Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings)
Pairing: Sigurd Snake in the Eye/Reader
Warnings: N/A
Rating: G
Length: Drabble
Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.
A/N: @whenimaunicorn gave me the words Afterglow and Ariose, obviously I went with Ariose. ariose (adj.): characterized by melody; songlike Spring and Sigurd to me, are songlike.
The sun setting over Kattegat was nothing short of spectacular this evening, the birds were chirping their happiest songs while the blooms on the trees began to poke out. The cold had lasted far too long and it was heartwarming to see the signs of new life all around you.
Sitting on the small stoop of your cottage, you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and sigh in content. By now you should be headed for the great hall, joining the others in a feast to honour the gods and those who will be sailing out on the raids soon.
Instead you sit on the creaky wood, built by your own hands to satisfy your need to be useful. A few of the town's children rush by, yelling and whooping as their wooden swords clash against one another. They are feeling the warm weather, as well.
"Careful there, you don't want to hurt anybody." The familiar voice warns the children, gaining your attention. Looking up from your seat, you see the third son of Queen Aslaug striding toward you.
Dressed to impress and clean from the days spent training, with his brothers. His dark blue and green tunic new for the feast, it looks better than you could have imagined. You had worked on the garment for a long time, as a gift for the prince.
"Sigurd." You greet him, patting the space beside you.
"Gods woman, you are taking long enough. Where have you been? I've been pacing the hall waiting." Sigurd huffs in a playful manner, accepting your offer to sit.
The stoop is muddy but he doesn't mind. Sitting beside you, Sigurd nudges you with his shoulder and leans in like he has a great secret to tell.
"I have a new song. You must come, allow me to play for you." He is eager in his words.
"You and your songs, will you ever stop?" You tease, flicking his nose with the tip of your finger. Sigurd is talented and bold, not in the same way as his brothers, but that is what makes him special.
Any man can try to impress a woman with an axe, but a man who impresses her with his heart is far more valuable. Bjorn is strong, Ubbe firm, Hvitserk impulsive, and Ivar fierce but Sigurd...he is sweet and that has drawn you to him.
Sigurd wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, fair red braids following the motion. "The Gods themselves could not stop me, from singing of your beauty, my love."
A real poet he is.
"You say that to all the ladies." You continue to torment the young prince. Knowing that Sigurd has had his way with one or two other women, although he claims he could never love another in the way he loves you.
"I do not!" Sigurd protested with a huff, he hates it when you tease him like this. "I shall prove it to you, but you must come to the feast first."
"And if I am not in the mood? What if I want to stay here? The two of us?"
"You are impossible." Sigurd boldly leans in to kiss your cheek.
Returning the chaste kiss, the smile on your face is so bright it is beginning to hurt your cheeks. "You tell me it is why you love me."
"I love many things about you, my love." Sigurd confesses. "It is in every song I sing about the fair maiden who has taken my heart."
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Wikipedia word of the day is ariose : (music) Melodic and song-like. For some Christian churches, today is the feast day of Saint Cecilia, the patron saint of musicians.
