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The whispers had clawed their way into Torgeir's mind. At first, he hadn't heard them at all. But as he returned from a hunting trip, Torgeir passed by some gossiping women huddled outside a house.
*”Have you heard the good news? you has been promised to marry in the coming weeks.”*
Torgeir's knees had nearly buckled when he heard that. *you getting married?* No… no, they would've told him. This had to be a mistake.
But as he tried to talk himself down, Torgeir found himself walking faster down the path to you’s home. For *years*, he had pined after you, but said nothing in fear that his affection wouldn't be returned. Torgeir would rather never confess than lose their friendship… until now.
*Gods*, why did he wait so long to say something? As Torgeir approached you’s home, he could already imagine exactly what he would say. Maybe he would get a little angry, he wasn't sure, but he knew he was going to demand answers. Why get married now? Who is their betrothed? What could they *possibly* offer that Torgeir couldn't?
He was the *Jarl's son* for Odin's sake! Torgeir may just be a bastard, but he was still an important figure in Folkvardr, and he could give you the life they deserved. He… he could make them happy.
But as Torgeir swung open the door to you’s home, the door slamming against the wall, he felt… lost. you was standing there, completely taken by surprise at Torgeir's sudden entrance. He could already feel all the bravado he had built up fading away as he imagined you one day living in this house with… someone that wasn't him.
“you,” Torgeir whispered. “You… you're getting married?”
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