Fate Rebellion

"Hahaha, it was a glorious victory!" the man roared loudly as he violently clapped another man on his shoulder. "We sent many men to their eternal battle in Valhalla that day, my friend!" 

"And may there be many more like it, my king!" the other man laughed back, albeit slightly more subdued. 

This was Harald Hardrada as he socialized with his friends and allied jarls, who'd come to attend this event. He appeared like a gregarious host and mighty warrior, yet there was always a cunning glint in his eyes. 

Rurik, who stood a little off to the side, did not fail to notice that glint. 'It's no wonder he accomplished so much in his life,' Rurik thought as he observed his father with a scrutinizing gaze. 'Had he been born in my original time; I would have recruited him immediately.' 

Rurik was dressed in furs and thick leather, like most people there, and already stood at a height of 1.55 meters (5'1"), despite his young age. His hair always looked a little dishevelled and fell to his neck, while his piercing blue eyes shone with uncanny intelligence and maturity. 

Finally taking his eyes of Harald, Rurik panned his gaze across the many guests instead. His hawkish eyes scanned their faces, and his experience told him what he already knew: they were watching him. 

But that was no surprise. Not only was he the king's oldest, legitimate son, but tales of his meteoric growth and potential had already spread far. Some looked at him with hostility, others with curiosity, and a few were considering when the best time would be to introduce him to their daughters or nieces. 

Rurik scoffed indifferently at the hostile gazes. He knew what they were about. For some it was jealousy, but for most it was because they didn't want him to inherit the throne—for reasons that Rurik found utterly laughable. 

The fact was, current politics in this era of Norway were complicated. Christianity was slowly making inroads among the nobility, but many still worshipped the Norse pantheon, and resisted this foreign faith—it was the latter faction which was most hostile to him. 

He had a half-brother: Magnus. Magnus was technically the older brother, but he was also born to Tora Torbergsdottir, who was Harald Hardrada's concubine, while Rurik's mother, Elisiv of Kiev, was his legally married wife. 

Now, the inheritance laws as propagated by the Christian church stated that the oldest legitimate son would inherit everything. By these laws, Magnus was technically a bastard, and not allowed to inherit anything, but traditional Viking inheritance was not as rigid, and often determined by the Thing, a Viking council of sorts. 

Add to that the fact that Rurik's mother was a foreign bride from Kiev, while Tora was a trueborn northerner, and there were plenty of traditionalists who preferred Magnus over Rurik, and Christian converts who thought differently. 

Thus, Rurik and Magnus had somehow ended up in the middle of a war of faith, where the Christians supported him, and the traditionalists favoured Magnus. 

Currently, however, Magnus was studying under the tutelage of his grandfather, and not at court. In fact, Rurik and Magnus have had very little interaction between each other, as if something or someone was trying to keep them apart… 

But Rurik didn't care about that. 

'I've never been a man of faith, but if they wish to support me, I'll take it,' Rurik chuckled grimly. 'Not that I care so much about the Norwegian throne,' he then continued indifferently. 'I'm far more interested in the English one…' 

Harald Hardrada's attempt to claim England was tale of legends in the modern age, so it was naturally known to Rurik—as was the way it ended. 'But with me here, I bet I can alter things a little,' he thought to himself. 

But those were future plans. Rurik knew his father came to power in the year 1046, which he learned by now was two years before he was born. Since he was nine, that made the current year 1057, giving him another nine years before Harald sailed for England. 

Suddenly, as he surveyed the surroundings, a young boy about the same age as him quickly closed the distance. "Hey, Boss!" the boy exclaimed with a wide grin. "Guess what I found out!" 

"Remembered what I said about stealth, Leifur?" Rurik grumbled as he rolled his eyes. 

"Ah—!" Leifur chuckled awkwardly. "S— Sorry, Boss." 

Quickly, he lowered his voice and whispered in Rurik's ear, before running off again. Meanwhile, Rurik nodded indifferently at the inane piece of gossip he'd just heard, but still filed it away in his mind. 

Besides training hard, Rurik had also created the beginnings of a spy network in the last year, using much the same tactics he employed during his previous life. It had been difficult to compensate for the loss of Luna, but he was experienced enough to make it work. 

Plus, he had a far better understanding of his own ability this time around. Somewhere along the way, he and Luna realized that their abilities also came with an aura that extended around them. Luna's aura would make people slightly more submissive in her presence, while Rurik's aura would make them view him a little more favourably. 

Of course, he also knew what his active ability was by now, but that would still be useless for a few more years. 

Regardless, his spy network hadn't born much fruit yet, but he didn't care. It was intended for the future, when these same kids would still be his operatives and bring him far more important information. 

"What did he want, big brother?" the curious, young voice of his little sister Maria drifted over from the side. 

Maria was seven years old now, and while obviously not at the same level as Rurik, she was still an exceptionally bright kid. Unlike Rurik, she'd inherited the blond hair and amber eyes of her mother. Her height resembled more or less the average for their age, at 1.2 meters (3'11"), meaning she was a good head shorter compared to him. 

Rurik looked at her indifferently and shook his head, "Don't worry about it, Maria. Just a bit of gossip." 

His indifference was practiced, but difficult. The original Rurik of this timeline baulked against it, but current Rurik forced those feelings aside. After a few months, he still wasn't sure what he felt for his family in this life. 

Maria pouted slightly and crossed her arms indignantly. "Meanie… You should be nicer to your sister! You were much nicer a few months ago!" 

The corner of his mouth twitched, as he actually felt his heart sting a little. He'd never had a little sister before. It was a foreign feeling, but he didn't hate it… 

"Sorry…" he grumbled a half-hearted apology, still trying to keep his distance. 

Instantly, Maria's expression melted, and she wrapped her arms around him. "I forgive you, big brother!" she smiled brightly, once again hammering against Rurik's defences. 

''Who knew having a little sister was this difficult…?' Rurik groaned inwardly.