Hiya! This page was created due to the increasing inquiries about my Viking!Dabi AU.
Firstly, I'm genuinely surprised and grateful for the overwhelmingly positive feedback on Kvitravn story. Many of you have expressed interest in one-shots within this particular AU, and in response, I've decided to dedicate an entire page to Viking-themed fics & one-shots. I hope you enjoy them!
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This page exclusively features stories crafted for the MHA Viking AU
KVITRAVN (viking!Dabi) - act I • act II • act III • act IV • act V • act VI • act VII • act VIII
How to wield an axe - Dabi x male Reader
A well-placed shield - Dabi x shieldmaiden!Reader
Earl's favourite - earl!Hawks x thrall!Reader
The naughty one - Bakugo x fem!Reader - NSFW
viking!Shoto & viking!Dabi - general headcanons
viking!Shoto & viking!Dabi - general headcanons - NSFW
Summary: the Earl sought counsel from the seer, seeking guidance after Shoto's proposition to send him and Touya on a mission to the north. Concerned about the rumors surrounding the mission, you resolved to extract information directly from Shoto
Word count: circa 6.5k
A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥
MASTERLIST KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU
PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER
ACT III - SEEKING ANSWERS
The cold winds of late autumn swept through the rugged hills as earl Endeavor rode toward the dwelling of the renowned seer, Mirko. His thoughts were consumed by the intriguing proposition his youngest son, Shoto, had presented regarding a land rich in goods. The idea of sending his eldest son, Touya, to oversee this promising territory crossed the earl's mind, a strategic move that could secure his settlement's prosperity.
Upon reaching Mirko's abode, the atmosphere seemed to change. The air grew thick with an otherworldly aura, and the eerie silence made the settlement's seer even more intimidating. Mirko was a young woman with a fearsome reputation, her presence alone sending shivers down the spines of those who sought her guidance. Mirko was not beautiful in the conventional sense; her appearance held an unsettling allure. Long, wild locks framed her face, and her eyes, intense and piercing, seemed to hold secrets of both past and future. Tribal markings adorned her skin, marking her as a conduit to the spiritual realm.
Earl Endeavor, a man hardened by battles and strategic decisions, felt a twinge of uncertainty as he approached the seer.
Mirko's dwelling, draped in dark fabrics and adorned with symbols, exuded an aura of mysticism. She welcomed him with a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. "My lord," she spoke, her voice a haunting melody, "what brings you to seek the guidance of the unseen?"
Endeavor hesitated momentarily before speaking. "I come seeking counsel, Mirko. My youngest son has spoken of a land rich in goods. I contemplate sending my eldest, Dabi, to oversee it. What do you foresee in the tapestry of fate?"
Mirko, seated in the midst of her mystical domain, gestured for Endeavor to sit.
Endeavor unfolded his plan, explaining the potential prosperity and influence this land could bring. "I intend to send Dabi to ensure our dominance over this territory. What do your visions reveal?"
The air thickened with an unspoken power, and her haunting hums echoed through the room. The earl observed, a sense of unease settling over him as he witnessed the seer's transformation.
Her eyes closed, Mirko began to sway rhythmically, her body guided by an unseen force. The haunting melody of her hums intensified, creating an otherworldly atmosphere within the sacred space.
Endeavor found himself being on the precipice of something beyond his understanding.
Her voice carried a spectral melody, and the room seemed to pulse with an unseen heartbeat. Mirko's eyes, still closed, painted visions of impending doom with her words.
"In darkness veiled, the land awaits,
Echoes of sorrow, at destiny's gates.
A wolf, fierce, prowls in the night,
A dance with death, a sinister delight."
The seer's hands moved gracefully through the air, as if conducting an unseen symphony of fate. Her words painted vivid images of a land consumed by shadows and the imminent clash between two primal forces.
"An eagle, majestic and bold,
Descends from heights, its destiny foretold.
A battle fierce, 'neath the moonlit gleam,
In shadows cast, where spirits teem."
The eagle and wolf, symbols of opposing forces, danced in the tapestry of Mirko's vision. The room echoed with the weight of her words, each rhyme a forewarning etched in the annals of fate.
"Blood on feathers, and darkness entwined,
A struggle unfolds, destinies aligned.
In the land cursed, where choices are made,
The echo of battle, in shadows will fade."
"What does it mean?!" The earl growled loudly. "Tell me, now!"
As Mirko's body moved, a voice emerged from her lips, yet it seemed detached, as if another entity spoke through her. The words, laden with an eerie resonance, foretold a grim fate awaiting those who ventured into the land Shoto had spoken of. "The path you tread is bathed in blood, earl Endeavor. Death dances upon the horizon, and shadows darker than the night itself await those who dare to grasp the threads of destiny."
Endeavor felt a chill coursing through him. Mirko's words seemed like a macabre prophecy, a dire warning wrapped in a melody that resonated with the spirits of the unseen.
"Blood will stain the soil, and death will be the echo that reverberates through the ages. The spirits speak of a land cursed by the choices of the living," Mirko continued, her voice carrying the weight of the ethereal.
Endeavor, despite his stoic exterior, couldn't shake the disquiet settling in his chest. Mirko, in her trance, spoke as if guided by forces beyond mortal comprehension. The grim portrait she painted clashed with the earl's visions of conquest and prosperity.
As Mirko's humming reached a haunting crescendo, she opened her eyes, the once vacant gaze now piercing through the fabric of fate. The trance lifted, leaving the seer standing before Endeavor, a conduit between the living and the unseen.
"The spirits have spoken, my lord. The path ahead is shrouded in darkness, and the choices you make will echo through the very essence of time," Mirko uttered, her words lingering in the air like an unspoken decree from the spirits themselves.
Endeavor leaned forward, his expression stern. "Speak plainly, Mirko."
Mirko's voice carried a weight beyond the present. "The flames may consume not only the intended but all who stand too close. Choices shape destinies," the woman replied mysteriously.
Endeavor emerged from Mirko's dimly lit hut, the weight of her prophecy hanging in the air like a shroud of uncertainty. The pale light of the moon bathed the settlement nearby in an eerie glow as the earl took a moment to collect his thoughts.
Silence enveloped him, broken only by the distant sounds of the night. Endeavor closed his eyes, reflecting on the words Mirko had spoken. Despite the foreboding visions, a resolute determination burned within him. He knew the risks, but the allure of wealth and power beckoned him forward.
Turning to Mirko, he offered a nod of gratitude. "Thank you for your insights, Mirko. May the spirits guide us through the shadows." As a token of appreciation, Endeavor gently took Mirko's palm in his hands and pressed a grateful kiss upon it.
The seer's eyes, still veiled in the mystery of her visions, met his with a knowing gaze.
Mounting his horse, Endeavor set forth, determined to confront the future that awaited him.
The night held its breath as Endeavor rode back to the settlement, a lone figure against the canvas of the darkened landscape. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but the ember of ambition burned brightly within him, lighting the path toward the destiny he sought.
Dabi sat in the dimly lit corner of the tavern, his presence almost like a shadow against the flickering candlelight. The rhythmic sound of a whetstone against his sword filled the air, a comforting repetition that matched the beat of his troubled thoughts.
The raucous atmosphere of the tavern buzzed around him, but the glances thrown his way were not ones of admiration or desire. The courtesans, usually attentive to potential patrons, seemed to cast him disgusted looks. Even though he was the heir to the earldom, the one who would sit on the throne after his father's eventual passing, they all were disgusted by him. His status brought him no favors in this realm of longing and fleeting connections.
Dabi's eyes occasionally flickered across the room, catching those disdainful glares. He couldn't deny the sharp pang in his chest — a mix of frustration and a longing for a connection he had been denied for so long. He had grown accustomed to rejection, so much so that he had stopped actively seeking companionship. Still, the yearning for the warmth and softness of a woman's touch lingered, a desire he had learned to bury deep within.
As he took a swig of ale, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the bitterness that had settled in his heart. Dabi continued to polish his sword, the repetitive motion a way to distract himself from the disapproving looks that haunted him. In the midst of the crowded tavern, he remained a solitary figure, surrounded by people but untouched by the warmth of human connection.
The loud thud echoed through the quiet walls of the Great Hall, jolting you awake from your shallow slumber. Concern etched across your face as you rushed out of the room you shared with Hilda, following the source of the commotion. The dimly lit corridor led you to Dabi's chamber, where you found him struggling to regain his balance, a victim of the ale's intoxicating effects.
"Easy there," you said, your voice soft but laced with genuine concern. "Need a hand?"
Dabi looked up at you, his turquoise eyes momentarily clouded with confusion before recognition set in. He grunted in agreement, accepting your offered help. Together, you steadied him, and he leaned against the wall for support. The flickering light from the fireplace cast a warm glow on both of you, creating an unexpected intimacy in that late-night encounter.
"Thanks," he mumbled, his usual aloofness momentarily giving way to a hint of vulnerability. The moment was fleeting, but it lingered in the air as you helped him back into his chamber.
You assisted Touya onto his bed. The warmth of the hearth seemed to soften the edges of the usually stern and enigmatic man. However, as you turned to leave, his hand shot out, gently grasping your wrist. When you met his eyes, you were met with a vulnerability that seemed to pierce through his usual façade.
"Stay," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.
You hesitated. The rules that governed your roles in this Viking settlement were clear, and getting too close to someone of higher standing could invite trouble. Yet, the sadness in his eyes and the unspoken plea tugged at your empathy.
"I… I shouldn't," you started, but he tightened his grip ever so slightly.
"Please," he whispered, his tone a mixture of loneliness and longing.
In that moment, you found it difficult to resist. Against your better judgment, you stayed, settling on a bed beside him. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
Touya's eyes never left yours.
The room was shrouded in shadows, and the warmth of the fire seemed to cocoon you and Touya in a fragile bubble of shared vulnerability.
With a hesitant yet genuine smile, Touya broke the silence. "Tell me about your homeland," he requested, his eyes showing a glimmer of curiosity.
His request hung in the air like a delicate thread, and you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh before responding. "You want to hear about the place you tore me away from? Like a flower ripped out of the life-giving soil?" Your words held a weight, a mix of resentment and sorrow.
Touya met your gaze, his expression carrying the burden of understanding the pain he had caused. "Yes," he admitted, his voice low and sincere.
In the flickering glow of the fire, you began to weave a tale of your homeland. Your words painted a vivid picture of quaint cottages with thatched roofs, their walls weathered by the salty breeze that swept in from the sea. The narrow cobblestone streets echoed with the laughter of children playing and the rhythmic sounds of craftsmen honing their skills. "Near the shore, where the cliffs stood tall and proud, we built a small chapel—a haven of solace and prayer. Its stone walls echoed with hymns, and the air was filled with the scent of incense," you recounted, your voice carrying the nostalgia of a place left behind.
As you spoke, Touya's piercing eyes remained fixed on you, absorbing every detail of this distant world he never truly understood. The contrast between the harsh Viking settlements and the idyllic Christian village seemed stark.
"The coastline, painted in hues of blue and gray, witnessed the ebb and flow of tides. Fishing boats set sail at dawn, their sails billowing in the morning breeze, while the cliffs provided a vantage point for the villagers to gaze upon the vast horizon," you continued.
Touya's features softened as he envisioned the serene landscape you described, a world far removed from the tumultuous life he had known. Touya's eyes closed, a faint smile gracing his lips as he absorbed the essence of your words. "You must have been missing the place ever since," he pointed out, the words carrying a gentle understanding of the yearning that comes with reminiscing about a home left behind.
You nodded quietly, the flames of a fireplace reflecting in your eyes. "Indeed. The memories are like whispers of a distant melody, a reminder of a life that once was. I can almost feel the salt-laden wind against my face, hear the distant hymns in the chapel. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I close my eyes and pretend I'm back there, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home."
Touya's smile faded, replaced by a somber expression, as the echoes of your quiet sobbing reached his ears. He opened his eyes, and there he found you, tears streaming down your cheeks, your gaze fixated on the dancing flames in the fireplace.
His heart constricted with an unexpected ache. A flicker of empathy illuminated his usually guarded gaze.
"But it is all gone. All gone. You and your people took everything from me. And now I'm here, locked in a cage of a shadow of something once called life. Apparently, this was God's plan for me," your voice carried a weight of bitterness and sorrow.
His gaze softened as he watched you, the firelight casting shadows on your tear-streaked face. "Gods have their own way of weaving destinies, entangling lives in threads that stretch across time and space. Perhaps, just perhaps, there's a reason our paths crossed in this tumultuous journey."
You gave Touya a searching look, the flickering firelight dancing in your eyes, and asked, "What do you mean? Why would the God bring me here, to this… place of captivity?"
Touya looked at you with a glint of intensity in his eyes. "Our gods are different, you know. Freya, Odin, they're not like your Christian God. They're not confined to a single doctrine. They're free, just like the wind that sweeps through these icy lands. And I believe, with all my heart, that the Allfather sent me to your village for a reason, and that reason was you."
You couldn't help but snort at his words. "You're drunk, Touya. Those gods of yours aren't guiding anything. I'm here because of the whims of men, not gods."
Touya locked eyes with you, his gaze intense and filled with unspoken emotions. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around you, drawing you closer until there was barely any space between you. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "You're beautiful."
His breath sent shivers down your spine, and before you could fully comprehend his words, his lips boldly found yours. Shock coursed through you at the unexpected kiss, your first taste of such intimacy. The heavy scent of alcohol lingered on his tongue, but amidst the surprise, you felt a strange warmth. You hesitated at first, unsure of how to respond, but the gravity of the moment pulled you in.
As the kiss continued, you found yourself brushing your lips against his, a hesitant exploration of uncharted territory. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, bearing witness to a connection that transcended the roles you were assigned in this harsh world.
The following day, Endeavor summoned Dabi to his side, his face stern and determined. The air in the room felt heavy with an unspoken gravity as Dabi approached his father. "Touya," Endeavor began, his voice cutting through the silence, "I have a mission for you."
Dabi's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and apprehension. "What kind of mission?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on Endeavor.
Endeavor's eyes bore into his son's, revealing a mix of authority and expectation. "You, Shoto, and a selected group of warriors, including Hawks, will be sent to the northern part of Sweden. There's a land there with potential, rich in resources. It's time to expand our influence, and you're crucial to this endeavor."
Dabi nodded, acknowledging the weight of the task ahead. The mention of Shoto and Hawks in the same mission stirred a sense of unease, but he kept his emotions in check. "Understood," he replied, his tone resolute.
Endeavor continued to lay out the details of the mission, his plans unfolding as a complex web of politics, power, and strategy.
Little did Dabi know that this journey would lead to unforeseen challenges, testing not only his strength as a warrior but also the bonds that held his family together.
Hilda approached you with a furrowed brow, a concerned expression etched across her features. The flickering light of the torches in the chamber cast shadows that danced upon the walls as she spoke. "Y/N, I need to talk to you," she said in a hushed tone.
You looked up, sensing the seriousness in her voice. "What is it, Hilda?" you asked, your eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and apprehension.
She took a moment before responding, choosing her words carefully. "I think I just need a listening ear. Touya is going on another mission. But what worries me more is that Shoto, his younger brother, is being sent alongside him."
You furrowed your brows, recognizing the tension between the two brothers. "Isn't that a cause for concern? They don't exactly get along, do they?"
Hilda nodded solemnly. "No, they don't. The earl's decision to send them together is raising suspicions. It's a risky move, and I fear it might not bode well for the stability of the mission."
Concern etched across your face as you contemplated the potential consequences of such a decision. The dynamics between the two brothers were already strained, and sending them on a mission together seemed like a recipe for conflict. Hilda's worry mirrored your own, and the uncertainty of the future weighed heavily on both your minds.
You finished brushing your hair, the strands flowing smoothly through the comb. The flickering candlelight in your chamber created a soft ambiance, but your thoughts were far from the present moment. Hilda's words echoed in your mind, and the worry for Touya settled like a heavy stone in your chest.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to Hilda, who was quietly arranging some furs in a corner of the room. "Hilda," you began hesitantly, "is there really nothing we can do for Touya? I can't shake off this feeling of unease."
Hilda paused, her gaze meeting yours. The lines on her face spoke of years of experience and wisdom. "Y/N, sometimes the currents of fate are beyond our control. All we can do is navigate the waters as best we can. Right now, the best course is to stay vigilant and hope for the best."
You nodded, understanding the weight of her words. The unpredictable nature of the situation left you feeling powerless, and it frustrated you. "But what if something happens to him? What if Shoto…"
Hilda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We can't predict the future, dear. All we can do is be prepared for whatever comes our way. Keep an eye on the situation, and if there's an opportunity to help, we'll take it. For now, focus on your tasks and be vigilant."
You sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in her advice.
Hilda observed you with a shrewd gaze, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of concern. As you finished your nightly routine and settled onto the furs, she couldn't help but voice the question that lingered in her mind. "Y/N," the woman began, her voice gentle yet probing, "forgive me if I overstep, but your interactions with Touya have been minimal. Why this sudden concern for him?"
You hesitated for a moment, considering your words carefully. The truth was, your initial reservations about Dabi were not baseless, but something about Touya's vulnerability had stirred a different emotion within you. You looked at Hilda, deciding to share a part of your thoughts. "I may not like him, but I can't shake off the feeling that there's more to Touya than what meets the eye. The way he spoke about his past, about losing everything, it resonated with me. It's not pity, Hilda, but a sense of understanding, maybe empathy. And now, knowing he's going on this dangerous mission alongside Shoto, it's hard to ignore the worry."
Hilda's smirk widened as she spoke, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light. "Oh, my dear, I can see your cheeks flushing when you speak about him so fondly. You're having a crush, am I right?"
Hilda's smirk didn't go unnoticed, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. Her teasing words struck a nerve, and a flicker of irritation danced in your eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hilda. It's just concern for a fellow human being," you retorted, your tone defensive.
Hilda chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Concern, my dear, often wears a different face. There's no shame in admitting you care for him. After all, this world is full of unexpected twists, isn't it?"
You pursed your lips, attempting to maintain composure. Deep down, you knew there was a kernel of truth in Hilda's words. The concern for Touya had indeed taken a different form, and your heart acknowledged a connection that transcended mere worry. Yet, admitting it to yourself felt like navigating uncharted waters.
Ignoring Hilda's knowing gaze, you turned away, feigning disinterest. But within, a storm of conflicting emotions raged, and you couldn't deny the impact Touya had made on your guarded heart.
As the night wore on, sleep eluded you. Tossing and turning in your simple bed, a peculiar yet potentially useful idea began to form in your mind. The notion of extracting information from Shoto about his plans took root, and you found yourself contemplating the details of how to execute this risky but potentially advantageous scheme.
The flickering light of the dim chamber barely illuminated your face as you hatched a plan to subtly and strategically approach Shoto. The urgency of the situation and the looming mission compelled you to consider taking matters into your own hands, even if it meant navigating the treacherous waters of deceit. With a determined resolve, you prepared yourself mentally for the intricate dance of conversation that lay ahead.
In your best dress, adorned with the finest that could be salvaged among the thralls, you made your way to the tavern after learning from Natsuo that Shoto was seen going out with a warrior named Hawks. As you stepped out, the cool breeze of the late afternoon caressed your face, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within you.
Arriving at the tavern, you could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking mugs seeping through the wooden door. Taking a deep breath, you pushed it open, revealing the warm, dimly lit interior. The air was thick with the scent of ale and the low hum of conversations. You scanned the room, finally spotting Shoto and Hawks in a corner, engaged in a conversation.
Shoto's two-colored hair caught the wavering light as he raised his tankard in a toast. "To power and the thrill of the hunt," he declared with a smirk, taking a long swig.
Hawks leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes.
The duo seemed engrossed in conversation, their laughter mingling with the low hum of the tavern. Female thralls, drawn by their presence, attempted to engage in conversation, but the exchanges were marked by a darkness that hinted at their underlying intentions. Shoto and Hawks were having fun in the company of two thralls with exotic features that hinted at a southern origin. The air was charged with an unmistakable tension as the men engaged in flirtatious banter.
One of the thralls, feigning coyness, asked, "What brings you to our humble company tonight?"
Shoto, with a sly grin, leaned in to the thrall seated by his side, and said, "Oh, just the usual – seeking a bit of warmth in this frigid place. Perhaps you ladies could provide some, hmmm?" He mused, running his hand up and down the girl's shoulder.
The other thrall, playing along, responded, "Warmth, you say? Well, you might need to work hard to earn that from us."
Shoto frowned a little, yet his voice stayed low and smooth, "You seem to be unaware of my position, woman. I am the heir to earl Endeavor, and I demand that you address me with the respect befitting my status," he forcefully grabbed the other woman by her shoulder, causing her to tumble off her chair and land on the floor next to him. "So, I suggest you watch your manners, for I am the best you can find in this establishment. Consider your words carefully before opening that foolish mouth of yours next time."
Hawks nodded in agreement, "Indeed, the gentleman here is right. Shoto, don't scare the lady."
The conversations continued in this bold and wry manner, each word dripping with innuendo as the men skillfully navigated the delicate dance of desire. The atmosphere in the tavern buzzed with anticipation as the thralls played their part in the seductive exchange, the one that previously ended on the floor now sat quietly, letting Hawks wrap his strong arms around her shoulders as his hand was playing with her breasts from time to time.
Summoning your courage, you approached them, the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. As you drew nearer, you caught Shoto's eye, and a subtle smirk crept onto his face. Hawks, on the other hand, eyed you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. The atmosphere shifted as you prepared to enter a world of alliances and secrets, uncertain of what the outcome might be.
"Well, well, what brings you to this den of sin all alone? Where's your precious Touya? Couldn't keep up with his demands?" the youngest Endeavorson taunted, his tone laced with amusement.
You brushed off his wry remark. "I think it's time for us to bury the hatchet. Our relationship didn't start on the best note, and I believe we can find a way to coexist peacefully."
He looked at you, seemingly surprised by your suggestion. Shoto considered your words, and after a moment, he offered you a seat with them.
Throughout the interaction, Hawks observed the scene. You gave him a brief smile, trying to maintain a cool demeanor in the company of the two men.
Shoto turned to you with an air of faux politeness, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I believe we can have a civilized conversation, don't you?" His eyes darted towards the thrall who had been seated beside him, and with a dismissive gesture, he uttered, "You, leave us."
The thrall shot you a cold glance before complying with Shoto's request and vacating the space.
Now alone, Shoto leaned back in his chair, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "There, much better. Now, let's chat, shall we?"
You took a deep breath before speaking, "I must admit, despite the fear you instill within me, there's a certain charisma about you. It's hard not to notice."
Shoto's grin widened, appreciating the acknowledgment. "Well, I appreciate your honesty. And by the way, I quite like your accent. It adds a certain charm." His compliment was laced with a hint of mischief as he reached his hand out to briefly rub your shoulder.
You felt a shiver run down your spine as Shoto's hand landed on your shoulder. Suppressing a wince, you decided to play along with his casual demeanor. When he asked about the real reason for your visit, you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Well, I just wanted to get to know you a little better, my lord."
Shoto raised an eyebrow, considering your words. "Interesting choice of words. Here, have some mead." He poured some into a wooden mug and handed it to you, a sly smile playing on his lips.
You accepted, trying to keep your nerves at bay.
Hawks, with a twinkle in his golden eyes, couldn't help but comment, "Quite a beauty you have here, Shoto. Earl Endeavor's thralls are indeed a treasure."
Shoto, taking a sip of his mead, glanced at you and replied wryly, "All Christian women have this softness within them. I just happen to enjoy breaking it." His words were delivered with a certain darkness that sent a chill down your spine.
Trying to maintain composure, you played along, responding with a forced smile, as you looked at Shoto's companion, "Well, thank you for the compliment, sir."
As Shoto continued to drink, you couldn't shake off the unease that settled in the pit of your stomach.
As more mugs of mead were emptied by the men and the atmosphere in the tavern grew warmer, you mustered the courage to bring up the topic that had been gnawing at your thoughts. Leaning in, you addressed Shoto, "Forgive me for intruding, but I overheard that you and Touya are going on a mission. Is it true?"
Shoto's eyes, a mix of icy determination and something unreadable, met yours. He took a moment, swirling the remnants of his mead in his mug before responding, "Yes, a mission to the north. Father believes it's a land rich in resources, and he wants us to secure it for the settlement."
Hawks, who had been listening attentively, chimed in, "Aye, a mission of great importance. The north can be treacherous, though. Many dangers await those who venture into the unknown."
You nodded, though a lingering concern for Touya flickered in your eyes. "What kind of dangers are you talking about? Is it just the harsh conditions of the north, or is there something else we should be aware of?"
Shoto's stoic expression betrayed little, leaving you to wonder about the true nature of the mission and what it might mean for both brothers.
Hawks took a sip from his mead, his golden eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and wariness. "The north is a wild place, full of untamed landscapes and creatures. Wolves, bears, and more roam freely. Not to mention, the weather can be brutal, especially this time of year."
Shoto's gaze never wavered as he observed your reaction to Hawks' nonchalant explanation.
You sensed there might be more to the story, but both men remained guarded in their responses.
Shoto's sudden shift in demeanor caught you off guard, his hand landing on your knee with an unexpected boldness. He began to rub your knee casually, his gaze steady as he threw a question your way. "Let's change the topic, my dear. The ruggedness of our upcoming mission might be a bit too much for a delicate female mind like yours to comprehend," he remarked, his fingers tracing small circles on your knee, playing with the hems of your dress. Then, with a smirk, he leaned in, his tone low and almost conspiratorial. "Tell me, has my older brother had his way with you yet?"
You felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance at his audacity, but you tried to maintain composure. "That's none of your business, Shoto," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "And the mission—"
"Oh, don't play coy," he interrupted, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'm genuinely curious. After all, I'd hate for you to miss out on experiencing the full range of pleasures in our little settlement."
The situation had taken an unexpected turn, and you found yourself navigating the conversation with a mix of caution and defiance, unsure of where Shoto was leading with his intrusive inquiries.
You met Shoto's audacious question with a bold response. "No, my lord, I haven't been with anyone, ever," you asserted, trying to maintain a sense of control in the conversation.
Hawks chimed in with a cryptic comment, "Well, isn't that a rare treasure in these parts. A thrall with untouched cunny, how intriguing."
You shot a wary glance at Hawks, uncertain about the implications of his words.
Shoto, however, seemed more amused than surprised, his smirk widening as if he had expected such a revelation. "You're missing out on experiences, thrall. I could show you what it's like. I doubt my older brother knows how to please a woman. Look at him, covered in scars, a truly disgusting sight. No normal woman would willingly lie with such a damaged man."
You felt Shoto's hand sliding beneath the fabric of your dress, making your breath catch in your throat. His audacious suggestion hung in the air, and the atmosphere became charged with tension.
You pulled away, a mix of surprise and discomfort evident on your face. "Maybe… Nut I didn't have enough mead yet, my lord," you asserted, trying to maintain a semblance of control over the situation.
Shoto, undeterred, leaned in with a sly grin. "Afraid of a little adventure? I promise you, it'll be an experience you won't forget," he whispered, his mismatched eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity.
As Shoto poured another mug of mead for you, you discreetly took small sips, ensuring that the majority of the liquid found its way into Hawks' cup while the two men were engrossed in conversation. The effects of the mead were beginning to show on Shoto, but you remained clear-headed.
The conversation in the tavern continued, filled with laughter and raucous chatter. You observed Shoto's growing inebriation and wondered if this was the opportune moment to extract information about the mission.
As Shoto, in a visibly inebriated state, decided to make his way back to the Great Hall, Hawks was more than willing to accompany him. However, seizing the opportunity to gather more information, you stepped forward and offered to walk Shoto back on his behalf. Hawks, busy with the two other thralls he managed to lure, readily agreed.
With Shoto leaning on you for support, you began the journey back to the Great Hall. The night air was crisp, and the sound of distant revelry echoed through the settlement. As you walked, you subtly steered the conversation toward the mission, aiming to extract any valuable details Shoto might unwittingly reveal in his inebriated state. As Shoto stumbled beside you, you ventured to ask, "Shoto, why do you harbor such resentment toward Touya? It seems like there's a lot of tension between you two."
Shoto's response was punctuated by occasional hiccups, and he spoke with a slurred cadence, "Touya… he's always been the favorite. Father sees him as the rightful heir, even after he attempted on killing him… When he was a baby… I'm just… the spare. I've had to fight for every scrap of approval, every shred of acknowledgment. It's fucking infuriating."
His words were tinged with a mix of bitterness and vulnerability, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was more beneath the surface of their strained relationship.
Shoto's alcohol-laden breath hung in the night air as he delved deeper into the caverns of his animosity. His words spilled out, laced with venom and a fervent desire for retribution. "You see, Y/N… Touya has always been the golden child… Father dotes on him, oblivious to the struggles I faced. I fought tooth and nail, but in his eyes, I'm still the disappointment." His voice resonated with a toxic blend of envy and resentment. "I wish he'd disappear, fade away… It would be so much easier without him overshadowing me at every turn… Fucking Touya. Father might finally see my worth."
As he spoke, you couldn't help but sense the profound wounds that fueled Shoto's disdain for his older brother, wondering if there was any way to mend the frayed bonds between them.
With a heavy sigh, you opened the huge, wooden door to the Great Hall. In the dimly lit hallway, you guided Shoto with careful steps, avoiding any unnecessary noise. As you reached his chamber, the weight of your question hung in the air, and you couldn't help but ask, "My lord… Do you plan to harm your older brother during this mission?"
He paused, his drunken demeanor momentarily overshadowed by a serious glint in his eyes. "Hurt him? No. But if fate has other plans for him, who am I to intervene?"
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if Shoto's words held any truth or if they were merely intoxicated ramblings. As you opened the door and let go of his waist, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that there was more beneath the surface of his seemingly casual response. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his face, adding an enigmatic air to the entire exchange.
The sudden force of Shoto's grip on your waist surprised you, and before you could react, his lips collided with yours in a messy, drunken kiss. The taste of mead lingered on his breath, making the encounter less pleasant than you might have imagined. You winced, feeling a mix of discomfort and confusion as the moment unfolded.
Shoto's hand slipped beneath your dress and moved up your leg, resting between your thighs. As he pulled away, his eyes were glazed, and he chuckled under his breath, resting his back against the wooden wall. "You're an interesting one, Y/N," he slurred, releasing his hold on you and stumbling into his chamber. "I'll make sure you're mine, not his." The door closed behind him, leaving you standing in the hallway, processing the unexpected exchange with your palm pressed against your mouth.
As you turned around, your heart sank, its rhythm momentarily disrupted - there, in the corridor, stood Touya. His expression held a mixture of surprise and shock as he observed you, and an unspoken tension hung in the air.
Touya's harsh words hung in the air, stinging like a bitter truth. "I can't believe you're like that, Y/N, letting my brother touch you this way. I thought you were different, not like every other thrall, but I guess I was wrong."
A lump formed in your throat as you desperately wanted to explain, to make him understand, but before you could utter a single word, Touya turned on his heel and left, the resounding crash of the door slamming shut echoing through the dimly lit corridor.
Now, you found yourself standing alone, the weight of his accusations settling in. The corridor seemed colder, lonelier in the aftermath of his anger. You replayed the scene in your mind, the hurt etched on Touya's face, the disappointment in his voice. It was a bitter cocktail of emotions that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
The truth was, you never intended to betray or hurt Touya. You considered chasing after him, explaining that it wasn't as it seemed, that your intentions were never to betray him. But the finality of that slamming door weighed heavily on your shoulders.
A lone tear traced the contours of your cheek, a delicate testament to the waning emotions within. It was as if you had relinquished something profoundly vital, a precious fragment of your life slipping away, leaving behind a poignant void.
Summary: in a Viking world of power, secrets and warriors, a young woman captured during a raid finds herself entangled in the life of Dabi, the enigmatic eldest son of the ruthless earl. As secrets, scars, and desires collide, their unconventional connection unfolds in a tale of love, danger, and destiny
Word count: circa 6.1k
A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥
MASTERLIST KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU
PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER
ACT II - SHADOWS OF DECEIT
In the steamy chamber, you, your initial shock gradually replaced by compassion, hesitated for a moment before approaching the bath where Dabi sat. You knew it was your duty to assist him, but the sight of his scarred skin made you cautious. Your hands trembled slightly as you prepared to help him bathe. "Can I help you bathe?" you offered quietly, not fully sure how to start the conversation.
Dabi regarded you with those piercing turquoise eyes, a hint of curiosity evident. "You can," he replied simply.
As you assisted Dabi in the bath, your hands gently touched his scarred skin, your fingers moving with care over the gnarled patches. The silence between you was broken when you couldn't resist your curiosity any longer. "How did you get these scars?" you asked, your tone soft and understanding.
Dabi leaned back, closing his eyes briefly, as if summoning the strength to share his story. Eventually, he nodded, and his voice carried the weight of a painful history as he began to recount the tale of how he had come to bear these disfiguring marks. "It happened when I was just a child," he began, his words tinged with a mixture of bitterness and sorrow. "My own father, the earl of this village, attempted to kill me by pouring boiling tar on my skin. He saw me as a threat to his position and did everything he could to eliminate me."
You listened with a heavy heart as Dabi continued to describe the cruelty he had endured, the story of a young boy who had survived a brutal attack and grown up to become the man you saw before you, marked by both physical and emotional scars.
As you worked, the steamy chamber filled with the scent of herbs and the sound of water splashing. "It's scary and so sad," you murmured softly, your words echoing the sympathy that welled up within you in some way.
Dabi frowned, turning his head slightly to face you, his eyes locked onto your. "Don't pity me," he snarled, his voice laced with defiance. "I don't need that."
You felt a pang of regret at your words but continued your actions, gently washing his skin, the soap and water mingling with the steam. Your touch was a silent reassurance, a way of offering comfort without words, as you carried out your task with care and understanding.
The bath process, while seemingly mundane, became a moment of connection and shared understanding between two individuals whose lives had become unexpectedly intertwined in a world of harsh realities.
Dabi couldn't help but break the silence with a question that weighed on his mind. "Aren't you angry with me for what I've done anymore? You seem so calm?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
You paused for a moment, your gaze fixed on him, and then you responded firmly, "I'll forever hold a grudge for what you and your men did. It's unforgettable and unforgivable. The pain of losing my friends will never fade, but what can I do? I'm nothing but a slave now."
The words hung heavily in the air, and the room seemed to grow even more suffocating. It was a stark reminder of the atrocities that had occurred during the raid, the wounds that would never fully heal, and the complex emotions that tied them together in a world where forgiveness was a rare and elusive commodity.
The bath eventually came to an end, and Dabi rose from the water without the slightest concern for his nakedness.
You quickly averted your gaze, not wanting to intrude on his privacy by looking at his unclothed form.
Dabi noticed your discomfort and chuckled, his voice laced with a snarky edge. "Haven't you seen a naked man before?" Dabi asked casually, as he nonchalantly wrapped a towel around his narrow hips. His tone was light, as if he was attempting to ease the tension that lingered in the room, although the enigmatic smile on his lips suggested a hint of mischief. His comment, while teasing, hinted at a sense of amusement.
Shyly, you admitted, "I have seen a few times before, but… it does make me uncomfortable." Your voice held a hint of bashfulness as you confessed your unease.
Dabi grinned mischievously and remarked, "Well, well, you must be a sweet virgin then, untouched by a man before."
His comment caused a rosy hue to spread across your cheeks, and you cleared your throat, struggling to find a response. Finally, you replied, "That's not something I think is necessary to discuss, sir."
Dabi chuckled darkly, his eyes locking onto yours as he told you, "I appreciate your help, but I no longer require your assistance. You may proceed to other tasks."
With a respectful nod, you bowed your head and quietly left the chamber. Once the door was closed behind you, you took a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing heartbeat. Why was your body acting that way?!
Meanwhile, Dabi donned fresh, warm woolen clothes and flopped onto his bed with a smile that refused to leave his lips. As he lay there, he couldn't help but ponder the intriguing encounter he'd had with you. Your presence had stirred something within him, a fascination that was as unexpected as it was undeniable. Thoughts of you lingered in his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder what secrets and complexities lay behind those attentive eyes.
You and the elder woman, Hilda, whose name you had learned, found yourselves working together to prepare the evening supper and clean the Great Hall. There was little conversation between you, both recognizing the need to focus on your duties in a world where neither of you had many options.
As the evening descended, the Great Hall was transformed into a place of feasting and celebration. The long wooden table was laden with a lavish spread, featuring roasted meats, freshly baked bread, hearty stews, and a variety of fruits and vegetables. The earl, Endeavor, and his sons, along with the most honored warriors and shieldmaidens, gathered at the table.
Amidst the flickering torchlight, they feasted, drank, and discussed the latest raid and their plans for the coming months. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was one of camaraderie, where bonds were forged over stories of battles and victories, and where alliances were strengthened through shared experiences in a world where strength and strategy reigned supreme.
From your vantage point in the small chamber that you now shared with Hilda, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the raucous scene unfolding in the Great Hall. The feasting and celebration, in the wake of the brutal raid that had cost so many innocent lives, left a bitter taste in your mouth. "I hate them," you whispered through clenched teeth, the anger and sorrow in your voice evident. "They killed so many noble, innocent people, and they're celebrating!"
Hilda remained quiet for a moment, her eyes fixed on the revelry below. When she finally responded, her voice was heavy with the weight of the past and the harsh realities of their world. "It's a cruel world, my child. Sometimes, we must endure the unbearable in order to survive."
As Hilda instructed you to bring some wooden logs for the fireplace, you reluctantly nodded, asking to borrow one of her large furs to shield yourself from the biting cold of the night. She handed it to you, and you wrapped the warm fur tightly around your shivering form before stepping out of the small chamber and leaving the Great Hall. The night was unforgiving, but the task at hand beckoned, and you were determined to fulfill your duty.
Unbeknownst to you, Dabi's sharp gaze caught your departure, and he furrowed his brows as he observed your exit. He couldn't help but wonder about your sudden absence, but Natsuo, by his side, provided a distraction by refilling his mead and engaging him in another conversation.
Unbeknownst to Dabi, another pair of keen eyes observed your departure from the Great Hall that night.
The path to the stable proved unchallenging, as you followed Hilda's directions, taking two left turns and then one right. The wooden structure loomed ahead, its massive door firmly closed. The village appeared deserted, with most of the villagers having retired to their huts or gathered within the Great Hall, consumed by their own activities and discussions.
After a bit of struggle, you managed to open the stable door. As you stepped inside, the warmth and the distinct, earthy animal smell enveloped your senses, causing you to wince slightly, not being accustomed to visiting stables frequently. Inside, a row of horses stood, their large, powerful forms exuding a quiet strength.
Your eyes fell on one particular horse, a magnificent black stallion with a flowing white mane that contrasted sharply with his dark coat. There was a certain allure to the creature, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You approached him, and with a gentle hand, you reached out to touch his soft nose.
The horse, seemingly recognizing your gentle demeanor, nuzzled your hand, allowing you to pet him. The texture of his coat was smooth and warm beneath your touch, and his eyes, deep and expressive, held a sense of wisdom. With genuine admiration, you whispered, "You're a beautiful creature, aren't you?" You whispered, petting his cheeks and forhead.
As you admired the striking black stallion in the stable, your first thought couldn't help but connect the dots – the resemblance was striking. You couldn't help but wonder if this magnificent horse was, in fact, Dabi's steed.
With a sense of accomplishment for having befriended the horse, you looked around the dimly lit stable. The moonlight streamed through the opened door, casting elongated shadows across the interior. After a brief moment of humming to yourself, your eyes fell upon a pile of wooden logs tucked away in a corner. The silver glow of the moonlight illuminated them just enough to be visible. You carefully made your way to the corner and began to pick up a few logs, cradling them in your arms. The weight of the logs felt reassuring, and you knew they would be essential for the warmth of the Great Hall's fireplace. With your task complete, you made your way back toward the door, ready to return to your shared chamber and continue your duties alongside Hilda.
As you turned around to leave the stable, you heard a brief, low chuckle, and your eyes darted toward the source of the sound. In the doorway, a figure stood, his presence initially hidden in the shadows.
"Well, well, so you're our new thrall," a voice, deceptively sweet, called out from the figure, and he stepped into the moonlight.
Uncertain about who this person was, you bowed your head respectfully and replied, "I'm sorry, but I need to take these back to the Great Hall."
You attempted to pass by the man with the logs in your arms, but before you could do so, a strong hand latched onto your arm, pulling you closer with a sudden force that caused the logs to tumble from your grasp.
"Wait, wait, easy," the two-colored eyes of the young man bore into yours in the dim moonlight.
As you saw him more clearly, you couldn't help but notice the striking contrast in his appearance. His face was remarkably handsome, his eyes mismatched with one being a captivating turquoise and the other a deep gray. His hair followed suit, evenly split between white on one side and fiery crimson on the other.
"Please, sir, let me go. I don't need any trouble," you whispered, attempting to muster the courage to speak more fluently.
The young man, his confidence evident, allowed his gaze to wander over you in a way that was both bold and borderline cocky. His eyes took in your figure, assessing your presence with a mix of curiosity and amusement. There was a playful, mischievous glint in his mismatched eyes that seemed to suggest he enjoyed the effect his scrutiny had on you.
You couldn't help but feel a mixture of discomfort as Shoto's attention remained fixed on you.
With a brazen confidence that made your heart race, the man gently took your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He slowly turned your head from left to right, examining your face closely. "Well, I think I know why my brother spared your pathetic life," he mused with a sly grin, "You're not so bad looking with your doe-like eyes."
Before you could react, he leaned forward and inhaled deeply, his breath brushing over your neck. He let the tip of his tongue trace along your skin, tasting you with a sensuousness that sent shivers down your spine. "Mmmm, delicious, truly," he murmured, his voice laced with a tantalizing allure that left you trembling. "Did you already warm my brother's bed?" The man chuckled darkly, his tone dripping with mockery. "I pity you if you did. He looks so gross, and he is just a ruthless dog," he continued, one of his hands slipping down to rest on your hip. "But if you'll be a good girl, I can help you out, little one."
His words were a disturbing blend of disdain and desire, leaving you in a disconcerting predicament, trapped between your vulnerability as a thrall and the unsettling advances of a man who seemed to delight in pushing boundaries. "Let me go," you pleaded once more, your voice laced with desperation as you tried to yank yourself from his grasp. A whimper escaped your lips when one of his hands slipped beneath your skirt, pulling it upward. His smooth hand glided up your leg and caressed your inner thigh.
"Mmmm, so soft. You Christians have the softest skin, I must say," he mused with a dark chuckle. "Oh, don't resist. I promise I'll take good care of you. What? You've never been possessed by anyone until now? That's even better," he continued, his words a disturbing blend of arrogance and desire, "I'll show you what a real man has in his pants."
Your heart raced, and a sense of fear and vulnerability washed over you as you found yourself trapped in this perilous encounter with the young man. Summoning a surge of courage, you swiftly raised your knee, delivering a well-aimed strike to the man's groin.
He groaned in pain and released his grip on you.
Seizing this opportunity, you made a break for it, rushing out of the stable and turning left, only to stumble and fall into the arms of a tall figure who had intercepted your path. Gasping, you looked up and realized it was Dabi.
"Are you okay?" he inquired, tilting his head with concern.
Still trembling from the encounter with the other man, you instinctively snuggled closer to Dabi, casting an anxious glance back to see the man leaving the stable as well.
"Oh, Touyaaa," the younger man mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with our dear father, celebrating your successful raid?"
The tension between the two brothers was palpable, and you found yourself caught in the middle of their complex dynamic, uncertain of what to expect next.
"I could pose the very same question, Shoto," Dabi retorted, his tone low and filled with irritation.
So it was Shoto Endeavorson, the youngest of the earl's sons, you realized.
"Missed the festivities, Dabi?" Shoto continued to taunt, his voice dripping with mockery. "Or did you get tired of drinking mead and listening to the warriors' war stories?"
Dabi, his expression unyielding, responded with a hint of sarcasm, "Unlike you, I had more important matters to attend to."
Shoto's grin widened as he continued his verbal assault, "Important matters? I'm sure you were busy with looking for your new thrall here." His eyes flicked toward you with a knowing smirk. "She's a delicate one, isn't she? I can see why you're so taken with her."
Dabi's grip around you tightened as if to shield you from Shoto's insinuations, and he retorted in a low, measured tone, "Jealousy doesn't suit you, brother."
Shoto's taunts only grew more sarcastic, bold, and dark. "Jealousy? Me?" he feigned innocence, his grin never wavering. "Why would I be jealous of your newfound… entertainment?" He cast an appraising glance in your direction that made your skin crawl. "I can have any girl I want. I can't say that about you. Ah, our dear Touya, always the less loved of us, has managed to find himself a woman who pities his tragic past and those unsightly scars. How delightful," Shoto sneered with biting sarcasm, not stopping himself from checking you out again. "She has nice legs and ass. I'm sure her pussy is sweet too."
Dabi's patience was wearing thin, and the tension in the air thickened. His voice was low and dangerous as he warned, "Watch your words, Shoto."
But Shoto seemed determined to push his brother's buttons, his tone now dripping with malice. "Oh, Touya, you've always been so protective. But perhaps it's not jealousy I'm feeling, but concern." He walked in closer, his voice a venomous whisper. "After all, we wouldn't want another accident like the last time, would we?"
The insult hit its mark, and Dabi's temper flared. In an instant, Dabi gently pushed you aside and closed the gap between himself and Shoto. His hands shot out, gripping Shoto by the front of his shirt, nearly lifting him from the ground. "Apologize to the girl," he grunted, his voice laced with a protective edge.
Shoto, far from intimidated, mocked the situation. He sneered at Dabi, his voice filled with defiance, "Apologize? Why would I apologize to a mere thrall, Touya? She's nothing but our slave."
It happened in the blink of an eye - Dabi was the first to land a powerful blow on Shoto's face.
The confrontation between Dabi and Shoto escalated rapidly, the air filled with tension and the sound of fists connecting with flesh. The fight was fierce and unrelenting, each brother determined to gain the upper hand.
Dabi's anger fueled his strength as he delivered powerful blows, attempting to subdue his defiant younger brother. Shoto, however, was agile and determined, his own strikes landing with precision.
Amidst the chaos, you screamed for help, your voice echoing through the little paths, desperate for someone to intervene and separate the two men.
The battle raged on, a whirlwind of fists, grunts, and the sound of bodies colliding.
Dabi and Shoto ended up on the ground, a tangle of limbs and fierce determination. Shoto somehow managed to pin his older brother to a sandy path, raining blows down upon him.
Desperate to stop the violence, you rushed forward and grabbed Shoto's shirt, attempting to pull him away from Dabi. However, Shoto abruptly turned, and with a swift, brutal motion, aimed a blow at your face. The impact sent you sprawling to the ground, and you whimpered in pain, feeling warm blood trickle down from your injured nose.
"Touya! Shoto!" The deep, commanding voice reverberated through the air, halting the fight in its tracks. The imposing figure of the earl himself stood nearby, putting an end to the violent clash. "What are you doing?! Stop it right now!" Endeavor's voice commanded authority, and in that moment, Dabi seized the opportunity to push Shoto off himself, swiftly getting to his feet and bowing his head.
"Forgive me, father."
Shoto also stood up, dusting off his clothes, and gave you a cold, dismissive glance before looking up at his father. "Not my fault he started it. I just…"
"Enough!" Endeavor's growl cut through the tension. "Return to your chambers. I don't want to see any of you tonight." The earl's stern order left no room for argument.
Shoto quickly retreated from the scene with a scoff as he witnessed Dabi extending his hand to help you up from the ground.
Dabi asked if you were okay, his tone genuinely concerned, but you simply nodded and moved away from him. Being your captor, you weren't willing to stay too close to him for too long.
He offered to lead you back, but you declined, shaking your head and wiping the blood from your nose with the hem of your sleeve. Instead, you returned to the stable to retrieve the wooden locks you had left.
Later that night, after Hilda had treated your nose, you lay in your bed, shivering slightly from the cold. The unfamiliar surroundings and the tumultuous events of the day made it difficult for you to fall asleep. The night seemed to drag on, but eventually, exhaustion claimed you, and you slipped into an uneasy slumber.
In the days that followed, you hadn't seen either Shoto or Dabi. The routine of daily chores and duties kept you occupied, and it was during these tasks that you had some pleasant conversations with Natsuo, the middle brother. Despite your different backgrounds, you found him to be a kind and intelligent young man, and you developed a growing respect for him.
As you worked on preparing food, cleaning, doing laundry, milking cows, and collecting herbs, you found solace in the busy routine. It kept your mind occupied and helped you feel like a part of the settlement.
During the evenings, you always found a quiet moment to say a little prayer, clutching the small cross you wore as a charm on your necklace. It was your silent act of faith, a private connection to something beyond the Viking traditions and beliefs. So far, no one had noticed your small act of devotion.
One evening, Hilda asked you to bring food to Touya's chamber as the prince hadn't eaten anything for almost two days. Reluctantly, you agreed, taking a wooden tray and heading to his private room.
You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. Deciding to step inside, you found Dabi sitting in front of a long mirror, focused on sewing something. "Good evening," you greeted him, holding the tray with a meal. "I brought you a meal."
Dabi's tone was unusually cold as he said, "Leave the tray and go."
Confused and concerned by his abrupt change in behavior, you couldn't help but frown. He had never been this harsh with you before. You mustered the courage to ask what was wrong, and when he turned to face you, your heart sank.
Dabi was sewing his cheek right by the corner of his lips, mending the area where the purple skin had cracked from the healthy one. The sight of his self-inflicted wounds left you in shock, and you gasped, unable to contain your horrified reaction, instinctively covering your mouth with your hands. Oh, God…"
"There's no God of yours arund," he replied. "Just leave."
However, you couldn't bear to see him in pain, and you shook your head, silently offering to help him. "Let me help you, my lord."
After a long moment of tense silence, he finally nodded in reluctant agreement.
You approached him carefully, not wanting to make the situation worse. "I can assist you with that," you offered, your voice soft and filled with concern.
The wound on Dabi's face was a gruesome sight. His cheek, near the corner of his lips, bore a jagged tear where the purple skin had cracked in several places. Blood oozed from the fissures, creating dark, crimson streaks down his pale skin of his fingers. In one hand, he held a needle, and in the other, a set of metal staples, tools he was using to attempt to mend the torn and damaged flesh. It was a painful and gruesome process, and you couldn't help but wince at the sight. "Are you in pain?"
Dabi, his voice strained and hollow, spoke, "I don't feel much anymore. My dark skin, it's been destroyed to the point that I can't feel much of anything." He went on to explain, "It happened after my fight with Shoto. He hit me in certain spots, several times, and it left me like this, with my skin tearing like a fucking paper." The indifference in his words contrasted with the evident pain he had endured.
You felt a pang of guilt, knowing that this had happened as a result of your fight with Shoto. You took the responsibility for their intense confrontation upon yourself. "I'm so sorry, Touya… I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
Dabi's expression softened as he replied, "It's okay. I don't hold a grudge. Honestly, I'm just grateful that I was in the right place at the right time. I shudder to think what might have happened if I hadn't been there for you that night. My youngest brother, he's unpredictable."
You carefully assisted him, holding the needle and thread as he began to mend the torn skin. Each stitch made you wince in sympathy, and you couldn't help but ask, "Am I hurting you?"
Dabi, with a playful smirk, teased, "No, not at all. I'm just mocking." His words were light, and he continued the process, bearing the pain as he let you help him, a strange connection forming between you in that moment.
Once the task was completed, you couldn't shake the curiosity about the full story behind Dabi's scars. "Could you tell me the whole story behind your scars?"
He glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Are you sure you're strong enough to handle it?" he teased.
You looked back at him, determination in your gaze. "I want to know, Dabi. Please share it with me." Despite the teasing and his enigmatic persona, you wanted to understand the man behind the scars and the mask.
Dabi nodded, and he began to recount the harrowing tale of his scars. His voice carried the weight of years of pain and betrayal as he spoke. "I was just a child when it happened. My father, the earl, decided that he needed to 'toughen me up' for the battles to come. It was just him making an excuse. He invited one of his most loyal warriors, a man known as Hawks, to help with my 'training.' The so-called training involved boiling tar being poured over me. The pain was excruciating, and I could feel my skin blistering and burning. Hawks and my father just stood there, watching, as I screamed in agony. They hoped I'd die." His voice trembled slightly with the memories, and there was a profound sadness in his eyes. "I endured that torment, and it left me scarred, both physically and mentally, I won't lie. But I didn't succumb to my wounds," Dabi explained, his voice holding a note of grim determination. "No, I survived. I was reborn, but not in the way my father intended. I emerged from that torment stronger, more ruthless, and unwavering in my purpose. This is the person I've become, shaped by the brutality I endured." His eyes held a fierce resolve. "As for my father's hopes of having an great heir, well, he can rest assured. No woman would willingly share her bed with me, not after what I've been through. His precious Shoto is likely to inherit the title of earl when he passes, and then his kids. It's a fate I've accepted, but the sorrow within me is still strong as it was the day it happened."
As he shared this shocking and heart-wrenching story, you couldn't help but feel a deep sympathy for the man before you. His past was filled with unimaginable suffering, and it had shaped him into the person he was today. In a moment of empathy, you placed your hand on Dabi's scarred shoulder. "We come from two different worlds, yes," you began, "and I can't pretend to understand everything you've been through. But I don't pity you. Instead, I see how the cruel path you've walked has shaped you. It's made you strong, in your own way."
Your words seemed to take Dabi by surprise. He looked at you, his turquoise eyes locking onto yours, a hint of shock in his expression.
As you turned to leave his chamber, the impact of your words lingered in the air. Dabi couldn't help but think about what you had said. Despite the brutal circumstances that had brought you together, there was something about your meeting that had left a mark on him, like the tar all those years ago.
Two months had passed since you were brought to the Viking settlement, and the seasons had shifted from summer to full autumn. The days were marked by rain and cold, but you were slowly acclimating to the new climate and your life as a thrall.
During this time, you found yourself spending more moments with Dabi. He allowed you to assist him with various tasks, whether it was helping him with chores or lending a hand in the stables with his stallion. The surprising part was how friendly his horse had become with you. The stallion would allow you to feed him hay, carrots, and apples, forging a peculiar bond between you and the majestic creature.
These moments, in the midst of a harsh and unfamiliar world, were becoming a source of connection and comfort in your life as a thrall.
Shoto dismounted his horse, his boots hitting the rocky terrain as he arrived at a quaint little hut nestled in the mountains. The view from this vantage point was breathtaking. Below, the settlement sprawled out, framed by the bay's sparkling waters that lapped against the shoreline. It was a mesmerizing sight, a serene blend of natural beauty and human existence.
He tethered his horse and entered the hut, a touch of irritation in his voice as he spoke, "Finally. I was getting slightly worried you failed me."
The hut's interior was dimly lit, a fire crackling in the hearth, and an air of secrecy hung around them.
The tall man, with his golden eyes and a hint of mockery in his voice, replied as he sat near the fireplace, "Failed you, my lord? How could I fail you?"
He was Keigo, one of Shoto and Endeavor's most trusted subordinates. Hawks was a formidable Viking warrior known for his imposing presence. Tall and lean, his blonde hair framed a strong jawline, and his golden eyes had a piercing intensity that sent shivers down his enemies' spines. What truly set him apart, though, were the intricately detailed wings tattooed on his back, a symbol of his prowess and the source of his moniker, "Hawks."
Among the many tales surrounding Hawks, one gruesome reputation stood out. He was known for performing a ritual called the "blood eagle" on his defeated enemies. This horrifying act involved the careful removal of the victim's ribcage, which, when spread out, resembled the wings of an eagle. It was a terrifying spectacle designed to send a message of dread and fear to anyone who dared to cross paths with him, solidifying his reputation as a ruthless and feared warrior.
Shoto folded his arms, still a touch irritated. "I need to know, Takamison, did you do as I instructed? Did you find the information we need?"
Hawks nodded to Shoto, his golden eyes filled with the excitement of discovery. "I did as you instructed, my lord, and I've learned some intriguing information. Earl Gizzor is indeed working for another, very powerful earl. He resides in the northern part of Sweden. What's even more interesting is that this earl used to work closely with your father, Endeavor, years ago. They were allies in many ventures, but it seems their partnership turned sour due to a significant conflict of interests and businesses."
His voice held a hint of anticipation, eager to see how Shoto would react to this newfound information that could have far-reaching consequences.
Shoto lounged casually in a chair near the fireplace, his legs crossed, and one arm draped lazily against the chair's back. "Alright," he said with a nonchalant air. "Tell me everything you've discovered."
Keigo, still standing, couldn't resist a hint of mocking amusement. "Well, my lord, before I share such valuable information, I believe it's only fair that I see my payment first, don't you think?" He grinned, clearly enjoying the moment of leverage.
Shoto's eyebrows narrowed as he reluctantly reached under his leather vest. He retrieved a small woolen money bag and tossed it casually at Hawks' feet. The bag jingled with the sound of golden coins.
Hawks picked it up, his glare quickly replaced by a sly smirk as he counted the coins inside. "You're surprisingly generous today," he commented. After a brief pause, he leaned in, his voice lowered. "The powerful earl your father used to work with is none other than Toshinori Yagison."
"All Might," Shoto grinned. "Well, well."
"So, what's my mission now?" Keigo inquired, polishing his sword.
Shoto couldn't help but grin widely. "You see, after Touya's successful raid, he's been gaining favor in our father's eyes. I can't allow that to happen; Touya can't regain a powerful position in our family again. I need him either dead or sent on a mission he'll never return from."
Hawks considered Shoto's words, and a dark, intriguing plan formed in his mind. "I've got an idea, a mission that might just solve your problem," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Hawks leaned in, outlining his devious plan to Shoto. "Here's what we'll do. We'll create a fabricated map, detailing a journey to a remote and dangerous territory, one that's rumored to be filled with riches. I'll make sure it falls into the right hands—specifically, someone who will share it with Dabi. And once Touya embarks on this perilous journey, we'll ensure he never returns. Whether it's the treacherous terrain, bandits, or an 'unfortunate accident,' he'll be out of the picture for good."
Shoto nodded in approval, his grin revealing the sinister pleasure he took in the plan. "Very well, Hawks. Let's set this plan into motion, and rid me of my brother's growing influence."
Hawks pulled aside his shirt, revealing a massive scar that marred his otherwise unblemished skin. The scar extended from the side of his neck all the way down to his lower abdomen, a gruesome reminder of the harrowing encounter he'd had in the North of Norway. "I ventured to a dark place up north," Hawks began, his voice heavy with the memory. "A desolate, forgotten land where it's easy to get lost, and danger lurks in the shadows. I was attacked by something… something I've never even seen. It left me with this."
Shoto couldn't help but flinch at the sight of the scar.
"The locals speak of a malevolent force, a powerful draugr said to inhabit that forsaken place. It's haunted, and some claim the spirit of a vengeful Viking warrior resides there. I barely escaped with my life, and I'd advise no one to venture into that cursed territory."
Shoto listened intently, and a wicked smile crossed his face. "Perfect. That's precisely the place we need to send my dear brother. If the draugr doesn't get him, the treacherous terrain will."
Shoto left Hawks' hut with a dark grin etched on his face. As he mounted his horse, his mind was abuzz with the sinister plan he was concocting. The idea of getting rid of Dabi, his older brother, appealed to him more with each passing moment. With Dabi out of the way, he would be next in line to claim the throne after their father's demise. The pieces of his twisted plan were falling into place, and he was ready to set it in motion. As he rode back towards the Skjaldvargr, a wicked glint danced in his eyes, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of power and anticipation. Shoto was determined to ensure that Endeavor's days as the earl would be far from long and happy. He was willing to do whatever it took to ascend to the position of power he believed he deserved, and nothing would stand in his way.
Sooooooo..... You know how you gave us your wonderful MHA mixed with vikings????
You know that I am a little shit that loves to annoy you??
Good BC THAT'S WHAT I AM DOING FOR THIS SINFUL SUNDAY!!!!
I would like to ask for a smut with your viking Hawks :3
Why??? Bc I can >:3
Of course feel free to ignor it.
💎🐺
Warnings: viking!Hawks
SINFUL SUNDAY
KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU
In the dimly lit hall of the Viking longhouse, the crackling flames cast flickering shadows on the rugged walls. The air was thick with tension, a palpable energy that seemed to swirl around the figure of the formidable Viking leader, Hawks. His piercing gaze bore into yours, the ones of the thrall, a silent invitation that sent shivers down your spine.
The celebration ensued following the triumphant raid led by Earl Hawks. After a successful return with his warriors and shieldmaidens, a grand feast was organized to commemorate their achievements.
As the feast raged on around you, the clinking of tankards and the distant sounds of merriment faded into the background. The world narrowed down to the man before you, adorned in furs and leather, an embodiment of raw power.
Wordlessly, he led you to a secluded alcove, shielded from prying eyes. The air was charged with anticipation as Hawks closed the distance between you. His lips crashed onto yours, demanding and possessive. The taste of mead lingered on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, a fiery dance that left you breathless.
Cloaked in the heat of the moment, Hawks' hands roamed over your body, fingers deftly undoing the intricate fastenings of your garments. The air was thick with the scent of passion as he lifted you onto a sturdy wooden table, his eyes never leaving yours.
The rough-hewn table became a battleground of desire, a clash of primal instincts as Hawks left a trail of hot kisses along your neck and collarbone. Each touch was a promise, a testament to the untamed passion that burned within him.
His hot breath whispered promises, and you moaned softly, the sound mingling with his own grunting.
"Look at you, my little thrall," Hawks growled, his voice low and husky, a command that sent shivers down your spine. The hunger in his eyes spoke of a primal need, and you could feel the magnetic pull drawing you closer. "I saw you staring at me for the entire feast."
"I want you, my lord, but I'm nothing but your servant," you whispered, your voice laced with urgency.
Hawks grinned, a predatory gleam in his eyes, before capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands moved with purpose, divesting you of the remaining layers that separated you from the raw intensity of the moment and the cool air of his alcove.
The air was thick with the scent of desire as Hawks' fingers traced patterns of heat across your skin as they slipped between your thighs, rubbing little circles around your slick slit. His touch ignited flames within you, and you arched into him, craving more of the searing connection that bound you together.
Hawks' voice was a seductive melody as he murmured against your ear, "You're mine tonight, completely and utterly, little Y/N."
A whimper escaped your lips as his hands explored every inch of your exposed flesh, mapping out the terrain of passion. The sensations intensified, a heady mix of pleasure and yearning that threatened to consume you.
Hawks' lips found their way to the hollow of your throat, his tongue tracing a path of molten desire.
"I've wanted this," he confessed, his breath hot against your ear, "To taste you, to feel your silky skin beneath my hands."
His words fueled the flames, and the world around you blurred into a haze of ecstasy. Hawks' kisses left a trail of fire as he descended lower, his actions speaking louder than words in the intimate language of desire.
Hawks gracefully lowers himself to his knees, urging you to perch on the table's edge as he gently parted your thighs. Casting one final sultry glance, he plunged into a seductive dance of kisses and nibbles along the expanse of your inner thighs, progressively drawing nearer to your welcoming mound. With finesse, he enveloped his skilled mouth around your slit.
An unrestrained moan escaped your lips, reverberating in the room as you surrender to the sensation. Your head tossed backward, finding solace on the wooden surface beneath you. The sinuous arch of your back accentuates the pleasure coursing through your veins, mirroring the rhythmic motion of his tongue gliding up and down your moist slit. Every so often, he expertly flicked his attention around your sensitive clit, intensifying the ecstasy that courses through your entire being by sucking on a sensitive bud.
He withdrew, taking a moment to moisten two of his roughened fingers with a deliberate lick, and then he pressed them against your sensitive clit. The calloused digits skillfully moved in rhythmic circles, expertly stimulating your clit as he simultaneously delved into the depths of your pussy with his tongue, spreading your labia with the fingers of his free hand. "Mmmm, you're so delicious, little one," he commented casually.
"More, my lord," you pleaded, your back arching further as your thighs quivered in the midst of an overwhelming wave of pleasure, leaving you in a state of blissful abandon.
Hawks deftly slid his fingers into your pussy, skillfully preparing you for his cock. Meanwhile, his mouth enveloped your clit, and his tongue danced artfully around the delicate bud. A skillful combination of flicks and suctions heightened the sensations, intensifying your pleasure to new heights.
"Allfather!" You whined, slipping one hand between your thighs to rub vicious circles around your clit.
Hawks let you do that, grinning at your vulnerable state that turned him on so much.
In an intimate moment, Hawks guided you through the throes of pleasure as your first orgasm unfolded around his fingers. Following this intense connection, he gently lifted you up from the table, cradling you in his arms, and carried you to his bed, where sumptuous furs adorned the top.
The soft glow of candlelight played upon the well-defined contours of his legs, arms, chest, and back, creating a sensual ambiance as he started undressing himself. Each piece of clothing he shed seemed like a deliberate tease, revealing the toned and sculpted physique beneath. Finally, as his pants dropped away, his cock was unveiled, proudly resting against his abdomen; his tip leaking precum.
Hawks caressed his cock with deliberate strokes, his gaze fixed on you as you willingly held your thighs apart while your fingers traced gentle circles on your moistened slit, heightening the anticipation in the air.
With a whispered request, you sought permission, your words laden with desire, "May I taste you, my lord?"
Hawks, in response, nodded affirmatively, closing the distance as he approached the edge of the bed.
You instantly rolled to your knees and crawled to the edge of the bed, taking his cock in your small hands, spitting down on his tip, spreading the saliva with your hands all over his thick, hard shaft. In a matter of moments, you lowered yourself, delicately trailing the tip of your tongue along the length of his cock, starting from its base and ascending all the way to its apex. You enveloped your lips around the delicate tip, expertly applying suction as your skilled movements traversed the length of his shaft. The rhythmic motion of pulling the skin up and down his cock elicited a deep, guttural groan from the earl, resonating with the passion that enveloped the moment.
"Keep on sucking my cock, little one," Hawks encouraged. "Just like that."
In the midst of your passionate encounter, you delicately withdrew his dick from your mouth, allowing your tongue to playfully tease its tip. After a few teasing strokes, you eagerly sucked him back into your mouth.
His hands glided into the soft strands of your hair, cradling the back of your head as he began to rhythmically move his hips, the deliberate pace of his thrusts conveying a raw intensity. A low growl escaped his lips, punctuated by muttered curses, expressing the sheer pleasure he derived from the sensation of your warm, welcoming mouth enveloping his throbbing cock.
In the throes of escalating desire, unable to withstand the intensity any longer, Hawks gently guided your head away. With a commanding yet passionate force, he encouraged you to recline. Subsequently, he pressed you firmly onto the mattress, the softness of the bed and the warmth of fur enveloping you as his weight asserted its presence. The union of your bodies unfolded seamlessly as he skillfully pushed his cock into the depths of your pussy.
In the throes of passion, your shriek echoed through the room, a symphony of surprise and ecstasy. His cock's size surpassed your expectations, his essence an embodiment of unexpected magnitude. The profound stretch, though intense, danced on the delicate line between pleasure and pain.
He executed a rhythmic yet purposeful series of forceful thrusts, causing the entire bed to reverberate with each powerful movement. The passionate exchange of kisses between the two of you intensified, and as your hands trailed down his back, they came to a rest on his well-defined, round ass, encouraging him to delve even deeper into your pussy.
With one exceptionally potent thrust, he elicited another ecstatic cry from you, prompting you to dig your nails into his intricately tattooed back adorned with expansive wing designs.
"I'll cum, I'm about to cum!" You cried out.
Hawks skillfully guided you to recline on your side. Gently raising your leg, he positioned himself intimately behind you, seamlessly reintroducing his cock into your pussy. With precision, he cradled your leg on his hip, granting him unrestricted access to your pussy, and after licking his fingers, he brought them to your clit, rubbing it viciously.
In the heat of the moment, his rhythmic thrusts intensified, drawing forth passionate moans that echoed your appreciation of his prowess. Your arousal manifested in the rhythmic clenching of your pussy around his hard shaft.
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" You whined loudly, fondling your tits.
As the intensity escalated, Hawks skillfully transitioned, his hand moving from the delicate terrain of your clit to explore the bulge in your abdomen. A self-assured smirk played on his lips, his warm breath whispering seductive words into your ear. "Look at you, little thrall, all whiney and needy, just for me. Just look at how deep my cock is buried within you. You pussy fits perfectly to my dick." Simultaneously, he applied a tantalizing pressure on the prominent bulge formed by his cock nestled within you.
The slick juices of yours cascaded down his shaft, covering his blonde pubes in your slickness. Soon, with a few powerfu thrusts, growling loudly, Hawks came in you, his seed spilling all over your velvey walls as his balls emptied. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, that's it, take it, little one, take all of my seed, yeah?"
After disengaging from your proximity, he reclined onto his back, drawing deep breaths in an attempt to steady himself.
Unperturbed by your exposed form, you gracefully shifted to your side, observing him with a discerning gaze. Your hand delicately traced a path along the contours of his well-defined, tattooed chest. "Thank you, my lord," you whispered, your voice carrying a tone of sincere appreciation.
Anticipating an immediate expulsion from his bed and the alcove, you were surprised when, instead, he drew you closer, enveloping both of you under a layer of thick furs. His whispered words brushed against your ear, "I'll make you my queen. Everyone will fear and respect you, just as they do me."
Blinking in disbelief, you stammered, "But, my lord, I'm just a thrall…"
He fixed you with a stern gaze. "And I am the earl. Everyone adheres to my command."
