"We will 'scissors, paper, rock'..."
"I am not sure what that is, my Lady.."
It was a horrible string of losses. Agonizing betrayals. And the worst part? Rosemarri was laughing! It was an infernal game, infuriating, confusing... there were no patterns to memorize, simply luck!
Loken's bloody game. The next worst part?
Rosemarri had won two hands against her in their wager, and by the time they had finished, they'd played about six, the pair tying each time after Astrid's losses. There wasn't really a goal there... the Shieldmaiden was prepared to wager a gold coin or something material, not fancy hand shapes.
The ride back to Southwatch had the Huntress practicing those hand motions. One, two, three... paper!
It wasn't as fun by yourself.
The night was young still as far as she was concerned as she led her steed to the stables, tending to the mare with careful brushing, food, and proper rest. Astrid hurried to her room, praying her husband was already there and warming the furs for her arrival. The Jarl almost pouted when he wasn't, and she huffed but continued her nightly ritual of cleaning herself after a long day.
Her hair had begun to dry in their wild array of curls by the time the door had carefully opened, her Knight careful in case she had been sleeping. Blood stained his armor, caked partially in a wild lion's mane of blonde hair and braids. His expression warmed when he saw her waiting expectantly at the edge of their bed, her leather bindings waiting to be collected in his palms when he'd settled.
Astrid grinned when he saw her, and a hand had lifted wordlessly for him. Varsen's hands had planted themselves on either side of her as he bent down at the waist, and Astrid brushed the side of her nose against his affectionately.
"Verr." She hummed, and he issued a throaty grunt in response. They shared in a kiss before her knuckles brushed gently against his jaw.
"Lady Sunshield introduced a game to me." Astrid began, grinning when his lips ghosted over the corner of her mouth, then her cheek and jaw, and her nose crinkled playfully at the tickle of his beard against her face.
"Did she?" Varsen rumbled, peeling back just enough to fix that bright blue stare onto his wife's face. He noted the excitement glimmering behind her eyes, and his lips twitched in a grin as he straightened to loose the armor from his body.
"Aye. It is called 'rock, scissors, paper'." She began leadingly, and he fixed a curious and amused stare over his shoulder to her beaming face as he peeled his tabard off first.
"And it is a game?" He asked again, and she could hear the crinkle in his brow though his back was to her.
"More like a wager. I thought that's what we were doing until I realized this wager had no fists or coin involved..." Astrid grinned, then shrugged. Ladies didn't use their fists to settle brawls down south anyway it seemed. She laughed when his head tilted, watching the gears turn.
"A wager with no coin... nothing else?" He was just as perplexed as she was. Astrid laughed again as he finished disrobing, turning to fix her with an incredulous stare. That deepened when he saw she was displaying her hands, one closed fist over top of a flat palm.
"Let me show you. Best two of three?" She challenged with a fanged grin. He scoffed quietly at her, though amusement danced behind a timeless stare, and he settled next to her, mimicking loosely her hand positions.
"Paper beats rock, scissors beat paper, and rock beats scissors." She nodded, making the hand motions as she explained them, and he grunted in response, squinting.
"Rock is rock, kván.." Varsen rumbled, and she shook her head. He assented with a shrug.
"Against scissors it is. The same shapes are a draw and we try again. Go on three." Astrid grinned, and it was hard to beat her confidence. She practiced the whole ride home, after all.
His paper covered her rock. She blinked.
"Is that it?" He asked, furrowing his brow.
"... yes. Again!" She nodded to their hands.
His scissor hesitantly clamped over her paper. Astrid stared at their hands. What the fuck. He saw her bewilderment and grinned like a madman.
"One two three." Astrid counted quickly.
His rock smacked her scissors, a fist gently swatting her fingers.
"That's three, my love." He grinned, the utmost of shit eating grins she'd ever seen. Astrid simply stared, compressing her lips.
"Five out of six." Astrid huffed, pinching her brows together. Varsen barked out a laugh at that expression.
"What's wrong, Little Wolf? This is fun." He chimed, lifting his hands between them again. He still wore that grin.
"You can't win every time after I showed you the fucking game!" She cried in her outrage, boggled at the outcome, and he laughed again.
"Come on then!" Varsen challenged.
"One, two, three!" Astrid tried again, exasperated.
Once more, his scissors clamped over her paper. Laughter filled the Northmen's room, mingled with her sounds of frustration.
"How do you even cheat?!"
Some say the games continued until the wee hours of dawn, the Knight-Captain having the Gods and luck on his side... Astrid didn't win a single fucking round.
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