Of Rain and Sun

Official ambassador from Asgard to Alfheim, and son of Njord of Noatùn. [Affiliated with Beyond the Bifrost.]

[michaelcorderoes]

It’s not like we’re college professors calling ourselves doctors. That’s not the same thing my friend.

[erymanthian]

[swordreign]

By Simon Harsent

[story-dj]

[game-of-style]

Fur trimmed cape for Cley Cerwyn, the heir of House Cerwyn, sworn to Winterfell - Gucci Spring 2018

[motherofthenine]

odinborsonallfather:

balderoncebrave:

shieldofasgard:

arrowsbro:

handwriting  can  tell  you  a  lot  about  a  person  .  go  here  and  reblog  with  your  character’s   handwriting  style! 

[freyroftheharvest]

[fashionsfromhistory]

Banyan

c.1750-1800

Rijksmuseum

[yassmines]

imco

in my correct opinion

[miauleth]

Takeshi Kaneshiro as Zhuge Liang | Red Cliff | 2008

[freyroftheharvest]

Pleasantries | Closed RP

[freyroftheharvest]

lightofthenine:

shieldofasgard:

balderoncebrave:

“I do not know what sort of disguises you might have on hand, but I still … I do not know how well I would be able to hold up under any sort of questioning,” Balder said after finishing the place settings. “A disguise is one thing, but … you know I am not very … I am not adept at acting,” he insisted glumly.

“And even if I were to … certainly there would need to be some discussion as to who we are meant to be before we go in.” 

Sif rolled her eyes, “Just let me do most of the talking. It will be fine!” Of course they would need to nail down specifics, but that was what the evening was for. Freyr would surely provide them with everything they would need. 

“I was never in espionage,” Gerdr huffed her answer at her husband. “We never did put much stock in that area as I recall–at least not back then. Apparently, some methods have changed since I left.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the steam coming from the pot upon the stove. “The vegetables should be done,” she nodded in their direction while she and Sif enjoyed the rest of their ‘break.’ She made no move to fetch and strain them. “Which means the pheasants should be just about ready as well.”

“As it is with your situation, though,” she went on, “even if you are to do the talking, you ought to cover a few basics together. How long have you been married? How did you first meet? Where do you live? Whose family members do you visit, and which do you avoid?” she set her questions between the two. “Basic things ought to be laid out first.”

“Well, things did get decidedly more Vanir once we married into the inner circle, as you’ll recall.” Freyr rolled his eyes at the window, back turned to his wife. Moving to strain the vegetables with an expert smoothness, he lifted the pot with a small grunt as he dealt with its contents. 

[freyroftheharvest]

Pleasantries | Closed RP

[freyroftheharvest]

lightofthenine:

balderoncebrave:

shieldofasgard:

Sif’s eyes flickered between each of the couple. She could feel the tension between Freyr and Gerdr growing thick in the room, almost stifling. “It is…official Einherjar business, Lady Gerdr,” Sif tried to placate.

“I doubt Lord Freyr was free to speak of it before now,” Sif tried on a smile. “Balder and I are to infiltrate a smuggling ring posing as a married couple who we captured. We will be conducting the purchase so that we can catch the culprits in the act. We would not wish for anyone to accidentally hear the plans before we got there. So it had to be hush-hush.”

Balder had separated the first set of utensils to rest on either side of the table space for the first seat before he glanced up with Gerdr’s accusing tone. “Sif is right–it was not … it was not intended as anything against you,” he trued to reassure.

“And it all sounds rather straightforward, but we will need more detail if we are to … act our parts with any sort of credibility,” he placed the next two settings. “At least I am certain I will.”

Gerdr skewed her brow. “Because they both look like mercenary smugglers?” She leaned forward onto the central countertop as the boys went about their work.

She had to agree with Balder–they would need more to go on to be convincing. For Balder, perhaps an excruciatingly detailed script.

“That is what disguises are for,” Freyr answered blandly. Why did she insist on making things so difficult. It was hard enough as it was to convince Balder to go in on it. Gerdr’s objections would only make it more so. 

“Surely you remember from your days as an active soldier amongst the Einherjar?”

[attackoftheclothes]

Robes for Galen Erso Jotaro Saito, Spring 2015

[lightofthenine]

Confession | Closed RP

[freyroftheharvest]

lightofthenine:

freyroftheharvest:

“Did it?” Freyr watched the flickerings of confusion over Hoder’s face, chasing one another like dragonflies across a pond. “Is that not a strange place for sweat to be? You would have had to sweat profusely onto the head of the arrow before knocking it, but would you not have picked it up by the fletching and knock to draw it from the quiver?”

Indeed the more he thought on it, the stranger it seemed. Hoder would only have noticed the wet when he drew the arrow back and set it along his finger to loose. That meant that it would already have had to be wet. But wet with what?

“That–that is true, but it …” Hoder’s concession came immediately on the heels of his agreement, spurred to swallow up what he had said. “It was nothing. I was nervous. It was hot.”

His words echoed identically in tone to those he had said before, automatic.

“I shot the arrow. I killed him.”

He squirmed a little in his seat.

“So you’ve said,” Freyr took the words in stride, frowning deeply as the old man went back to his former statement. It was robotic, automatic...As though he were reciting. 

The assertions that Freyr had built up in his mind that Hoder was guilty, that he had confessed to a crime he knew he had done and wanted to be punished for, were starting to crumble. Hogun had insisted that the old man was not guilty. Someone else’s work was at play.

He closed his eyes, breathing in deep through his nose. Damn. 

“Would you not have picked up the arrow by the fletching and knock to draw it from the quiver, Master Hoder?”

[lightofthenine]

Confession | Closed RP

[freyroftheharvest]

lightofthenine:

freyroftheharvest:

He had been sweating, perhaps, but it was strange all the same. Such a thing to notice. But Freyr had noticed his own hands growing slick against the hilt of his broadsword before. It was distinct – it was different from the general feel of the blade in his palm. 

“Was it damp with sweat?” It seemed wrong though. The Bodkin was at the top of the arrow, and Hoder wouldn’t have handled it enough to transfer sweat.

“It–” Hoder’s throat clenched up, blocking the rest of his sentence. With a laboured, breath, he pushed through, but the timbre of his voice had changed, falling flat and dull over the empty air of the cell.

“It had to have been. I was nervous. It was hot.”

Hoder’s hands clenched, tightening over his knees.

“Did it?” Freyr watched the flickerings of confusion over Hoder’s face, chasing one another like dragonflies across a pond. “Is that not a strange place for sweat to be? You would have had to sweat profusely onto the head of the arrow before knocking it, but would you not have picked it up by the fletching and knock to draw it from the quiver?”

Indeed the more he thought on it, the stranger it seemed. Hoder would only have noticed the wet when he drew the arrow back and set it along his finger to loose. That meant that it would already have had to be wet. But wet with what?

[lightofthenine]

Confession | Closed RP

[freyroftheharvest]

lightofthenine:

freyroftheharvest:

“It felt like what,” Freyr prompted. The old man was struggling somehow. He looked like he was in pain.

“Are you alright?”

Hoder ground his teeth as he shook his head. “It was my arrow,” he affirmed. “My make–it could not have been anyone else’s.”

His tongue clicked, hesitating over something more. “It … I must have been nervous … and it was hot,” he excused. “That was why the bodkin felt damp.”

He had been sweating, perhaps, but it was strange all the same. Such a thing to notice. But Freyr had noticed his own hands growing slick against the hilt of his broadsword before. It was distinct -- it was different from the general feel of the blade in his palm. 

“Was it damp with sweat?” It seemed wrong though. The Bodkin was at the top of the arrow, and Hoder wouldn’t have handled it enough to transfer sweat.

[lightofthenine]

Confession | Closed RP

[freyroftheharvest]

lightofthenine:

freyroftheharvest:

“Of course,” Freyr agreed, smiling just a little at the comparison. He cleared his throat, growing serious once more. “So the arrow you shot was one of yours then. You know this for certain?”

Freyr shifted his weight on his heels, hands fidgeting once again in his lap as he waited. He wanted this to be over more than anything. Regardless of who had made the arrow, Hoder had shot it. It was by Hoder’s hand that Balder had died…

What difference did it make? How could anyone have known? It would only be mere coincidence, in the end. Manslaughter. Hardly worthy of a death sentence…

In his own mind, in any case.

“If it had been Kolf’s, I would have noticed in the nock,” Hoder shook his head. “He still makes them rough–they grip the bowstring well enough, but they don’t always release at the right time unless you’ve used it more than once. Get the splinters smooth with a few shots.”

His brow furrowed again, a twitch with a slight pang behind it his forehead. “That was my nock,” he recalled, “but the bodkin–the insert and the tie … I was not certain of my shot because it felt–”

His milk-white eyes scrunched closed as his head began to ache.

“It felt like what,” Freyr prompted. The old man was struggling somehow. He looked like he was in pain.

“Are you alright?”

[lightofthenine]

Confession | Closed RP

[freyroftheharvest]

lightofthenine:

freyroftheharvest:

“I see…” Freyr considered this. “So you would…know one of your arrows by feel alone, yes? Would you say so?” 

If he did the fletching by feel alone for complicated designs…

“I’ve little other choice,” Hoder said. “I cannot smell the shaft to see where it should be notched.”

“Of course,” Freyr agreed, smiling just a little at the comparison. He cleared his throat, growing serious once more. “So the arrow you shot was one of yours then. You know this for certain?”

Freyr shifted his weight on his heels, hands fidgeting once again in his lap as he waited. He wanted this to be over more than anything. Regardless of who had made the arrow, Hoder had shot it. It was by Hoder’s hand that Balder had died...

What difference did it make? How could anyone have known? It would only be mere coincidence, in the end. Manslaughter. Hardly worthy of a death sentence...

In his own mind, in any case.

[lightofthenine]

Confession | Closed RP

[freyroftheharvest]

lightofthenine:

freyroftheharvest:

His attention piqued at that. Hogun had said that the fletching was different – wrong, in fact. That it hadn’t matched the rest of Hoder’s arrows. 

“Does he usually fletch the arrows? Your arrows too?”

“He does the basic models,” Hoder answered, somewhat unsure as to what relevance that would have. “He is only an apprentice. The more complex designs I still do myself–what I can still do. It takes me longer now by feel, and I took him on to pick up the slack for the usual sales.”

“When the call came, I set out his arrows on the display racks.”

“I see...” Freyr considered this. “So you would...know one of your arrows by feel alone, yes? Would you say so?” 

If he did the fletching by feel alone for complicated designs...