A/N: This is my AU where Dethklok are all Vikings. Right now it is more Skwisgaar centric but as the story progresses the other members will make an appearance. Due to the small to no existent language barrier in scandinavia at the time there are no accents (yet) and the they have the ability to understand eachother.

I do not own Metalocalypse or profit from this

The life of a viking was a lot harder than most people thought. It wasnt just rape, pillage, war and drink. No it was work. First of all there were ranks. Starting from as low vikings cleaning after the muck the horses left, (or the the vikings themselves) to as high as a viking leader who claimed riches and land for his clan. Yes sir, it was work, and the Scandinavian lands had many riches to offer. Now one does not simply become a Viking. You had to be recruited in. Of course no one is going to come out and "Hey! We are looking for men who want to be horrible, vile slob, thieving Vikings" Oh no. They have much more subtler ways. Such as Shanghai, or Recruiting "soldiers" with the promise of pay. Sadly for a young man name Skwisgaar Skwigelf his fate met with the former.

"Ugh.. where am I?" Skwisgaar sat up and ran his hand through his golden hair. He was not in bed with a very buxom wench like he remembered. In fact what did he remember? Mead, lots of mead. Skwisgaar took in his surroundings. Dirt floor, wood plank and stone walls, hay ceiling, fur lined bed. Was he in a village somewhere? He heard a voice from outside the the house.

"How could you make such a stupid mistake?"

"He certainly did not look like a he, when we grabbed him." Another voice.

"You fool, he was with a whore"

"We thought he was one."

The voices were arguing back and forth. Skwisgaar stood up with a groan and walked out the door. He was met with a great fire ball, called the sun, grassy hills and plains and two short fat men squabbling.

"Hey you!" he yelled across to them "where am I?" They looked perplexed at him. Well he certainly didn't sound like a woman.

"Get back in your hut be-" one of the short fat men was interrupted by a great war cry.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGG HHHHHAAAAAAAA!" which was followed by laughter.

Skwisgaar turned to see a great beast of a man surrounded by more fierce looking men. Each men wore Viking garbs, sported reasonably sized beards and carried at least two swords. Skwisgaar knew he was fucked.

"Where is my tonight's lay?" asked the beast of a man. The short fat men looked at each other and started talking wildly about being deceived, whore's magic, poisoned mead and maybe a cow was inserted a time or two. The great man put his meaty hand as if a magic command made them stop talking. "are you telling me, you have not gotten me a whore?"

The men looked at their feet. Shame creped over them. The great man looked at Skwisgaar. He walked over to him and looked him up and down. "he could do. He is pretty enough. Might kill him though." He laughed . Skwisgaar sneered. As big as this man is there is no way he is going to be a sex toy to him. "Prepare him!" he commanded Skwisgaar spat and stood his ground. When the two short man went to grab him he grabbed ones wrist and bent his arm backwards and slammed his fist into the elbow so it broke. The other reached for a dagger but a swift kick to the balls quickly disarmed it, which he grabbed and stabbed through his chubby palms pinning him to the ground. Skwisgaar was no one play thing for a reason and he wasn't to shy to express his feelings towards being one either. He spat again and glared at the men as if to say "I dare ya! Try to fuck me"

He sneered at the so called Vikings. No armour, no Helm with horns or sexy pudgy woman singing. "Pfft" they weren't so tough as the as the tales of the village people proclaimed. The only sign of a real Viking was the great big man that wanted him as a sex toy. But after the performance he put on, that idea was sure to have changed. The big man sure looked interested but not for the same reason he has before. "Kill him" with those two words a couple of other men charged him. He stood and fought. And he fought hard and well. He was able a cripple five, but two particularly big ones had him pinned , and he was struggling for dear life,well his life. The big man walked over to the now pinned Skwisgaar and smiled. This tall lanky man was able to cripple seven of his warriors without a single weapon. He had an idea. An evil idea. "well what are you waiting for? I want his head on a stake!" Skwisgaar's eyes were wide with shock and desperation. But there was no way he could get out of this hold. The only choices left were die or bargain... One choice.

"WAIT!" he yelled with all the life he had left. "I would like to join your clan" The big man smiled. Plan was going into action quite easily. He walked over to Skwisgaar making sure to go as slow as possible.

"You would?" The great man faked a look of confusion as he looked back at Skwisgaar. Skwisgaar looked nearly desperate right back at him.

"y-yes I would" The big man looked pleased and through a sword to Skwisgaar.

"Then get out of that pin and prove yourself." Skwisgaar was granted one last chance and God did he take it. He kicked and flailed and wiggle his skinny body out of the hold (much like a worm) grabbed the sword and with a feral look in his eyes took his stance. All the men came after him. He stood his ground and fended them off, hook left and stabbed right. Odin and Frejya would be proud for his technique in the fight. All those drunken bar fights had made him a warrior for his own cause, and right now it was his life. Golden locks swayed through the air like cascading gold rivers, He was as fierce as he was beautiful. Most of the men were mesmerized by the beauty of the locks that reflected the sun like gold. Skwisgaar used this as an opening. He jumped on one man's chest and swiftly stabbed his sword through his chest. He jumped back and continued the fight with the rest of the men, spilling more blood than he himself had lost. Feral, covered in blood, the big Viking saw that he needed to be stopped. He clapped his big meaty hands as to signal the end of a show. The remaining Viking back off. Skwisgaar's clothes were ripped and he was covered in blood but he proved to them that he was a force to reckoned with. Skwisgaar Skwigelf was no ones fuck toy.

Skwisgaar panted as he stood straight. Waiting for the Viking's word. The seconds that passed by felt like years. The Viking laughed. A great mighty laugh. Skwisgaar released a breath he did not know he held. The Viking walked to wear he stood with a great smile plastered on his face.

"What a performance! Well you surely have proven yourself brother. Welcome to the clan of Bergson!" He cheered. The Others cheered with him. "You must know the name of me, eh?" Skwisgaar knew the name well. Bram Bergson, was told to be the most vile of the Vikings of the respective territory. He prayed to Odin that he would not come across him in a fight. Odin could have been on his side for this. "Let us celebrate in the village! Have the woman bring us Mead with the finest froth" Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, being a rotten scoundrel.

The Vikings walked and cheered all through the village. Skwisgaar took count that there were a number of women with a variety of ages. Wives, children, and the such. Someone had to do the dirty work while the men had the fun. Seemed reasonable. There were children to be had and food to be made. The women looked Skwisgaar up and down like he was a piece of meat, that they all wanted a bite of. He wouldn't be bored at least he thought. The Vikings continued to lead him through the village until they made it to the village pub. They shoved him in a seat and they cheered a roared around their little fire pit. It was still daytime, no need to get completely wasted yet. They continued to roar and talk until the sun had settle and the real festivities could begin. They had to celebrate their newest clansmen.

"Bring the fattest of whores" hollered Bergson. Three well fed ladies were brought in front of him. He looked over them, checking every angle, until he clapped his hands and smiled. He picked a particular buxom one with curly blonde hair and big brown eyes and went off somewhere. Skwisgaar was looking at some of the ladies and wondering if he could go off with one as well.

"Don't even think about it." Skwisgaar was snapped out of his thoughts by a gangly young man. "Bergson keeps the whores he chooses to himself. He doesn't like to share." Pfft though Skwisgaar. He took a big gulp of his mead and looked for other Bedmates. He couldn't help but notice the gangly man still looking at him.

"May I help you?" Skwisgaar asked full of haughtiness. The gangly man just smiled as he didn't catch on sarcasm in the his tone.

"No, not at all. But you are the new clansmen right? I am Grubber. I clean out most of the stables." Grubber smiled trying to be friendly. Skwisgaar sneered but still acknowledged his kindness and offered him a place to sit at the fire pit.

"So what is it like here?" He asked wanting to know more of his surroundings. Grubber looked thoughtful as he was trying to think.

"It is just like an average village, just more robust." He laughed. "Its a good thing you didn't become his lay. He would have killed you right when he finished with you." Skwisgaar was perplexed. If a good lay was a good lay, would you keep your lay?

"Why is that?"

"Bergson met a Christian man, Men should not lie with other men, they told him. Or he would die and go to the fiery pits of Hel. Bergson believes it is Odin who sent that man to him. He outlawed it around the village. Men who lie with men will be killed." Grubber looked down like it was a sad truth.

"But Bergson would have been willing to lie with me" Skwisgaar spat.

"Yes but you would be the woman. Bergson feels that if the man becomes the woman he would want nothing but to lie with men."

"Pffffft idiot" Skwisgaar spat, and drank another goblet of mead. Grubber looked at him in question.

"would you lay with a man?" He asked cautiously not to offend.

Skwisgaar was surprised to see how this conversation escalated. "It wouldn't matter to me. I have no special preferences." he shrugged. Grubber laughed. Another man decided he was interested in their conversation and blurted out a question " A skinny twig?"

Skwisgaar shrugged. "Sure."

"Fat as a cow but strong as an ox?" another asked.

Skwisgaar laughed. "Of course. They can hold out for themselves" Soon the whole bar was in an all out conversation of the woman they had slept with, the places they had been. By this time everyone was beyond drunk and began singing and cheering. They all sang as in unison

The sun rose over the wasteland
As far as the eye can see
Sand fills the vast plains of Serkland
It's vultures jeering at me

But they can circle until they drop dead
I have not come this far
To end, but to pursue my own thread
To join The Varangian Guard

Skwisgaar had felt nothing like this. He felt like he was part of something. He had a family? In some sort. Back where he had come from, he was nothing but a traveller doing small jobs just for a night in a inn and a whore. But here he felt like had something He smiled, threw his goblet and finished singing with the others:

The axe-bearing foreigners they have aptly named us
All we've come from afar
Diversity is what unites us
We are The Varangian Guard!

By the last line everyone was entangled, drunk and laughing their asses off. Even Bergson the horrid, who finished with his whores had joined in.

Skwisgaar who was to drunk to function had to be partially carried to his new home by Grubber. He half laid half slouched on his bed and bid Grubber goodnight. Well his day was eventful. He passed out as soon as he closed his eyes.

Skwisgaar was shook awake by a big meaty hand. Bergson. Skwisgaar mumbled, groaned and sat up. But not to fast he was a tad morning sick. Bergson laughed his loud hefty laugh. And patted him so hard Skwisgaar nearly fell over.

"Al right time to get you trained." Bergson pulled the skinny and tall man to his feet. Truth be told. Skwisgaar was almost as tall as Bergson Standing up straight, Bergson is a really tall man.

"Kid, I don't believe I got your name"

"Skwisgaar, Skwisgaar Skwigelf." he looked sheepishly. He had a masculine first name but his last, the name he will name his children, was kinda weak. Bergson laughed. And patted (again) Skwisgaar on his back. Skwisgaar nearly choked on his own tongue for that one.

"That, my new friend, is definitely a Viking's name, Odin must have sent you here!" Skwisgaar was again confused. He was definitely sure it was his men that poisoned him and brought him here. Bergson rubbed his hands together manically "We will be able to take the Kyrri Clan's Territory by next year for sure!" Bergson was eager. Skwisgaar knew of the Kyrri clan as well. Asmund Kyrri was told to be the noblest and strongest of the Vikings. He was said to had descended From the long lost Kärrhök Clan. While Bergson had brawn, Kyrri had the brains. And in certain circumstances both. No one tried to take over his territory without repercussions. "Let's begin training! At once!"

Bergson hastily grabbed Skwisgaar and ran outside.