Love in the Age of the Vikings: How Norse Warriors Found and Courted Their Partners

These days, if you want a date, you reach for your phone. A few swipes, a clever emoji, maybe a …

These days, if you want a date, you reach for your phone. A few swipes, a clever emoji, maybe a clumsy joke in someone’s inbox, and voilà — you’re officially “courting.” 

The portal offering online dating for singles has prepared a historical excursion into the relationships of real ancient Vikings.

For the Vikings, things were a little different. No smartphones, no internet, and definitely no Tinder. Instead, young Norse men and women relied on feasts, family alliances, poetry, and a good deal of bravery to find their partners. And while their methods might look strange to us now, the heart of it all — the search for love, respect, and companionship — hasn’t really changed.

Imagine a smoky longhouse during a midwinter feast. The air is thick with the smell of roasted pork, pine resin burns in the fire, and children dart between benches stacked with food. Somewhere in the corner, a young farmer’s son is sneaking glances at a jarl’s daughter. He doesn’t have the option of sliding into her DMs, so what does he do? He waits until the skald — the poet — falls silent, then clears his throat and recites a few lines he’s been practicing for weeks. His voice shakes at first, but he finds his rhythm. He compares her hair to fields of golden rye, her smile to the calm after a storm at sea. The hall bursts into laughter and cheers. She blushes, but doesn’t look away. That, in Viking terms, is basically a successful “first message.”

Not every match was so spontaneous. Families had their say, often a loud one. Marriages were practical arrangements, tying together land, wealth, and political alliances. Fathers and uncles haggled over dowries and bride-prices the way traders argued over sacks of silver. Yet women weren’t voiceless in all this. A Viking woman could, and often did, say no. Sagas tell of proud daughters turning down powerful men who didn’t meet their standards. One legend even has a woman refusing to marry until her suitor cut his filthy hair and washed properly — proof that personal hygiene mattered long before modern deodorant ads.

Courtship could also involve dramatic displays. A man might wrestle, hunt, or duel to show off his courage. Generosity was crucial: a stingy Viking was about as attractive as a modern date who “forgets” their wallet at dinner. Gifts mattered. A carved comb, a polished amber bead, or a well-made cloak weren’t just tokens of affection — they were evidence that the man could provide. Still, women sometimes turned the tables. There are stories of Viking women boldly sending gifts to men they admired, or humiliating unwanted suitors by returning presents in front of the entire feast hall. In a culture that respected strong personalities, this kind of assertiveness only added to their mystique.

Weddings themselves were part sacred ritual, part rowdy party. Hands were tied together with cloth in a symbolic binding, Thor’s hammer might be laid in the bride’s lap for luck, and the couple sealed their union by drinking mead from the same cup. Then came days of feasting. Picture whole roasted oxen, endless mead horns, and warriors challenging each other to feats of strength while skalds sang love songs. The bride, dressed in a gown embroidered with silver thread, sat beside her new husband as guests toasted them until dawn. Children ran wild, dogs begged for scraps, and somewhere, probably, two relatives got into an argument about who caught the biggest fish last summer. It wasn’t just a marriage; it was a community celebration.

Married life was surprisingly balanced. While men sailed off to raid or trade, women managed farms, households, and businesses. A Viking wife might oversee servants, bargain at markets, and make sure winter stores lasted until spring. Archaeologists have even found runes carved with messages like “Remember me, I love you” or “Kiss me when you see this,” proof that Viking couples expressed affection just as openly as people today. Divorce was possible too. If a man was cruel, neglectful, or simply didn’t measure up, a woman could walk away — provided she had witnesses and the courage to face the social fallout. In many ways, Viking women enjoyed freedoms that their medieval European sisters could only dream of.

The myths also reinforced ideas of love and courtship. Freyr, the god of fertility, fell hopelessly in love with the giantess Gerðr and offered treasures to win her hand. Stories like this taught that persistence, generosity, and even vulnerability were part of love. They weren’t just war gods and death omens; the Norse pantheon had its fair share of romance.

And if you think Viking romance was always solemn, think again. Some sagas describe awkward suitors who bungled their proposals, or love triangles that ended in duels. Others show women teasing their would-be husbands, demanding they prove not just their bravery in battle but their ability to be patient and fair at home. Love wasn’t just about passion; it was about building a household, raising children, and surviving long winters together.

If all this sounds strangely familiar, that’s because it is. Yes, the details are different. Instead of swiping on a screen, you caught someone’s eye across a firelit hall. Instead of sending an emoji, you composed a verse. Instead of ghosting, you risked public shame or a blood feud. But the goals were the same. The Vikings, like us, wanted someone who made them laugh, someone who could be trusted, someone who made the long nights feel shorter.

Picture, finally, a scene that could have happened a thousand years ago: a woman at her loom, weaving bright wool into a patterned belt. A man enters the room, full of bravado about his victories abroad. She listens, then smirks. “It’s easy to be brave with a sword,” she says. “Show me patience at home.” He stumbles, caught off guard, while the others laugh. But he returns the next day, quieter, carrying a small gift: a comb carved with care. Slowly, he learns that winning her heart will require more than boasting. It will take respect, generosity, and humor. In other words, the same things that win hearts today.

So while modern singles scroll through apps, Vikings relied on poetry, courage, and family bonds. And just like us, they knew the thrill of a first glance, the anxiety of a first approach, and the joy of finding someone to share life’s burdens. In every age, whether through an app or under the gaze of Thor’s hammer, love has always been humanity’s greatest adventure.

Photo of author

Vasilis Megas

Vasilis Megas (a.k.a. Vasil Meg) lives in Athens, Greece. He is a Greek- and Norse Mythology enthusiast. Vasilis has written and published 16 books - mostly fantasy and science fiction - and he is now working as a content writer, journalist, photographer and translator.

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