I won’t think you any less of a man, don’t you? I’m having you around and doing your magic and you know I don’t think you’re weak, right? Or unmanly?”
He didn’t slap him, as Magnus seemed to be expecting.
This was because Leiknir was thankful. He’d been an outcast before: people knew that he was more than just a Runemaster, that he could talk to beings no one else saw and practice the Seiðr better than many women. [Fig. 4] Because of this he’d been accused of being argr—effeminate, unmanly, weak, to sum up: everything their society hated.
Of course he had challenged his accuser to a duel to settle the dispute and prove his virility, and of course he’d won; yet even then they all thought that he’d won because of supernatural help.
The only person able to testify this or not was dead now, but it didn’t matter.
Then Magnus had come, heard about the Seiðmaðr in town and sequestrated him and his brother, who’d been but a child of six winters back then. The rest was now.
But he would be ten times damned before he thanked the man. He already boosted enough as it was, and Leiknir wasn’t going to give him a reason to love himself even more.
Tentatively opening an eye after waiting for a hit without result, Magnus said, “I, um, just don’t think he likes beards. And, and you know they grow back! You’ll have that manly forest of manly wire and manliness growing manly out of your manly face again in no manly time, man!”
He kicked his shin for overusing the term he was at the same time so blatantly questioning, but picked up the razor Magnus had handed him and shaved before the piece of silver the man held up for him anyway.
The air was cold and strangely silky on his face afterwards, but it was oddly satisfying to see his own face again.
Magnus complimented him in ways that were awfully improper (particularly considering the fact that Leiknir didn’t want sex) and that didn’t make the fact that shaving someone’s beard usually was considered emasculating any better. When he felt the other’s hands on his ass he was too tired to punch him, so he lamely stepped on his boot.
Tomorrow was laugardagr.
***
Naked.
Vikings.
Naked Vikings.
Everywhere.
Tino wasn’t sure where to look and where not to look.
Berwald, on the other hand, seemed quite sure of what he wanted to be watching, and that was Tino. He wasn’t even hiding it—by Louhi, this man was weird. Maybe it was Viking custom to stare at each other without moving at all during laugardagr, except he didn’t see, say, Eirikr doing anything of the sort.
If Eirikr stared intensely, it was only at his own washcloth and under no circumstances anyone else, especially not Tino.
Magnus seemed interested in looking, yes, but more so in being looked at; he wandered around, occasionally stopping to stand at full height and full glory in the sunlight, letting it cast shadows on his skin where it was rippled with muscle, running his hand up and down his chest.
Tino wondered why, if they did this every Saturday.
Well, who was he to doubt Viking customs?
Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-04 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)Well, now Tino was distracted by the way the water licked wet trails down Berwald’s skin.
He had been at that when something tipped his shoulder, yet when he turned around there was nothing, so he continued to stare. Then it tipped him again. And again when he continued ignoring it, rather puzzled.
At some point, he could swear he heard a frustrated grunt, and something big that felt like enormous hands made of stone grabbed his shoulders and lifted him up effortlessly.
Oh, the view from above was also nice.
Berwald looked alarmed for a second, but didn’t get up; he must have been used to stuff like this by now.
He was not-so-gently placed (more like dropped) some place a bit apart of the rest, behind a naked Leiknir, who slowly turned around. His long hair was slung over his shoulder, a bit undulated due to being wet. His beard was gone, making him look more like an older Eirikr than ever, although his jaw was squarer and his face more stern and masculine over all. [Fig. 5]
Tino knew at once what was going on. Well, he’d been wrong concerning Leiknir being the one less likely to try, then.
He barely suppressed a sigh.
To be continued in part II...
Fffff. Can this be called a cliffhanger? I’m not even sure xD
Anyway, I hope you liked it. I’ll try to post the next one as soon as I can. Please remember to tell me whether you liked the illustration system (or want me to leink them directly in the fill), if I should keep making them at all, or if I should post them more integrated in the story. Also, is this an adequate turn from crack into historically accurate pseudo-crack, or should I keep it completely sense free? You can change the world, anons!
…I have also decided that, uh, fuck not answering comments on the page, so stay tuned xD
And now fanservice, just for you!
http://s963.beta.photobucket.com/user/spg107/media/Of%20Finnish%20Trolls%20and%20Seductive%20Vikings/OFTaSV006.jpg.html?sort=3&o=4
Re: Of Finnish Trolls and Seductive Vikings: Chapter 2a [5/5]
(Anonymous) 2013-03-05 07:56 am (UTC)(link)xD
(Anonymous) 2013-03-07 01:37 am (UTC)(link)Oh god I lol-ed all over the place when I read this (not in class, but after my roommates had gone to sleep last night so I should have been quiet anyway but OH WELL I GUESS I'M JUST A HORRIBLE PERSON). I completely love Norway's attitude towards sex, I can totally see that (and of course Denmark is undeterred).
I just love the way you're writing this, all of Finland's musings and little observations... And poor, poor Iceland, and the dynamic between Norway and Denmark, and OH GOD SVE WHY SO AWKWARD? It's all so perfect xD And of course all of the illustrations are wonderful as well, I'm just so lskdjfklskdjfl :D :D :D over those that I don't really know what more to say...
Totally looking forward to the rest of this, but take all the time you need, Anon! Moving is such a pain in the ass, don't stress yourself more than necessary :p And I'm loving the new-and-improved historical accuracy, I actually know very little about history, but it's always good to learn! It's a good balance and contrast with the crack, too.
And oh god, dat fanservice *o* Conveniently placed puffin, indeed *shot*