meraki

ROHAN ERNOUF | 30 | HUMAN  THERE IS BRAVERY IN BEING SOFT

[rohanernouf-blog]

ofthyra:

Thyra felt her heart come to a stuttering stop before it leapt into a quick and unrhythmic beat. The blonde princess feared it would fly right through her chest. “Rohan?!” she gawked, not sure whether to be overjoyed or upset with the brown-haired man. Lowering her voice an octave to keep from drawing any unwanted attention. With her voice still caught in her throat, she tightly grasped Rohan’s hand in her own and yanked him in the small, dank alley between the shoemaker and baker’s– avoiding the mayhem of Beltane and the watchful eyes crowding the streets. Though she didn’t let go of her hold on his hand, her grip loosened a fraction.

“What are you doing here? How did you get here? Did you talk to anyone else?” Thyra’s questions came out so fast they were more of a jumble rather than coherent sentences. Her striking eyes looked over her shoulder and back into the crowd cautiously. Letting a soft sigh fall from her lips, Thyra turned back so her eyes met Rohan’s once more. “Of course I’m happy to see you– elated, even. But I’m frightened for you. If someone sees you…” her voice trailed off. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously, her glacial eyes darting from Rohan to the festival and back again.

“You’re like a dwarf compared to the Thursar and Jotunn!” she finally added. But just as soon as the words left her tongue a humored smile lilted across her lips, followed by a light giggle. The anxious expression drawn across her features began to melt away and was replaced by a luminous grin. “You’re like a mouse! How does it feel, love, to be so minuscule?” she inquired in a teasing tone. 

“I’m a mouse? You’re even shorter than I am here. And you claim to be a giant.” He gave her a chaste kiss on her temple, chuckling low in his throat. He let out a bark of laughter as she went into her snow-flurry of questions, those crystal eyes wide with worry. But there was something else, too. A look he knew too well. That look was excitement at this new little adventure he’d unlocked. “Thyra, Th- slow down, rabbit! You’re going to talk yourself hoarse.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I can’t be in danger with you around. I could pass as one of you. I’m simply...what, a Jotnar? Is that what you called it?n I’m...from out of town. A fur trader from the south, perhaps. With a preference for the Traveler’s Tongue. ” He grinned again. “I blend in just fine, not a single soul saw me, and my horse seems to find herself happy here. But I haven’t come for just a visit...” Rohan swallowed hard. No, he’d come for a reason. An important reason, one that could start things that simply didn’t need to be started. But he couldn’t deny the burning he had for this snowstorm of a girl. He’d be damned if he lost her, differences or not. 

He dropped his voice to a whisper, taking her hand in his and pulling her into an empty side street. Rohan could feel himself start to tremble as he he lowered his forehead to rest upon her’s. “My sister is getting married in a few months,” He began quietly. “And it made me think of how fleeting my life is compared to yours...and that I do not wish to miss a single moment with you.” It was rushed. This had to be rushed to her. She’d once said that years could pass in the blink of an eye for her kind. How many years would blink by before he could no longer hold her like this? “

I’d like...I’d like you to marry me, Thyra. If you’ll have me, that is.” 

[rohanernouf-blog]

breathingmyth:

The air was filled with the scent of flowers of freedom. Freedom from the wounds that the past had wrought upon both of their villages. Despite all the work being poured into the celebration, paired with laughing and anticipation for the goodness to come, Runa couldn’t help but frown, watching the men work to prepare for Beltane. Every moment that she and Sibba had spent blessing the branches or communing with the gods during this time only made Runa think of Inkeri and how this celebration was fueled by her decision. No, not a decision, a plight thrust upon a girl who was trapped under the thumb of a Jarl.

“Oh!” So she’d been caught staring again. “Enjoying the view. Of the work, not the men, unless you didn’t mean…yes, it’s always a pleasure to see the villages working together to create peace where there once was none.” Runa folded her hands in front of her, glancing to the side. She’d known of Inkeri’s brother and they’d talked a few times, but she’d heard stories of the man more than she’d seen the real thing. “How much more has to be done before nightfall?”

“Are you sure it’s not the men, little Brams?” Rohan gave her a smile, chuckling under his breath. He’d watched the girl grow from child to young woman, and despite how he felt about her sister, Rohan had never heard a bad thing about Runa. Well, unless it was about how she, his sister, and Clause would sometimes get into little spats about flowers and boys. She was only a tad taller than Inkeri, but a slight thing all the same. “Your friends say the same thing, and if you’re as alike them as I know you to be, I doubt the work is all you see.”

He’d always enjoyed teasing Inkeri’s friends, if only because his little sister was so protective of them. She’d come snipping at him later. “I think we’ll have the last of the fires done tonight, mostly because we haven’t been given much of a choice...the festival begins tomorrow. Should be an interesting several days, don’t you think?”

[aldissela]

Beltane was one of Aldis’s favorite festivals, second only to Ostara and Yule. The bright array of colors and flowers all around her, the singing and dancing and music, even the shouts and cheers and grunts of those participating in the competitions never failed to brighten her mood. It was enough to momentarily drive thoughts of her father from her mind. She took a sip from her horn, relishing the sweet taste of the mead, and watched as a warrior from Nysno and one from Alrekstad wrestled upon the grass.

This far north, there was still a touch of snow on the very tips of the mountains around them, but down here in the valley of The Pass, all was unusually green and bright. It must have been a blessing, she thought, watching the warriors grapple to more cheers. The gods approved of these villages coming together at last and making peace. There would even be some exciting news, she was told, of an impending marriage. Were she of the Aesir (and of course she would never presume to be such), she’d certainly drive away the harsh weather for such an occasion. She nudged the person beside her and gestured with her horn. “Five pieces of gold says the shield-maiden from Alrekstad wins.”

[rohanernouf-blog]

“I’ll take that bet, though I’ve learned not to bet against women, if my sister’s skills are any consolation.” Rohana lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow. It seemed he was always sweaty, always working. Now that they May Pole was upright and the last of the bon fires had been lit, he had time to relax. He’d have to bathe later on, or he’d miss the celebrations. He smiled at the young woman, raising a thick eyebrow as he beheld her. She looked kind enough, if not gentle. But that was another thing he had learned not to assume. Kind looking didn’t always mean gentle, but sometimes quite the opposite.

“I’ll bet you two silvers the Nysno warrior loses because he’s trying to use a blade. If he looses.” Rohan grinned, watching as Ulric tried to parry the maiden’s blows. The Ernouf family was cocky, and even when they all knew their strengths, it didn’t stop them from trying to master the things that weren’t their skill set.

[skylxrs-blog]

Magic- that’s exactly what Beltane felt like. The crowded streets, festive music, and ever-present smiles was refreshing to the princess in a way. Donning a more common set of clothes- a plain dress and cotton cloak to shield her face somewhat- Thyra had expertly snuck out of the palace and into streets of Utgard. Of course she had the usual help of Menja and the kitchen boy, but the routine had been done so many times it had become simply too easy to sneak out. She had hoped to experience Beltane not as the princess who would draw the attention of many, but as a commoner who would go unbothered.

Thyra neared a stand displaying an array of handmade jewelry. Her striking blue eyes danced over the various pieces laid along the wooden plank. Just as she had begun to turn around and meld back into the sea of people, she felt a tap against her shoulder. While Thyra had been tossed about more than once in the busy lane, the tap was much too direct to be yet another accident. Stiffing a bit, she turned around with caution and was sure to keep her face as shadowed as possible by her hood without seeming too odd. “Yes? Can I help you?” she quickly asked, glancing at the other.

[rohanernouf-blog]

Rohan…Rohan was known for listening to his heart instead of his head. It was what made him so different from many of the warriors of Nysno, and despite that they wouldn’t admit it, each of his siblings had the same tendencies. Do first, think later. He had failed to think when he first discovered his lady love. He has failed to think again when he kissed her the first time.

He failed to think a third time when he traveled farther past the invisible barrier than he ever had before.

But it was nearly Beltane. Beltane, his favorite holiday, and if he remembered correctly…Thyra’s birthday was not a day shy of it. She was so much older than him, yet she seemed so much younger sometimes. Totally alive and completely innocent— sunshine on a winter’s morning.

“You can help me not get caught,” Rohan said with gleaming eyes beneath his dark hood, shifting his stare only to marvel at the sheer height of the…things moving around him. He knew now why Thyra called herself short. Her people towered over her, and over him— and in his word, he was considered a giant. But not here. “I think I might be lost…”

[brandrvargramr]

A full morning of running around, lifting, building, hammering, organizing, and running around some more left Brandr feeling positively starved by early afternoon. The series of tents forming across the gap of The Pass was coming together quite nicely, and there was still a smile on most every face he saw. Towards the market that had sprung up almost of its own accord nearby, there were tables with some food laid out upon them. Cooks nearby were keeping it well stocked, and the aroma from the fire pits was tantalizing. Bran helped himself to a leg and a cup of water, then found a pleasant patch of grass under a tree to sit. He’d barely taken one bite before a shadow fell over him, and he looked up. “Oh, no. You want food, head over there and get your own.”

[rohanernouf-blog]

“Haven’t come to steal your food,” Rohan smiled down at the younger man, crossing his arms over his broad chest, his skin tunic practically soaked through with sweat from the labor of setting up the camp and hammering in his makeshift forge all day. Come the day of Beltane, he’d make a small fortune alone on his swords. Warriors did love breaking their blades when pretty girls cloaked in flowers were watching. “Came to ask if you’d like to lend a hand. We could use all the help we can get…but if you’re too focused on your meal, I’ll leave you to it.” Rohan had always tried to keep peace between his brothers, and now he’d tried to do so with his future brothers-in-law. “What do you say, Vargramr?”

[rohanernouf-blog]

“Alright, men! Lift!” Rohan’s voice was loud enough to carry through the village of canvas tents. Both Alrekstad and Nysno warriors alike grunted as another tree trunk —all of its branches had no doubt been blessed by Runa and Sibba or another seidr to be sold at the market— was hauled onto the pile. The unlit bonfires cast shadows in the bright morning sky, the careful structures dotting the border like the spine of a dragon. Once lit, they’d be marvelous— bright and brilliant, full of warmth and rebirth. Just what the Realm needed after a year of fear. Last years celebration had been practically mournful. Women and children still wept for the warriors lost in battle, and the entire village was still liking their wounds. There had been a single bonfire that night, barley enough to flood the village with its glow. But this year…Gods, this year was going to be different. It had to be.

There was finally peace between Midgard’s most vengeful enemies…and his tiny sister was the cause. Who would have though the wild girl would one day agree to be tamed? Rohan shouted again, his bare arms straining as his skin practically baked in the sun. It was strange— he was a lover of winter, yet he felt whole in the sunshine. Then again, she was sunshine…she was light. But his sunshine would have to wait, and the work of Beltane was the distraction he needed. With a final huff, he and his crew cheered as the last log was put in place…the last log of that bonfire, anyways. There was still work to be done. A festival to create.

 "Alright, men.“ Rohan huffed again, chucking. “Take your break, down some ale! We’re back to it in an hours time.” The second born turned, blinking as he saw the person standing several feet away. “Oh— I didn’t see you there. Enjoying the view? Quite a lot of work, but I know damn well it’s worth it.”

[rohanernouf-blog]

nykrvargramr:

As the evening sun hung low in the sky, Nykr made his way along a very familiar path, the light just bright enough to show the way. He knew the forge would not be open for customers this late in the day, and as Nykr had no other responsibilities to attend to, he had decided that the best way to spend this evening was in the company of his very good friend, Kori. He did not yet have an activity in mind for them to do, but if he knew Kori at all, then he knew they would already have the perfect idea.

As he pushed aside the bear pelt in front of the forge’s door, he did not even attempt to mask his presence by being quiet. There would be no point. He knew Kori would not mind his visit. Except, Kori was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a man he did not immediately recognize was standing near the forge, hammering a sword, and looking like he’s been doing so for some time now.

The voice caught Nykr off guard, and his first reaction was to reply with, “I know how dangerous night can be. Your advice is given in vain.” Then realized he probably shouldn’t be so mean to the man. He was being rather kind for someone who’s workplace had just been intruded upon with no warning. “I did not realize it was you who was working the forge tonight. I expected to see Kori here. Have you seen them recently?”

It took Rohan a moment more to drag his eyes away from the intricate blade he was forming between rough hands. His eyes flickered back to the stranger, before he let lose a snort of laughter. Nykr Vargramr was certainly the most intrestng out of the Alrekstad boys, if you asked him. Rohan had barley spoken to his future-brother-in-law, not unless Keri was present. “You know Kori,” He said with a laugh, running his smudged hands over his face as he attempted to work some alertness back into his features. Gods be damned, he was so tired lately. He knew who to blame, too. 

“The fires wouldn’t start up back home, with all the snow melting- so think of me as a stowaway,” The older man quipped, ignoring Nykr’s initial snap. He was young. Rohan had once been like that. “They tend to run off a lot, eh? Haven’t seen them for most of the day...not several, actually. They left a note that I could have my way with their tools until they return.” He gave another grin. “Something I can do until they return?”

[rohanernouf-blog]

linhilda-vapni:

Linhilda had been sick with worry because she had not seeing her other half for most of the day. The night had fallen and Kori had not shown her face, not even for lunch, and as her older sister, the alehouse mistress was worried and decided to go to the only place she had already looked, but maybe she missed something the first time, so, wrapped in a fur cloak, she opened the door of her sibling’s work place, hoping to find Kori there.

There was noise inside, and Linhilda didn’t doubt once before opening the door to see that her sibling was not there, but the blacksmith, her companion, Rohan. She knew him of course, most of the time she would bring him some ale or food when he and Kori were working. 

“It is late, but I can take care of myself just fine, Rohan”, Linhilda pulled back her hood so he could see her face. “Maybe you can help me by telling me if you have seen my darling Kori”

"Kori?" Rohan asked with a quip of a thick eyebrow. He peered at her through tired eyes as her features became clear in the dim light of the forge. It seems as if they'd gone missing again— even Rohan hadn't seen the younger Vapni sibling in several days. They both seemed to have almost too much work, what with the threat at The Pass.

Almost— they could both agree that work was never really work, not when steel was singing under iron hammers.

"I haven't seen them, Lin." He set the cooling blade down with a quiet clang, pushing the back of his hand across his forehead as he let loose a breath. What time was it, if Linhilda was searching for Kori? How long had he been there? "Where have you looked? Can’t have gone too far, not with the amount we’ve got to do to get The Pass secured. Probably off drinking, or got caught up with another smith,” Rohan shot the Vapni girl a grin, shrugging his shoulders. “How we met, after all.”

[skylxrs-blog]

Thyra had loved so much in her many years. She loved the brilliant yellow petals of the sunflowers she so rarely got to see. She loved the magnificently large, knowing eyes of the snow hued owls that loomed in the trees. She loved the smell of burning wood on a crackling fire. Still, she loved Rohan most of all. The starry-eyed princess could not help it, she loved him with such a passionately roaring fire it could melt every mile of snow in Jotunheim– which made the lying so much harder. Granted, their secret trysts were unbeknownst to others therefore not entirely making her a liar yet she felt like one nonetheless. Though, if lying were the worst thing she had to do in order to feel Rohan’s warm skin against that of her cold, then she would without a second thought.

The wind whipped her hair and whistled in her ears as her horse sped forward. Her heart drummed along to the rhythmic beats of the steed’s hooves clipping against the ground; as she neared the place she and Rohan had met so many times before, her heartbeat sped and butterflies began to dance in her stomach. Feet from the barrier, she slid from her purely white horse with grace and ease before her feet sunk into the glittering snow with a satisfying crunch. Thyra walked forward with an odd elegance as light flurries of snow spun from the sky to the ground. The princess’s thin fingers reached out in front of her carefully, immediately pressing against the invisible barrier. The feeling was quite unsettling; she could feel it like a wall of stone yet nothing was there. 

As she had done so many times before, Thyra dragged her fingers across the hard nothingness until she found it. Her hand fell through, no longer blocked by the unseeable boundary. The blonde stepped forward with a slow caution, her eyes darting from side to side with innate wariness. “Rohan?” she called out, her voice soft and light like falling flakes of crystalline snow. Thyra moved farther from the barrier, her ice-like eyes searching for the one that warmed her soul. “Rohan, are you there?” she repeated again, louder.

( @rohanernouf )

[rohanernouf-blog]

Rohan had found his way through the barrier an hour earlier than Thyra— it couldn't he helped, not when they seemed as if they were always apart. There were times when even his smithing couldn't distract him from those big, icy eyes and her ever-present smile. Thyra was a gift. A mysterious, intriguing gift that was both other worldly and home all at the same time.

Rohan watched with amusement as Thyra failed to notice his presence on her side of the wall— watched as dainty hands searched for the opening. Tugging his furs closer around him, he reached behind him to yank up his hood to protect himself against the snow that seemed to howl at his back. With careful and quiet steps, he followed after her, waiting until he saw the hesitation in her eyes before he grabbed her waist. With her back to his chest, he lifted her gently, spinning her around as he planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"I'm always here," He grinned at her as he placed her on her feet. "Really, its quiet odd. It's as if this strange force always makes me end up in this spot. I think it's a girl— you might know her. Lanky, blonde, stubborn as it gets..."

Thyra Thyra Thyra— who was sunlight and morning and dew. Breezes and spring, despite the cold climate she told stories of. "She's taken to stealing me away." Not that that's a bad thing, he thought as another grin pulled across his lips, cupping her cheek in a calloused hand. "Any idea what her name might be?"

[honeymoonavenue]

moonlight // ariana grande

[rohanernouf-blog]

Sweat dribbled down his nose, but Rohan hardly noticed as his hammer made a sharp clang against the glowing orange of the blade he was crafting. A difficult order, but not impossible— more for style than use, but sharp enough to kill. That had been the instructions, so that is what he created. A droplet of sweat hissed against the blade, causing the blacksmith to blink out of his daze.  

His crystal eyes swept upwards as the bear skin pelt covering his open door slide aside, letting light into the other wise dark forge— the only light besides the fires that roared behind him. He sighed, wiping the moisture from his brow, looking back down at his careful work. He didn't look at the stranger as he thrust the blade into the bucket at his feat, his face clouded by steam as it boiled the water.

 "Friend, you do realize how late it is? Treaty or not, you should mind yourself out there. Night is dangerous." Dangerous, if alone. “I am closed, but I’m happy to help, should you need it. What can I do for you?”

[darkestnighthour]

Aaron Taylor-Johnson in New York Magazine