A wee bit of backstory.

Well, I've been asked to post some more of my fiction works up here. Here be another of the Bear and Redjay stories. Again, Intellectual property of myself, Jared G. Juckiewicz, Characters belonging to Lamia Macdonald. Except those with a basis in real people, which really means two-thirds of the main characters. Those who know me may recognize certain parallels... kindly keep them to yourselves. And be warned, bad language is present, and much Alcohol is consumed.

The Bear was drunk. Whats more the Bear was more drunk than his companion the Redjay. This had never happened before. Even she, his closest confidante, the woman who'd had his back since he was outlawed, across the length and breadth of England, up the coast of England and Scotland by trading cog and viking raider, then out to Norway, east through the lands of Finn, and of Svaer and of Suomi, and then south down the Dneiper to Miklagaard. They'd even sworn oath together as Varangians and taken their baptisms side by side (Something they had been forced into by the Emperor, who would not have an open heathen in his guard).
She didn't know what had set him off. She'd never seen him like this before, despite that they'd been fighting aside each other for damn near a year now. In fact, it had been exactly a year when she thought of it, and perhaps that was it. He'd left the palace alone in the morning, after making arrangements to meet at this tavern come evening. And, almost an hour late, he'd stormed in, stormed up to where the tavernkeeper plied his trade, and demanded drink. Ale, Mead, Saxon Jaeger, Rus Vodka, even Scottish Uisquebagh, he hadn't cared. Even now, he was raising a toast. Hefting his fist, tankard gripped in it high in the air, he began to bellow. 'To The Bitch and her Bounty-Hunter. Without Whom I wouldn't be where I am today.' And as he finished, he downed his full tankard in one, suds running down his face and his armour. As soon as it was empty, he slammed it down on the wooden table, and bellowed for another.
Whilst he was waiting, he sat back down, landing heavily on the chair. He leaned to his side, and began to speak to the stranger sitting there. "'Tis How I wound up here. Witch told me I was the only one for her. And here I find her carrying on with a bounty hunter. Well, I took issue, and so did he. Helped a bit that he wanted the bounty on my prisoner." and here he looked around, his head wobbling wildly, until he caught sight of the Redjay, standing back a ways with their new companion. He was a knight, a Knight Templar in fact, and had no clue that the only reason his newfound friends followed christian ways was the Varangian Guard would not take those who refused to change from the old ways. Bear pointed at her. 'It was her' he said. 'Prisoner not bitch. She's no bitch, she's a birdie. Redjay, Redjay we called her when we put the price on her head. Vicious things Redjays...' A pause here, whilst he bellowed for the tavernkeep to hurry up with his Ale. 'Where Was I? Ah, yes. Vicious things. Bounty. He tried to steal her. Already stealed one woman from me. Put an axe through him. Punched the head into his throat.' Here his ale arrived, and he took a long draught,
Wobbled a bit. Straightened up. 'Murder. Black, Bloody Murder. Not Bloody Enough. Shoulda Blood-Eagled Him. You know what the Blood-Eagle is? NO? Well, I'll no tell you. Tis a practice of Wodin. I'm not supposed to follow Old One-Eye. I'm a christian now. Christian I tell you. Says otherwise I'll fight you, Lord O' Thunder help me.' 'Twas about this point, the Redjay decided to intervene. She wandered over next to him, and stood behind him. He leaned his head back till the top of it rested on her stomach. And staring straight up at her chin, he says in a surprisingly steady tone. 'Here she is, Lady Redjay. She helped me, she did. Held off his mates, till I had to parry with my teeth. Don't step back.' It was too good an opportunity to miss. She did. And he fell. There was laughter. Much laughter. Which grew all the more when he swung his legs off the bench, grabbed the worst offender, and yanked.
Muscles raised in the guard and harden by a year of hard living, battle and travel dragged the man to the floor, and dragged the Bear to one knee. Whilst normally, the Bear was a happy drunk, something had him off colour. He didn't even bother with the man he'd just unseated, beyond putting an elbow into the mans crotch. He just stared at the others laughing, and growled low in his throat. Whilst their new companion, the spaniard called Javier, Peacock by his friends, didn't know him well enough to see what was coming, the Redjay did. Sadly, she was not quick enough to stop him. With one of his trademarked roars, he lept at the first table he could that had people laughing at it.
He suddenly seemed far more sober now that he had adrenaline coursing. His fist struck left and right, until the Redjay and the Peacock grabbed him from behind. They yanked him back and slammed him to the ground. 'What is with you today' The Redjay snarled at him, but he stayed silent. After a minute or two he even stopped struggling. 'Let me up. I'll not kill them.' he said softly. As he stood, shakily, he stared at her, and spoke slowly and softly. "'Twas a year ago today I learned of it. She'd sworn me oath, and she broke it. Broke them. I was already in a dark mood. And after the mockery I had before I left with you, I had no stomach for more.' Another slight pause. 'I'm sorry. I'll be off now, before I cause more trouble.' As he turned to leave, his companions, old and new followed. 'We'll get some drink, and raise a toast together, Bear.' the Redjay told him, knowing enough to not leave him alone. And with that, they set out into the street, heading back to the Varangian wing of the palace.