young & dumb

i am water - soft enough to offer life, but tough enough to drown it away.

[enjoy-the-life-baby]

[ofbjor-blog]

jeongbobo:

     Jeong smiled, legs sliding beside his as she took a place next to the fire. She wasn’t one to keep still for long. Years of constantly having to be on the move, whether for her job, or for survival, had been ingrained into her system. But it seemed Bjor wasn’t eager to jump off and run into whatever Jeong had come up with–which, in truth, was nothing. She may have just wanted to see him. 

     Of course, she would have came up with something as she went along. Probably.

     Nodding, eyebrows raised, she turned her face to him, “Call it an educated guess, but I have the certain feeling you do not wish to move from this spot you’ve rooted yourself in. Surrounded by people who choose to ignore our existence,” Jeong stated the last part rather loudly, causing a stir of awkward discomfort among the southerners that went about their own business. 

     Grinning, she turned back to Bjor, “You obviously need decent company. So, tell me,” She kicked a stick into the fire before folding her legs, “What was it like, growing up in Mykr? I’ve heard you have the fattest hunt in the north. And the ladies are quite pleasing to look at.”

       It had all happened rather quickly. One moment, Bjor had been calling himself a mouse as a greeting ( what was he thinking? ) to a woman he’d accidentally happened upon, and the next, he was finding any excuse to find her, talk to her, learn about her... He had even skipped a few adviser meetings in pursuit of her company --- something he most certainly didn’t regret.

       And now here Jeong was, sliding next to him and making his heart beat all the faster, making his words jumble in his head, making his hands sweaty. Beyond all of that, though, she made him happy, and even if he couldn’t explain why to his advisers, Bjor knew he’d do whatever it took to spend more time with her.

         Laughing with no shame when she obviously spoke to the people around them, Bjor nodded. “It’s... it’s warm by the fire,” he said, rather obviously. “And it reminds me of the fire pit in my father’s hall.”

         Raising his gaze to meet hers, the jarl smiled softly as Jeong spoke. But at her question, it disappeared. “Oh, well... yes! Yes, our moose are abundant and our foxes are easy to catch.” He paused, unsure of how to continue. “And, well, I suppose some would say that the women in Mykr are beautiful, of course.” His throat went completely dry, but he swallowed anyway, forcing his next words out before he lost his nerve. “But I would say those in Laewyth are more so beautiful.”

[ofbjor-blog]

jarlvilkas:

By now the Jarl had taken to just walking through the festival, his people seemed to be enjoying themselves, some of them. Others were on edge in this place, confused by the reasoning and customs they were seeing. But they deserved to enjoy themselves, even if it was done by ignoring most of the southerners and sitting together and talking. Vilkas couldn’t blame them, he found much more peace in speaking with his own people. 

Turning at the sound of Bjor’s voice he looked out at the mass of people again. “I do not think they require any god. I have heard some of the northerners pray to Heimdall to watch over them. But as for the southerners… I think they simply see a reason to show off their ways and they take it.”

It was nearly impossible to hear anything over the roaring, crackling fire and the many voices that filled the air around it. But Bjor heard a familiar voice speak, even over the clinking of cups and quips of laughter, and his shoulders relaxed. To be in the company of a northerner was comforting, but a jarl... It was refreshing to have someone who understood what Bjor was going through, if only to an extent.

The young jarl nodded, though his brows furrowed together in confusion. “You speak as though you are not northern,” he said, curiously. “Or do you simply find yourself in the middle, as I do? There are aspects of both cultures that are both fascinating and similar, and it’s difficult to see the reason for tension.”

[ofbjor-blog]

roscnburg:

    “can’t people celebrate simply just for the sake of it?” the princesses’ query was innocent, curious, no inner judgement behind it. the festival was a time of happiness and a good distraction from everything currently going on. the choice of the laewyth rulers to have it was something she agreed with. tensions were high and had been likely just to continue rising, all sides finding it hard to set aside prejudices so they could work towards their common goal. it was the common goal that she found important. 

“not having a reason doesn’t make it any less of a real celebration.” ingrid took the seat next to the jarl with all the ease of a young lady long been forced to attend dance lessons. her smile was as easy as her manner, it was easy to be happy when in a crowd of happy people.  “but tell me, how are you finding yourself here in the south so far?”

     “yes, i suppose,” bjor said slowly, his tone apprehensive. “it just seems a little odd to me. where i’m from... well, in the north, we celebrate very often. but we always have a meaning behind each day, each food, each sacrifice... it brings meaning to our lives.” there is more than a hint of sadness in the jarl’s tone, the sound of a young man who missed his home dearly.

bjor let a small smile tug at his features, though it wasn’t close to being fully sincere. he agreed with her, in some ways; he supposed she must have a point, as she was a royal of the south, and undoubtedly knew more about their ways than bjor did. taking a deep breath, he chose his next words carefully, just as his advisers had taught him. “there are... places, here, that remind me of home. in the woods, and sometimes in the people’s hall. it is nice to see that perhaps we are not so different.”

[ofbjor-blog]

jeongbobo:

     Not that Jeong was unfamiliar to the chase, but, when she was seeking a jarl, it was usually for reasons of diplomacy. Her position held a certain duty, at the right hand of her jarl. She was always in attendance for political meetings–it wasn’t a surprise that Eirik found her charms to be useful. But this? It was entirely different. 

     Boots padding along, Jeong looked over shoulders, around passerby, searching high and low for Bjor. She’d spent an entire month in Laewyth, and still had little to no idea where she was going. Perhaps her position was too far skyward for someone of her navigation skills. 

     Finally, she happened upon a fire and, sitting beside it, was a very particular blonde. Grinning, she crept behind him, prepping herself for what was sure to be a considerable jolt.

     Crouching to the ground, she leaned in close, “Do you want to do something fun?”

The fire was warm, and the people celebrating around him were uninterested in starting any sort of conversation — a fact Bjor was glad of,  but his advisors wouldn’t be. They constantly reminded him to speak with the southerners, even if they called him a heathen ( to his face! ) and insulted his people. It was a lot to ask, but Bjor knew they were much smarter than him; and so he listened, and spoke to the people of Laewyth whenever possible. But tonight… no, tonight he wanted a moment of introspection, and perhaps a chance to regain his thoughts.

Blood pumping steadily through his veins, Bjor was actually relaxed. But then, suddenly, a familiar voice whispered in his ear, and he promptly — and without a trace of grace — spilled his ale.

“Gods above and below!” He exclaimed, his shock short lived as a smile quickly replace his surprises expression. “Jeong,” he greeted, his tone nothing less than ecstatic. The joy that filled him at the sight of her, the sound of her… He took a deep breath, and his brows furrowed. “Fun?” His voice was low, confused. Did she mean…? No, certainly not. Not with him, when she could have anyone.

“Was spilling my drink not enough?” Bjor jested, giving Jeong another bright smile to accompany his attempt at a joke. In all truth, however, the jest was a poor attempt to dodge the question.

[ofbjor-blog]

the crowds were impressive. if bjor had thought the town center of laewyth was busy before the festival, now it was downright teeming with hot, sweaty, drunk bodies. it reminded bjor of home, actually; if, of course, the people walking didn’t look to him with such contempt.

the jarl sat at the fire pit ( one of many that had been set up throughout the kingdom, serving as local meeting spots for festival goers to eat and drink outdoors ), watching the happenings around him intently, eager to learn more of the people who were celebrating. “ what could they be celebrating, without a reason or sacrifice to make it real ?” he was speaking mostly to himself, but anyone could have heard.

[lnvitto]

RIDE & STRIKE

location: jousting field ( tournament )  time: a few hours before noontime availability: open to all

Banners of all colours flew across the field, each marking and indicating the origins of the contenders. One that she recognized hailed from the noble House Gysborne, one other from House Rosenburg, the rest were a mix of familiar and unfamiliar families. Some even billowed over her own kins’ heads but it was likely they didn’t have any idea what they had gotten themselves into. 

Ride hard and fast then strike your opponent with a blunted lance, they were told. Eyjalin could not help but laugh aloud—that this jousting event had warranted more than her men’s scoffing. “Typically I wouldn’t bet against my own but I’ll be damned if I lost my coin.”

[ofbjor-blog]

The idea of such a large and long-lasting festival was anything but foreign to Bjor. Mykr would hold such festivals many times a year, when the seasons changed or the waters surrounding the land became rougher, and the need of sacrifice to appease the gods of the sea was needed.

But this... jousting. The young jarl had seen many violent pastimes, but this seemed --- frivolous. It seemed like more of a show of familial pride than fighting, and Bjor was only impressed by the southerner’s need to show such a thing. Bjor laughed easily among one of his own, and recognized the woman next to him, if only slightly. “It seems a show of colorful cloth more than strength and force, if you ask me.”

[ofmoodys-blog]

he sits by the waterside, legs crossed atop one another, eyes closed, simply breathing. the sound of the water is his sense of normalcy, his anchor to the world but also his prompt to delve further than the borders of reality. he breathes the salt of the air in, feels it in his air. “to know anything, he speaks aloud, wondering if the intruder to his space is a friend or a foe, “then you must first know yourself. perhaps not completely - no, that is impossible. but you must find within you what it is you seek. why you wish to learn. elsewise, you will never have knowledge, only wasted facts.”

[ofbjor-blog]

bjor had only meant to take a swim, as was his usual tendency when the heat was so overbearing. with mykr surrounded by water, it had never been anything less than a habit for the young jarl; but what he heard at the waterfront had... not been what he expecting. he eyed the young man with nothing more than apprehension, but sat next to him out of curiosity. “those are wise words for someone of our age,” he said, guessing they weren’t too far apart in years. “where are you from?”

[rhonwxn]

@ofbjor

//put me down it’s honestly too much for my heart to take

[christoffholstein-blog]

«✧ “I’m sweltering,” the guard complained with a heavy sigh.  “Who decided it was a good idea to stoke the fire? Savages will melt in their furs. Or is this ridiculous heat all a ruse to cease the pillaging in this fair city?” 

[ofbjor-blog]

At first, Bjor smiled at the man’s words. While the young jarl was used to warm weather, he was inclined to agree --- and he almost did, but the other’s next words wiped the smile from Bjor’s face. “Savages?” He asked, his northern, Myrkr accent all too recognizable. “I don’t understand. Do you truly believe we are so horrible?”

[saanvalr]

   “Wait–I insist, don’t leave,” Saanvi rose, just as soon as she heard the door click behind her. Exploring Laewyth hadn’t been something she had the time for as of yet, in her stay here. She was far too busy attending to matters of state, making sure arrangements were locked in stone, food provided, shelter sought. It was her way of contributing to the cause, taking care of more internal issues. As such, she wouldn’t dare turn down someone at her door.

   Besides, some company would be wonderful–discussing politics or otherwise. She beckoned to them, “Please, sit. Was there something you needed?”

[ofbjor-blog]

Bjor’s advisers had long since told him to speak with the kings, queens, and jarls that were all in Laewyth. It was a rare opportunity; all the lands’ leaders in one place, bound together by a common cause. But the young jarl had never been very good at starting conversations, especially with others of such high titles, and definitely not about such sensitive matters. But he’d heard only good things about svalr’s jarl’s wife, and decided to speak to her out of a burst of confidence.

but after entering the room she was said to be in, bjor changed his mind. surely, she had better things to do... but saanvi’s voice stopped him from leaving. “thank you,” he said simply, his tone quiet. moving to sit where he was beckoned, he cleared his throat quietly. “i’m jarl bjor of mykr. it’s an honor to meet you.”

[ofbjor-blog]

it wasn’t an easy task. but what easy task was worth doing? bjor’s father had always told him that if something is too easy, don’t do it --- choose instead the path that is hard to take, and you will sleep better knowing you challenged yourself. still, asking around the entire city center for one particularly beautiful northern warrior was proving to almost be too difficult. 

the young jarl had left the stables that day with a light heart and spinning head. he’d met quite possibly the most beautiful, charming, and stubborn woman he’d ever seen, and hadn’t even asked to see her again. what an idiot, he’d told himself, every moment since leaving. but now, with the sun having risen not two hours before, bjor was determined to find jeong again.

he’d checked the stables, and the people’s hall, and the royal blacksmith. eveyrone he asked claimed they hadn’t seen anyone by his description, though the fear in their eyes told him they probably thought he’d kill them ( nearly all northerners were barbarians in the eyes of southerners, after all ). but, finally, he asked a fellow northerner if they’d seen her, and to his surprise, they had. apparently they were a warrior, too, and knew her from liflátinn. rushing to the training grounds after being pointed in the right direction, bjor’s heart was racing nearly out of his chest.

he came to a halt when he entered the training ground, only a few feet from jeong. his eyes widened, and he almost had the urge to turn around and leave. but seeing her... gods, how was she so beautiful? he stood there, partly frozen, before speaking up.

“jeong!” he greeted, probably much too loudly to be casual. he took a fast, deep breath. “didn’t think i’d see you here.” immediately, he closed his eyes in regret of his words; she’s a warrior, you idiot. of course she’s training. ( @jeongbobo )

[ofbjor-blog]

it was late in the day, and the sun was setting behind the people’s hall. but inside, the fires and torches were alight with flame, and dozens of people were inside eating the feast laid out by the royal family’s cooks ( which was done in an attempt to bring the two lands together ). but even as bjor entered the hall, he could feel southern eyes on him, scrutinizing and serious. ignoring them, the yougn jarl quickly found his way to babette, relieved to see a familiar and friendly face.

sitting down next to her and preparing a plate, he mumbled through his first mouthful. “even the way we eat is different than theirs. how will we ever find any common ground?” sighing, he swallowed and looked at babette. “do you... like it here?” ( @babettevinter )

[ofbjor-blog]

@ingervarsson

the small clearing in the small forest next to laewyth’s palace was small, but it offered the chance of respite for the young jarl. having been rather noticeably overwhelmed in the midst of market day, bjor had been tipped off about the hideout by a kind vender who recognized his struggle. he went there immediately, spending only a few moments finding it. upon entering it, however, bjor noticed a woman and nearly turned back --- but upon noticing who it was, bjor nearly gasped. “ lady inger ! ” he exclaimed, suddenly unsure of how to address her. “ i apologize, ” he said, lowering his gaze and head. “ i did not mean to intrude. ”

[ofbjor-blog]

like this for a start from bjor to get the ball rolling on some connections !!

[themotivationjournals]

Every moment is a poem if you hold it right.

Lauren Zuniga (via themotivationjournals)

[barvald-deactivated20180409]

“And just who was it that taught you to hold a blade like that?” He raises his voice over the din of steel ringing against steel, speaking to no one in particular  — for all he’s seeing from the warriors on the training ground, both Northmen and Southerners, his words could apply to any one of a great many of them. “Won’t do you any good to swing it around like that, lest you’re eager to see your skull split in two. You’ve got a shield there — block with it.”

[ofbjor-blog]

The act of swordplay had always been a top priority of any jarl. Since Bjor was a boy, he’d been trained by the best --- but that doesn’t mean he was the best. And so, as he was swinging at a straw dummy in the makeshift training grounds, the words of criticism caused Bjor’s head to swivel around, thinking they were aimed at him. A smile broke acorss the young jarl’s face when he saw Bärwald. “Aye! You’d all do best to listen to the old man. He’s seen his fair share of fighting!” Bjor jested loudly, slapping a hand on the older warrior’s back. Quieting his voice, he laughed. “’Tis good to see you, Bärwald.”