Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!All Might, viking!Hawks, fem!reader, viking themes, viking!Bakugo, viking!Aizawa, blood, Shoto is a massive jerk
Summary: Shoto’s tyrannical rule and brutal possessiveness come to a head as he claims Touya survived but is a traitor. The hope of rebellion begins to stir among the oppressed villagers
Word count: circa 5,5k
A/N: to everyone who waited patiently and reached out to ask when the next part of Kvitravn would be published — the time has finally come! Please accept my apologies for the long delay, as this chapter comes nearly a year after the last one. I’ve been incredibly busy with commissions and other projects, which pulled my focus away from Kvitravn and Viking Dabi’s adventures for a while. This is the penultimate chapter of the series, and we are now inevitably heading toward the end. I truly hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you for sticking with me on this journey! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥
KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU • MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
PREVIOUS CHAPTER • FINAL CHAPTER
ACT VII - THE RIGHTFUL EARL
The harsh wind whipped through the village of Hvinverjadalr, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea.
Earl Toshinorison stood at the edge of the cliff, his eyes scanning the horizon. His settlement was preparing for a battle that would define their future, a clash with Skjaldvargr, the fearsome settlement ruled by the brutal Endeavor. The tensions between the two settlements had simmered for years, and now, the time for confrontation had come.
As Earl Toshinorison gazed over the horizon, he couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling gnawing at his gut. The morning mist clung to the valley. His thoughts were interrupted by the hurried footsteps of a young scout, who skidded to a halt before him, panting heavily.
"My lord," the scout gasped, dropping to one knee. "News from Skjaldvargr."
Toshinorison’s expression darkened, and he beckoned the scout to rise. "Speak."
The scout took a deep breath. "Our envoy... he was found dead, my lord. Murdered. His body was scattered near the Stenström lake. Me and my comrades found him on our way back home."
A heavy silence fell over the assembled warriors. Toshinorison’s jaw clenched, though his eyes betrayed no surprise. He had sent the envoy with a message of parley, hoping to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. In his heart, he had known the likelihood of such a fate, but there was a sliver of hope that Endeavor would be glad to learn his eldest son was alive.
"A calculated risk," Toshinorison murmured to himself, his gaze drifting to the horizon. "Endeavor, it seems, has chosen war over reunion." The earl nodded curtly, dismissing the young man with a wave of his hand. "Thank you for your service. Go and rest, you’ve earned it."
The scout bowed, his face pale and drawn, before retreating into the crowd. As the boy disappeared among the throngs of warriors and villagers, Toshinorison turned back to the horizon, his thoughts swirling in a storm of anger and sorrow.
Footsteps approached, deliberate and measured. Toshinorison didn’t need to turn to recognize the presence of Aizawa, his ever-watchful lieutenant.
"Earl," Aizawa uttered quietly, his voice carrying a weight of understanding and solidarity.
Toshinorison glanced sideways, meeting Aizawa’s dark eyes. "Aizawa. I suppose you heard everything. What do you make of this?"
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, his mind already piecing together the implications. "It was a risk, sending the envoy. A necessary one, but a risk nonetheless. Endeavor’s response is no surprise, though it’s a disappointment. I thought we would make an alliance over the fact we wined and dined his eldest.”
Toshinorison sighed, "I had hoped that the news of his eldest son being alive might sway him, even momentarily. But it seems Endeavor’s thirst for power outweighs any paternal instinct he might have left. He would rather spill blood than acknowledge any fracture in his rule."
Aizawa’s expression softened, a rare occurrence for the stoic warrior. "Endeavor is blinded by his ambition and pride. He sees any show of diplomacy as a sign of weakness. But we mustn’t let this deter us. The men need your strength now more than ever."
Toshinorison nodded slowly, his resolve hardening. "You’re right, as always. We must move forward. Preparations must be completed, and the men need to be ready for the coming battle."
Aizawa placed a reassuring hand on the earl’s shoulder. "We’ll make them pay for this treachery, my lord. Hvinverjadalr will not fall."
Toshinorison clasped Aizawa’s arm, a silent acknowledgment of their bond and shared purpose. "Thank you, Aizawa. Your counsel is invaluable."
Aizawa inclined his head. "I’ll see to the preparations. Bakugo and Kirishima are already rallying the men. We’ll be ready when you give the order."
As Aizawa moved away to carry out his duties, Toshinorison took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs. The sky above was darkening with storm clouds, a fitting backdrop for the storm brewing within him. He knew that the coming battle would be brutal, but his resolve was unwavering.
The earl made his way through the camp, his presence a steadying force for the warriors who paused to acknowledge him with respectful nods. He offered words of encouragement and reassurance, his voice calm and authoritative.
The settlement was a bustling hive of activity. Warriors sharpened their swords and axes, their faces set in grim determination. The air was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread and the acrid tang of smoke from the forges.
In a secluded corner of the camp, he found Bakugo and Touya Endeavorson, continuing their intense training.
Bakugo’s barked commands and Dabi’s determined grunts filled the air.
Despite the intensity of their session, earl couldn't help but smile as he witnessed the progress Touya had made since his recovery. It was a sight that filled him with pride, knowing that the future king was regaining his strength and skill with each passing day.
Bakugo watched closely as Touya Endeavorson swung his sword, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. The young man was panting, sweat dripping down his brow as he struggled to keep up with Bakugo's relentless training regimen. Recovering from his injuries had been a long and arduous process, and Touya still had much ground to cover in regaining his agility and athleticism.
"Come on, Endeavorson! You call that a swing?" Bakugo barked, his voice sharp and demanding. He wielded his own sword with precision, his movements fluid and powerful. He had little patience for anything less than perfection, especially when it came to training. And he wasn't going to go easy on the prince.
"Touya, you need to focus!" Bakugo's voice was sharp, his crimson eyes blazing with determination. "You can't afford to slack off if you want to get back to peak condition."
Touya gritted his teeth, determination flashing in his turquoise eyes as he pushed himself to keep up with Bakugo's pace. Despite his exhaustion, he knew that he had to prove himself if he ever wanted to stand alongside the best. With each swing of his sword, he pushed his limits, inching closer to the level of skill and strength he once possessed.
"Come on, Endeavorson! Is that the best you can do?!" Bakugo's voice was sharp, his eyes narrowing as he pressed the attack.
With a fierce yell, Bakugo launched another series of strikes, each one faster and more precise than the last.
Touya struggled to keep pace, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But he refused to give up, pushing himself to his limits and beyond. “I promise you, there will come a time when I reclaim all of my strength, and then I'll challenge you to a sparring match,” the prince vowed with determination.
"Katsuki, Touya," Toshinorison's voice echoed across the training grounds, commanding their attention and halting their rigorous practice session.
Bakugo looked up, wiping sweat from his brow. "My lord?"
Toshinorison approached, his gaze shifting between the two warriors. "How is the training?"
Bakugo smirked, his usual arrogance tempered by respect as he patted Touya’s shoulder after the prince approached as well. "Endeavorson’s getting there. He’ll be ready when the time comes,” Katsuki panted.
Yagi gave a slight nod, and then shifted his gaze from Katsuki to Endeavorson. “Touya,” the earl called, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of gravity. “Come. We need to speak.”
The harsh wind whispered through the great wooden beams of the mead hall in Hvinverjadalr, its low howl mingling with the crackling of torches set along the long walls of the Great Hall.
Earl Toshinorison sat at the head of the feasting table, his hand wrapped firmly around a carved horn brimming with mead. His expression was solemn, his sharp blue eyes focused on Touya Endeavorson, who sat to his right, his posture stiff despite the warmth of the hall.
The place was quieter than usual. Most of the warriors had finished their meals and retreated to the barracks or to their loved ones for the night, leaving only a few lingering souls, their hushed conversations weaving faintly through the space.
Toshinorison set his horn down with a thud, leaning back in his chair. "Touya," he began, his voice a deep rumble, tinged with both weariness and gravity, "there is something you need to hear, and I will not sugarcoat it."
Touya straightened, his turquoise eyes narrowing. "What is it, my lord?" His tone held a mixture of curiosity and unease.
The earl looked down at his hands, turning the horn slowly between his palms. "Our envoy to Skjaldvargr, he is dead."
The words fell between them like a thunderclap. Touya’s breath hitched, his gaze sharpening. "Dead? How?"
Toshinorison’s jaw tightened, his calm façade cracking just enough for a flicker of grief to pass through his eyes. "His body was found near the Stenström lake. Torn apart, left for the carrion. It was not an accident. He was murdered."
Touya froze, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Touya stared at the table, his mind racing. “But how? My father, he values negotiation. He knows the power it holds, the lives it can save. Killing an envoy is an act of war. He would have known that.”
Toshinorison’s eyes darkened, and he set his horn down with a measured motion. “Would he? Or perhaps he sees war as the more advantageous option. A chance to assert dominance and crush any dissent before it can grow.”
Touya shook his head, his thoughts tangled. “No, it doesn’t make sense. My father rules with an iron fist, yes, but he’s always been calculated in his actions. Recklessness isn’t his way. This feels wrong.”
“Perhaps it is not recklessness,” Toshinorison said pointedly, “but desperation. Or arrogance. Both are dangerous in a man who holds power.”
“He wouldn’t be so brash as to —"
The earl’s expression hardened, his eyes pinning Touya with a piercing stare. "Wouldn’t he? Think carefully, Endeavorson. Your father’s pride has always burned brighter than his reason. To him, the arrival of an envoy from Hvinverjadalr — bearing a message of peace, no less — would be seen as an insult to his strength. Perhaps even as an attempt to undermine his authority."
Touya’s hands curled into fists on the table, the leather bracers creaking under the strain. "But to kill an envoy? That’s not just a rejection, that’s an act of war. He must have known it would come to that! He is a brute, indeed, but not an idiot."
Toshinorison nodded solemnly. "Oh, he knew. Make no mistake, Touya, this was not the act of a man caught unawares. Your father is playing a dangerous game, one where he believes he holds all the cards. But…" His gaze shifted, darkened. "It makes me wonder if something else is stirring within Skjaldvargr."
The younger man’s eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Toshinorison leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I mean that this level of recklessness doesn’t align with what I’ve known of your father. Brutal? Yes. Arrogant? Certainly. But uncalculated? Never. Something must have changed. Either there is discord in his ranks, or something — or someone — has emboldened him to act without fear of reprisal."
Touya’s mind raced, flashes of memory stabbing through him like cold steel. The image of his father, standing tall and unyielding, came to him first. Then, unbidden, the face of his younger brother, Shoto. The last time he had seen him… he was oh so different from a young man he used to know. Was Shoto now his father’s confidant? Had he become the hand that stoked the fires of war?
His thoughts drifted again, unbidden, to you — the Christian woman who had become a thread of comfort in his life. The way your voice wavered when you spoke his name, the way your eyes reflected defiance and vulnerability in equal measure. He had tried to shield you from the harshest realities of his world, but in the end, he had left you behind in Skjaldvargr. Did you think he had abandoned you? That you had been nothing but a burden, an inconvenient trophy from a raid long past?
He could see you clearly in his mind’s eye: the way you had knelt by the fire, clutching that small wooden cross as if it held the power to protect you from the cruel whims of their gods. He had hated the sight of that cross once, a reminder of the world they had razed to claim you. But later you chose to follow their path. You chose to claim their gods as yours.
Did you curse his name now? Or did you still look toward the horizon, wondering if he might return for you one day?
Toshinorison’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts. "Touya. Focus."
He blinked, his gaze snapping back to the earl. Touya’s jaw tightened, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I need to go there myself. I need to see what’s happening. If this was truly my father’s doing, I’ll get the answers.”
The earl’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “No, Touya. I cannot allow that. You are still recovering, and I will not risk your life unnecessarily. If you were to confront your father now, in this state, it would be suicide.”
Touya’s fist slammed against the table, the mead in his horn sloshing over the rim. “With all due respect, my lord, this is my family! I have to know the truth! I can’t just sit here while —”
“And what if you go and find yourself in the same grave as the envoy?” Toshinorison cut in sharply, his voice a whip crack of authority. “I will not lose you, Touya. Not to your father’s wrath, not to his schemes. Your time will come, but not now. If Endeavor suspects you of betrayal or sees you as a threat to any of his plans, he will not hesitate to eliminate you. That’s the sad truth. For now, you must remain here and recover. When the time is right, you will play your part. But for now, trust me to carry this burden."
Touya slumped back in his chair, his mind churning with unspoken protests. He knew the earl was right, but the thought of staying idle while chaos brewed in Skjaldvargr gnawed at him like a festering wound. Touya glared at the earl, his anger warring with the truth he couldn’t deny. The young prince ran a hand through his snowy hair. “Then what do you suggest, my lord? That I wait here while the world burns?”
“Perhaps your father no longer holds the iron grip he once did.”
Touya shook his head firmly. “That’s not possible. My father rules with absolute authority. His people respect him, fear him.”
“And yet, even the strongest walls can crumble from within,” the earl countered. “Consider this, Touya: if someone within Skjaldvargr is pushing him toward war, they would have everything to gain from this chaos. A fractured kingdom. A weakened ruler.”
Touya stared into the amber liquid in his horn, his mind a storm of thoughts.
"Rest now, Endeavorson," Toshinorison said quietly, his voice tempered with a rare note of compassion as he slowly got up from the table. "The storm is coming, and we will need all our strength to weather it."
Touya nodded reluctantly, though his thoughts remained elsewhere. On his father. On Shoto. On you.
Would you ever understand why he had left? Would he ever find the words to explain it if he saw you again?
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the hall, and Touya stared into the flames, searching for answers he knew he wouldn’t find tonight.
The icy wind swept through the main square of Skjaldvargr, carrying with it the biting chill of an early snow. Flurries danced in the dim light of torches lining the square, their flames flickering weakly against the encroaching night. The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the muffled coughs of villagers and the rhythmic thuds of boots as guards herded the assembled crowd into place.
The people of Skjaldvargr were a shadow of their former selves. Once a proud and resilient settlement, they now bore the weight of Shoto’s relentless rule. The crowd, ragged and gaunt, stood huddled together, their breath visible in the freezing air. Thin cloaks and patched furs barely shielded them from the bitter chill, but they dared not complain. Shoto Endeavorson had summoned them, and in his presence, even the smallest hint of defiance could mean death. Frostbitten hands clutched at thin cloaks and patched furs, offering little protection from the biting cold. Children huddled close to their mothers, their cheeks red and raw, their eyes dull with fatigue.
The village itself bore the scars of Shoto’s greed. Buildings that had once stood sturdy and proud were now crumbling under the weight of neglect. Smoke from overworked forges choked the air, the acrid scent of iron and sweat lingering long after the fires had died down for the night. Every able-bodied villager was forced to labor beyond their limits, hauling timber, forging weapons, or tilling frozen fields for crops that would never grow. Those who faltered or dared to speak against the earl vanished in the dead of night, their names whispered with fear and sorrow among the survivors. Some were never seen again. Others were found days later, their lifeless bodies discarded as warnings to the rest.
At the center of the square, a podium stood like a grim monument to Skjaldvargr’s suffering. It was the same place where Endeavor, the former earl, had been executed. Blood from his beheading had long since frozen into the stones, a dark stain that even the snow couldn’t cover completely. And now, in his place, his youngest son sat on the carved throne, his presence a chilling reminder of how far the settlement had fallen.
Shoto Endeavorson lounged on the throne, an imposing figure draped in thick bear fur. The fur was so white it seemed to glow against the darkness, its pristine condition a mockery of the filth and poverty that plagued his people. His crown, a brutal thing of iron and obsidian, glinted in the torchlight, casting shadows over his mismatched eyes. One turquoise, cold and calculating, the other a stormy gray, filled with malice. His lips curled into a smirk as he surveyed the crowd, his gaze cutting through them like a blade.
By his side, you stood silently, cradling your child in your arms. The baby, a nearly one-year-old boy wrapped in the finest furs and silks that had been ordered from the Silk Road itself, slept peacefully against your chest, oblivious to the turmoil around him. His tiny breaths were soft and rhythmic, a stark contrast to the tension that gripped the square.
Shoto had claimed the child as his own, though he knew the boy was Touya’s, conceived in the fleeting moments of solace you had shared with the man you truly loved. Despite knowing the boy’s lineage, Shoto had insisted on raising him under his rule, molding him into an heir shaped by his own twisted values. You, however, had done everything in your power to shield the boy from Shoto’s influence, whispering stories of honor and kindness to him in the quiet of the night, hoping to instill the same virtues Touya had once embodied.
But you knew your time was running out. The only reason Shoto hadn’t cast you aside — or worse — was because the boy still depended on your milk. When that need ended, you would have no place in his plans. And every argument, every whispered defiance, brought you closer to inevitable.
The square grew quieter as Shoto rose from his throne, his presence commanding attention. He lifted a hand, and the guards stepped forward, dragging a bound figure to the center of the platform. The prisoner, a young man with bruised and bloodied features, was thrown to his knees before the earl.
“People of Skjaldvargr,” Shoto’s voice rang out, cold and clear. “An enemy has come to infiltrate our settlement.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd, the villagers exchanging uneasy glances. The prisoner groaned, his head lolling forward, but Shoto ignored him, stepping closer to the edge of the podium to address his people.
"This," Shoto began, his voice cold and methodical as he ;pointed at the man, "is a spy. A worm sent by Hvinverjadalr to infiltrate our settlement and sow dissent. He thought he could challenge me, challenge us. But as you can see, I do not tolerate treachery."
The crowd gasped, fear and anger flickering across their faces. But Shoto wasn’t finished. His next words dropped like stones into the frigid air.
He turned to the crowd, his expression a mask of cruel amusement. "And do you know what this spy revealed during interrogation?" He paused, letting the suspense build. "That Touya Endeavorson, the traitorous prince, is alive."
Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by murmurs of disbelief and tentative hope. You felt your heart stop, the weight of his words crashing down on you. Tears filled your eyes, unbidden, and slid down your cheeks as you clutched your son tighter. Touya was alive…
The crowd’s whispers grew louder, turning into cheers as the realization spread. “Touya ! Touya ! Bring us our rightful earl!” they shouted, their voices raw with pure desperation.
Touya was alive. Somewhere out there, the man you had believed lost to death and betrayal was still fighting, still breathing. The weight of your sorrow and fear lifted, replaced by a fierce, unyielding hope.
But Shoto’s hand shot up, silencing the crowd with an imperious glare. “Enough!” he barked, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “You will not chant his name. Touya is a traitor, a man who abandoned his people when they needed him most. He is no savior.” He turned back to the prisoner and drove his dagger deep into the man’s chest.
The spy’s body jerked once, then went still, his blood pooling around him in the snow.
Shoto let the body fall, his face twisted with fury. “Let this be a warning,” he snarled, his voice echoing through the square. “Anyone who speaks the traitor’s name again will meet the same fate.”
You felt Hawks’ gaze on you, a flicker of pity in his golden eyes. But it was fleeting, and as he turned away, his expression once again became unreadable.
Shoto turned back to the crowd, his voice colder than the snow falling around him. “Remember this, people of Skjaldvargr: treachery will not be tolerated. Anyone caught conspiring against me will meet the same fate as this spy.”
Shoto’s guards tensed, shifting their stances as the crowd’s unrest grew.
A man near the front, his face weathered with age but his eyes blazing with defiance, stepped forward. “Enough of this tyranny!” he bellowed, his voice ringing out over the square. “You sit there in your furs and silks while we starve and freeze. Prince Touya would never have allowed this!”
Others joined in, their voices rising like a storm.
“You’re not our earl!”
“You’re a traitor!”
“We want Touya! Not you, tyrant!”
The first stone was thrown by a boy no older than fifteen. It struck one of the guards in the chest, bouncing harmlessly off his armor, but the act of defiance was enough to shatter the fragile tension. The square erupted into chaos. Villagers surged forward.
A woman wielding a broken plank swung at a guard, her face twisted with fury. Another man, carrying a rusted farming scythe, lunged at a soldier, only to be struck down with the flat of a blade.
The guards, momentarily caught off guard by the ferocity of the crowd, began to push back, their swords flashing in the torchlight.
On the podium, Shoto’s lip curled into a snarl. His mismatched eyes burned with fury as he took in the sight of his people — his people — rising against him. His voice thundered over the din, cutting through the chaos like a blade. “That’s enough!” he roared, his tone laced with unrestrained venom. “You dare defy me, worms?!”
But the crowd didn’t stop. For the first time since his ascension, the villagers no longer cowered before him. They had tasted the possibility of freedom, the hope of a rightful leader, and it fueled their rage.
Shoto’s fingers twitched, itching to draw his weapon and spill blood to remind them of their place. But Hawks, standing nearby, stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowing as he leaned toward the earl.
“My lord,” Hawks murmured, his voice low and urgent, “this is not the time. Kill them, and the rebellion will only grow. You’ll have a full-scale revolt on your hands by dawn.”
Shoto’s snarl deepened, but he didn’t miss the truth in Hawks’ words. His guards, though armed and trained, were vastly outnumbered. The villagers were desperate, and desperation made them dangerous.
“Guards! Hold your weapons!”
The guards froze, their blades half-raised, and glanced at each other uncertainly. The crowd murmured, their anger not entirely quelled but their momentum paused by Shoto’s sudden command.
“Do not attack anyone,” Shoto barked, his voice cutting through the whispers. “But clear the square. Now.”
The guards obeyed immediately, forming a line and advancing methodically toward the villagers. They did not raise their weapons, but their sheer presence was enough to push the crowd back.
The people resisted at first, glaring at the guards with unmasked hatred, but the weight of their suffering left them too weak to fight for long. Slowly, reluctantly, they began to retreat toward the edges of the square.
“Listen to me, people of Skjaldvargr,” Shoto continued, his voice cold and biting. He stepped forward on the podium, his posture rigid with authority. “This ends now. Return to your homes. No one is to leave their houses tonight. Any who disobey will face my judgment come morning.”
The crowd bristled, but no one dared speak.
The guards began ushering people down the streets, their armored boots thudding against the cobblestones as they enforced the earl’s decree.
As the square emptied, Shoto remained on the podium, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. The snow fell heavier now, blanketing the blood-stained ground in a thin layer of white. He turned to Hawks, his voice a low growl. “This isn’t over. They think they can defy me. They will fucking learn who is their rightful leader. Make sure the gates are locked,” Shoto ordered, his voice low. “No one enters or leaves the settlement tonight.”
Hawks regarded him carefully, his golden eyes unreadable. “As you wish, my lord. Though it seems you’ve already made your point. Tonight, you avoided something awful. A rebellion can be managed. An uprising cannot.”
Shoto shot him a sharp look, his irritation flaring. “My point isn’t made until they remember who rules them. Now go.”
Hawks shrugged lazily but strode off to carry out the order, his long coat billowing behind him.
Shoto stepped back onto the podium, his boots leaving bloody prints in the snow. He gestured to the guards, who began herding the people back to their homes. As the square emptied, his gaze shifted to you, cold and calculating. “And you better remember your place,” he reminded quietly, his voice a venomous whisper. “Your boy is mine now. Better don’t try anything or I’ll have to make sure your pretty, little head is neatly cut off from the rest of your body. Now, take the boy inside, it’s getting cold out here.”
The Great Hall was eerily quiet as you stepped inside, the heavy wooden doors groaning shut behind you with a thud that reverberated through the empty space. The warmth of the fires lining the walls was a stark contrast to the freezing storm outside, but it did little to chase away the chill that had settled deep within you.
The baby stirred in your arms, a soft whimper escaping his lips before he settled again, his tiny fingers clutching at the edge of his fur blanket. You held him close, pressing a kiss to his head to calm your own racing heart. The flickering firelight cast long shadows across the hall, making the carved wooden beams and intricate tapestries seem alive with movement.
You paused near the hearth, your ears straining for the sound of Shoto’s boots against the stone floor. When it finally came — measured, deliberate, and echoing down the hall — you turned your back to the door, pretending to focus on soothing the baby.
Shoto walked past without a word, his mismatched eyes briefly flicking toward you before he ascended the steps to your shared chambers.
You waited, your breath shallow, until the faint creak of the door to his room reached your ears. Only then did you exhale, your body trembling with a mix of dread and determination. Placing the baby gently into his crib near the hearth, you lingered for a moment, brushing a hand over his soft, white hair. His peaceful face was a small comfort, a reminder of what you were fighting to protect.
Straightening your spine, you turned and made your way up the stairs. Each step felt heavier than the last, your heart pounding as you rehearsed the confrontation in your mind. When you reached the door, you pushed it open without knocking.
Shoto stood near the window, his back to you, the snow outside casting a pale glow over his figure. He was still draped in the thick bear fur from earlier, his crown set on the table beside him. He didn’t turn as you entered, but you knew he was aware of your presence.
“Did you know?” you asked simply, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried across the room like a blade. “Did you know Touya was alive?”
Shoto turned slowly, his mismatched eyes meeting yours with an expression that was equal parts amusement and menace. “I thought I had ensured his end,” he stated, his voice calm, almost conversational. “But apparently, the gods had other plans.”
Your breath hitched, and you clenched your fists at your sides. “You knew, and you didn’t tell us,” you said, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief. “All this time, you let us think he was —”
“Dead?” Shoto cut you off, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “For all intents and purposes, he was. And yet here we are.” He stepped toward you, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey.
You didn’t back away, though your heart hammered in your chest. “Why?” you demanded, your voice rising. “Why would you try to kill him? He is your brother !”
“Brother?” Shoto’s laugh was cold, devoid of humor. “He was a threat. To my rule. To my plans. And to my power. A man like Touya doesn’t understand the sacrifices it takes to lead. He was weak.”
As he spoke, he closed the distance between you, his presence looming. Before you could react, his hand shot out, his fingers gripping your chin firmly. He tilted your head upward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You,” he murmured, his tone dark and possessive, “should focus on the present, not the past.”
Before you could protest, his lips crashed against yours, rough and unrelenting. The force of the kiss left you breathless, a tear slipping down your cheek as you struggled against the overwhelming tide of emotions — anger, sorrow, and fear.
When he finally pulled back, his mismatched eyes bore into yours, his grip on your chin unyielding. “You are mine,” he claimed, his voice low and dangerous. “And so is the boy. Don’t ever forget who holds the power here.”
You bit back the retort that burned in your throat that the boy was not and would never be his son.
Your hand froze on the doorknob as you turned your head to glance at Shoto. In a calm, matter-of-fact tone, you stated, "You know, Shoto, the past never truly dies." With that, you stepped out of your shared chamber, leaving him behind. The very idea of sharing a bed with that man made your stomach churn, so you resolved to spend the night in the main hall instead.
As you peeked into the crib to check if your son was still asleep, a single thought burned in your mind: Touya was alive. And you were ready to do whatever it took to help him reclaim what was rightfully his.
This is a turning point for me. I've been silent for too long, but I can't stay quiet anymore.
I'm going through writer's burnout, and it has hit me hard. I've been writing on Tumblr and Ao3 for nearly eight years now (with about 1.5 years on my private blog, doumadono). Over that time, I've written more than 400 stories across various fandoms, created the Sinful Sunday event and a series that many people like, helped many with numerous emergency requests — so many that one masterlist wasn't enough to cover them all.
But all of this has brought me to a place where writing no longer feels like a joy, but rather a duty. In my effort to make everyone happy, I lost myself and took on too much, accepting even the most twisted and difficult requests. It made me anxious and unwell whenever I thought about writing. This is why I haven't been posting much these past few weeks. I missed the breaking point and let myself reach a place where I was seriously considering quitting writing altogether and closing both my Tumblr and Ao3 accounts.
There's something else I need to address. I feel completely detached from Jujutsu Kaisen and Demon Slayer. I no longer feel comfortable writing for those fandoms. From now on, I'll be focusing mostly on My Hero Academia. Even though the manga recently ended, both the manga and the anime hold a special place in my heart. I’ve fallen in love with the story and its amazing characters. This is what feels right to me at this moment. That doesn't mean I'll never write for Demon Slayer or other fandoms again, but not now, not at this time. Maybe in the future — who knows?
Some of you might know that I've been dealing with a flood of hateful anonymous messages. Even though I’ve grown stronger and no longer consider them relevant, it still hurts to read such nasty words. This is another factor why I need to take a break.
So, what's going to change?
Sinful Sunday will no longer cover requests, and the event won't be as regular as it used to be. From now on, I'll post some sinful pieces specifically written for this event whenever I feel it's right. I'll write only for the characters I feel attached too.
Emergency requests will be limited to two slots and will no longer have a 48-hour window to be fulfilled. Once both slots are taken, emergency requests will be closed until I manage to clear the current asks in my inbox.
As of today, my ask box has been completely cleared. I won't be replying to any past asks, regardless of their origin or topic.
Commissions will remain open, as nearly all the requests have been fulfilled.
Regarding the following projects:
The Kvitravn series will be completed this year, but I can't provide a specific date just yet as I'm still working hard to bring everything together.
There's also a new series on the horizon featuring Dabi in the lead role, with a psychiatrist!Reader as the other main character.
As for Kinktober, I made a hard decision it will not be held as an event on my blog this year at all.
As of now, I want to focus on my own little My Hero Academia based AU that I created with my best friend @crystalwolfblog , and this is something that brings me a lot of comfort nowadays, and it's what I want to focus on. I’ll likely create another blog to post everything related to this AU, to keep things organized (the blog will be linked to my pinned post). This little AU was and is my safe haven for the past year and half, and since it contains all of my favourite characters, I want to focus on it fully.
The time for purification has come. I need to rediscover my purpose and find joy in writing again. To those who understand and have stuck with me since the ThePaperPanda days — you’re amazing and adorable, and I can never express how much I appreciate you, guys 💞
I want to share one last thought. This isn’t a statement, but rather a plea to readers: please respect writers, no matter the content they choose to explore. Writing is not as easy as it may seem; it requires a significant amount of time and effort, often taking up our personal time to craft a story. Don't send anon hate. Spread love instead! The least you can do to show your appreciation is to leave a comment, even if it’s just a word or two. For you, it’s a small gesture that takes less than a minute, but for the writer on the other side, it may be a much-needed sign that their work is meaningful. So if you enjoy an author’s work, don’t hesitate to leave a comment. It truly makes us writers feel like we’re on cloud nine.
This MHA Viking AU artwork featuring Viking Shoto and Viking Dabi from Kvitravn story is beyond words — I'm utterly amazed. Massive credit to the incredibly talented @itswannysenpai who brought this vision to life in vibrant colors. My admiration for this art knows no bounds! 💗 Make sure to give the artist a follow, guys!
I'm overwhelmed with joy — I'm crying tears of happiness and giggling uncontrollably. The final drawing depicting viking Dabi battling his brother, the self-proclaimed earl Shoto, is simply breathtaking. A huge thank you goes out to the amazing @explosion-island for bringing Kvitravn story to life ♥
Could you provide us with some NSFW headcanons for Viking Shoto and Viking Dabi? I'M IN LOVE WITH YOUR SFW HEADCANONS BY THE WAY
A/N: I sincerely hope you find enjoyment in this collection of headcanons ♥
KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU
Viking Shoto
He's undoubtedly a dom, with a penchant for sadism. Your defiance only fuels his desire to assert control, and be prepared for the consequences – he takes a great pleasure in delivering punishment for those who dare to challenge his authority.
Enjoys trying out new things, especially in different locations and settings.
Shoto enjoys it when you purposefully go against his instructions, and he's confident that you'll eventually apologize and plead for his forgiveness in the sweetest ways possible.
He takes pleasure in making you cry, savoring each salty tear as if it were a delicacy.
He finds immense satisfaction in the intertwining experiences of orgasm denial and overstimulation.
Shoto has a penchant for engaging in public sex.
Rather than coaxing you into something, Shoto employs direct force and relies on his authority to accomplish his goals.
He absolutely loves doggy style, choking you from behind.
Viking Dabi
He enjoys playfully teasing and mocking you, commenting all of your reactions and sounds you make.
Dabi will leave hickeys in particularly conspicuous places, marking you as his.
He enjoys gazing into your eyes as he brings you orgasm after orgasm.
He is good at sweet talks, but he has never lied about his true feelings for you.
Dabi likes to hug you from behind, placing tiny kisses to your nape.
You might see him as someone dominant because of his physical strength, but the reality is that he's quite gentle on the inside.
He becomes easily overstimulated when you're riding him — the visual, the sensation, the closeness are just too intense for him. It's challenging for him not to reach climax immediately.
He's afraid of causing you harm or even just thinking about it, that's why he'll make sure you're okay and give you the best aftercare after sex, showering you with compliments and kisses.
Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!All Might, viking!Hawks, viking!Natsuo, fem!reader, viking themes, viking!Bakugo, viking!Kirishima, blood and injuries, gore, childbirth, Shoto is a massive jerk
Summary: months after Touya's death, you finally convince Hawks to take you to the place where your beloved man passed away. Upon returning, overwhelmed by unbearable sorrow, you give birth prematurely, and it's clear who the father is. Little did you know, an envoy saw Shoto and brought some important news
Word count: circa 8,4k
A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥
KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU • MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER
ACT VI - THE PAST NEVER DIES
7 MONTHS LATER
Lying in bed, the white sheets felt crisp against your skin, almost blinding when you first opened your eyes. A gentle smile adorned your lips as a powerful, calloused hand reached out, delicately brushing a strand of your Y/H/C hair off your cheek. Turquoise eyes, wise and filled with affection, met yours. Touya smiled, his long fingers tracing the contours of your face.
"Do you know you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life?" he rasped, his voice carrying the remnants of a fading dream.
You nodded, recalling the numerous times he had expressed the same sentiment before.
"I mean it," Touya insisted. "I always thought Christian women were average, but you, my love, you're beyond beauty. You're a goddess. I can't take my eyes off you."
A soft smile played on your lips as you took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips to kiss the place where scarred skin met healthy flesh.
Touya hummed, his gaze fixed on you. "I still can't comprehend why you love me. I held you captive. I ripped you out of your land. And I look like a monster."
Frowning, you moved, sitting up with a quilt pressed to your naked chest. "Stop it. You're not a monster in any way. Yes, our beginning was rough, but looking back, I am grateful you did it. There was nothing waiting for me there but an arranged marriage to some older man and a life of ordinary domesticity, taking care of kids and a homestead."
Touya grinned softly, his turquoise eyes holding a warmth that spoke of relief. "I'm happy you're not holding any grudges."
Shaking your head, you moved closer to him, laying your head against his scarred chest adorned with staples. "You're not only my lover. You're my best friend," you whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his chest.
His arm wrapped around your shoulders, fingers slowly rubbing the naked flesh, his quiet hum resonating within his chest with every breath he took. "So are you. You're the only one I trust."
Feeling his fingers lift your chin, you met his gaze before he pulled you even closer, brushing his slightly chapped lips against yours.
"Always," he whispered after breaking the kiss.
Tilting your head, you looked at him quizzically. "Hmmm?"
"I'll always love you, no matter what," he declared, his words filled with a sincerity that lingered in the air.
Leaning in to kiss him again, you felt his arm, still wrapped around you, suddenly go limp. Frowning, you looked down at him, only to find a pool of blood where Touya, your beloved man, once lay. He vanished like a fleeting mist.
Your heart pounded within your chest, a sudden fear gripped you as you called his name with all your might. "Touya! Touya!!!"
The room darkened, as if happiness had fled through the window, replaced by an ominous void. A sudden, searing pain gripped your abdomen. Clutching your stomach, you clenched your teeth, hissing as the unbearable pain washed over you. Trembling with waves of agony, you began screaming, choking on your own tears. "Touya! Save me, please!"
And then, abruptly, you woke up, gasping for air, the vivid nightmare fading into the recesses of your mind.
You looked aside, your gaze settling on Shoto sleeping peacefully by your side, one hand slipped under his head.
A scornful glare crossed your features as you pondered the man who had used you so many times, who hadn't hesitated to raise both hand and voice at you, the man who forced you to become his concubine. It baffled you that he could sleep so soundly.
How could he find peace in slumber when his hands were stained with the blood of his own father and older brother? The memories of his mistreatment of Natsuo, treating him like a discarded piece of trash on a daily basis, flashed before your eyes. You couldn't comprehend how he managed to find solace in sleep, bearing the weight of so many innocent souls on his shoulders. He had killed his own warriors, loyal to his father, without a second thought. The toll on Skjaldvargr was evident, with the population dwindling by half in the past month alone.
Shoto's apparent solution, letting cutthroats and offscourings from other settlements live among his subjects, only fueled your frustration. The ease with which he dismissed the lives lost and the suffering inflicted upon his own people left you in disbelief. As you watched him sleep, a bitter taste filled your mouth, knowing that the man beside you was responsible for a cascade of pain and death that stained the land.
With a heavy sigh, you touched your round belly, feeling the slight kick from your unborn child. "Hush, hush, my sweet child," you whispered, a tinge of sadness adorning your voice. "It's okay, we're good."
The revelation of your pregnancy had shaken your world. Torn between love for the life growing beneath your heart and a deep loathing, your emotions were a tumultuous storm. Shoto, forcing you to lay with him shortly after you lost your innocence to Touya, clouded the paternity of the child. The uncertainty haunted you, and you couldn't be sure whose blood flowed through the veins of the little one.
Praying dearly to Freya, you wished the child belonged to Dabi, not Shoto. The complexities of your emotions were woven into the fabric of each whispered prayer, as you cradled the tiny life within you, caught in the tangled web of past choices and an uncertain future.
Shoto stirred by your side, slowly opening his mismatched eyes, casting you a cold glance. "Why are you not sleeping?" he asked with an air of indifference.
Rubbing your belly, you spared him a brief glance. "The baby was kicking," you lied.
With a growl, Shoto sat up and pushed your hand off your belly, replacing it with his own. He rubbed soothing circles around the bump. "It's okay, little one, daddy's here."
A gag reflex surged within you upon hearing those words. Excusing yourself, you pushed his hand off your tummy and swung your legs off the bed, slowly getting up. "I need fresh air," you said simply, wrapping a thick bear fur around your shoulders.
Shoto scoffed. "You should be resting, Y/N. If you don't want to care about yourself, that's fine. I couldn't care less. But my baby needs some peace. Don't be fucking long," he growled, laying his head back on the pillow.
Without another word, you left the room as you sought solace in the cool night air, the thick bear fur offering little comfort against the chill that now surrounded you.
The guards in the throne chamber greeted you with acknowledging nods as you passed by.
The night air was cold, and tiny snowflakes swirled on a chilly northern breeze as you made your way through the Great Hall.
With a heavy sigh, you rested your back against the wall of the longhouse, your breath visible in the cold air with each exhale. The silence of the night surrounded you until a familiar voice broke through.
"My lady? Are you okay?" The figure emerged from the shadows, and before you could see his face, you nodded.
"Yes, Keigo. It's okay."
"Shall I wake the earl up?" the blonde-haired man asked, finally stopping beside you.
You shook your head. "No. We just talked."
As much as you harbored resentment towards Hawks for blindly following all of Shoto's orders, you knew the young man didn't have much of a choice. Natsuo had shared stories with you. Hawks, being older than Shoto and one of Endeavor's most loyal warriors, spent a significant amount of time around the young prince. He taught Shoto how to wield an axe and sword, how to fight, and how to survive in the cruel world. Endeavor's lack of time for his own children made Shoto grow fond of his older "colleague," and vice versa.
"You can't sleep again?" he asked, noting the weariness in your eyes.
You nodded quietly, your expression revealing the traces of a restless night. "Yeah, another nightmare with Touya," you confessed softly.
At the mention of Touya's name, a wave of emotions washed over you, and a few tears rolled down your pale cheeks. In an effort to regain composure, you bit your own knuckle, a physical anchor against the overwhelming memories.
Hawks watched you with a heavy heart, his concern deepening. “My lady, maybe…”
You shook your head in response. "Keigo, can I ask you for a favor?" you asked him.
The blonde-haired man furrowed his brows upon hearing your words but nodded slowly.
"Keigo, can you take me to the place where Touya died?" you asked, your voice steady but carrying the weight of the emotions you had long suppressed.
Hawks looked at you, concern etched across his features and a slight frown crossing his forehead. "Why would you want to go there, my lady?"
Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze. "I need closure, Keigo. For months, I've been haunted by the memories. I can't move on until I confront the reality of where it happened. I just... I just need to see this place. I want to pray there. I just... I just need it."
He sighed, realizing the depth of your pain. "Are you sure about this? It won't be easy, my lady, as the earl surely won't let you go."
You nodded, your eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and resolution. "I have to do this. It's the only way I'll find the closure I've been seeking for months."
Keigo stood before you, torn between his loyalty to his earl and the plea you bestowed upon him. The weight of your words seemed to reopen old wounds that he had long tried to bury. "I'll see what I can do, my lady," he finally said, nodding his head with a conflicted expression.
He left just like that, leaving you alone in the quiet night.
Alone, you rubbed your tummy softly, seeking solace in the warmth beneath your hand. "Save us, Freya," you whispered as you hoped for protection and guidance in the tumultuous journey that lay ahead. “Save us from Shoto.”
7 MONTHS EARLIER
When Touya woke up, all he could think of was pain. Unbearable, burning pain that seemed to spread all over his body, with a particular intensity in his legs, even though they mostly felt numb.
The first moment he opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. Strange faces surrounded him, leaning down, their hands touching his face and shoulders. A potent herbal scent enveloped him, making him want to cough and vomit.
The women treating his wounds seemed a little scared, their eyes betraying a mix of apprehension and discomfort at his appearance. This made Touya not only feel uneasy but also fueled his desire to leave this unfamiliar place as soon as possible.
One day, when Touya awoke to find Earl Yagi Toshinorison by his bedside, he immediately understood his surroundings. He was in Toshinorison's settlement, known as Hvinverjadalr.
"It's good to see you awake," Earl Toshinorison greeted with a warm smile as he approached the young man lying in bed. "Are you feeling well today?"
Dabi, still recovering, looked up at the earl and responded with a hint of sorrow in his voice, "I feel pain, my lord. The wounds are healing, but it will take time."
Earl Toshinorison gazed sternly at Dabi, his eyes betraying a mix of curiosity and authority. He raised his hand, gesturing to the maids who were tidying the chamber. "Leave us," he ordered with a commanding tone.
The maids exchanged uneasy glances before hurriedly exiting the room, leaving the Earl and Dabi alone in the dimly lit chamber.
Silence lingered for a moment before Dabi broke it. "What happened?" he asked, his memory clouded with fragments of being sent north by his father, along with his younger brother and a contingent of warriors.
Earl Toshinorison, known for his calculating mind, cocked an eyebrow, considering Dabi's question. The earl regarded the injured man with a measured expression, his voice calm. "You were found by two of my warriors under a cliff, accompanied by the lifeless body of a massive wolf," he disclosed, his eyes studying the scarred features of the man before him.
The revelation hung in the air, a puzzle waiting to be solved. The details surrounding the scene raised Dabi's questions. "I... I don't remember..." he whispered.
"I need you to tell me everything you remember," the older man commanded, his voice firm yet tinged with curiosity.
Dabi, looking perplexed, met the earl's gaze. "The only thing I remember is being sent by my father north, along with my younger brother and our warriors, my lord."
The earl cocked an eyebrow, a calculated look in his eyes. "And who's your father?"
"Endeavor is my father."
Toshinorison jolted up from his chair, a frown crossing his forehead as he processed the unexpected revelation. "Endeavor? You're Endeavor's son?"
Dabi nodded solemnly. "I am. My name's Touya. I'm Endeavor's eldest son."
The revelation lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the room. The gravity of the truth seemed to echo through the walls.
Toshinorison sat back down, his gaze focused on Dabi's face as he spoke, "I'd never thought in my wildest dreams I'd have one of the most skilled warriors of Denmark under my roof." A soft smile played on the earl's lips, a genuine appreciation for the warrior's capabilities evident in his eyes.
Dabi nodded, acknowledging the earl's words. Gratitude shone in his eyes as he thanked Yagi. However, he wasted no time in getting to the pressing matter on his mind. "When will I be able to return back to my settlement?" he inquired, his tone a blend of eagerness and caution, uncertain of what the future held.
Earl Toshinorison looked down at Dabi, a solemn expression clouding his features. "Touya, your injuries are serious," he began, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "I won't allow you to leave until your body is fully healed."
Dabi met the earl's gaze, a mix of defiance and frustration in his eyes. "I appreciate the hospitality, my lord, but I've got responsibilities back at my settlement. I need to return."
The earl nodded understandingly. "I comprehend your predicament, but I cannot permit you to depart in such a state. Your health is of utmost importance. Once you're well, I'll personally ensure you're escorted safely back to your settlement."
Dabi's scowl deepened, but he couldn't deny the genuine concern in the earl's eyes. "And how long is that going to take?"
Toshinorison sighed, his gaze unwavering. "As long as it takes, Touya. I won't risk your life by sending you out prematurely. Your well-being is my priority now. With broken legs that would take several months to heal."
Dabi's frustration erupted. "A few months?!" he exclaimed, sitting up with a grunt, his face contorted with pain. "I don't have that much time, my lord. They must've thought I died."
Earl Toshinorison gently pushed the scarred man's shoulder, compelling him to lay back down. "Easy. I promise I'll send an envoy to let your people and father know you're alive," the older man reassured. "But, as I said, you need to stay with us a little longer. Once you'll be able to walk, I'll admit my best warriors to help you regain your fighting prowess."
Dabi nodded gratefully as earl Yagi got up. "Thank you, my lord."
Earl Toshinorison smiled faintly, nodding his head before he exited the chamber, leaving Dabi alone with his thoughts.
It took Hawks a few days to set everything in motion for the trip with you. The blonde-haired Viking hesitated to bring it up with his earl, struggling to find the courage.
Fortunately, the situation became more manageable when Shoto departed to meet earl Gizzor, who resided in the northern part of Sweden.
This afforded Hawks the opportunity to make the necessary arrangements without drawing undue attention to your impending journey.
Natsuo attempted to dissuade you from the idea, expressing concern about the risk involved in such a trip given your advanced stage of pregnancy. However, you were adamant and chose not to heed his advice.
One afternoon, the thralls assisted you in donning warm clothes, while Natsuo helped Keigo prepare a horse – a stallion that had once belonged to Touya.
"Don't try anything," Endeavorson snarled quietly, ensuring the proper placement of a snaffle on the stallion.
Keigo frowned at the younger man. "What was that supposed to mean?"
"I don't trust you," Natsuo replied, his expression tense. "I expect you to take good care of Y/N during this trip."
"Of course I will," Keigo retorted, his brow furrowed. "I serve the earl as best as I can."
"Of course, you do," Natsuo growled, his gaze intense. "If a single hair falls off her head..."
"Then what, my lord?" Keigo asked, his tone challenging. "What will you do?"
"I'll kill you." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the seriousness of the responsibility Keigo now carried for your safety.
Keigo scoffed and casually walked closer to Natsuo. "Don't forget, my lord, that earl Shoto ordered me to take care of his concubine," he reminded with a wry tone. "So, do not fret, she's under good care."
As Keigo delivered his reassurance, you left the longhouse and headed towards the stable, where you found the men. "I'm ready," you announced, a sense of determination in your voice as you prepared for whatever lay ahead.
Keigo assisted you onto the horse, ensuring you were comfortable in the saddle. Soon, he mounted his own mare, a skilled rider at ease with his steed.
Natsuo walked over to you, his touch soft as he stroked your knee. "Be careful, Y/N. Stay close to him," he urged, casting a glance towards Keigo.
The hawk-eyed warrior, however, shook his head disapprovingly, silently expressing his disagreement with Natsuo's wry comment.
You nodded at Natsuo, promising to stay out of trouble.
Endeavorson acknowledged with a subtle nod and moved aside.
Hawks took the reins, urging his horse forward, and you followed closely behind.
The ride stretched across nearly two days, each passing hour marked by your repeated requests to halt. The biting cold gnawed at your bones, and bouts of dizziness swept over you, making it challenging to endure the relentless journey. The unforgiving weather seemed determined to test your resilience, forcing frequent pauses as you battled against the elements.
The landscape unfolded before you in a blur, a monotonous panorama of snow-covered terrain and desolate wilderness. The horses pressed on, their breath forming misty clouds in the frigid air. The repetitive rhythm of hooves against the frozen ground echoed the weariness that settled in your bones.
Each break served as a temporary respite from the relentless cold, a chance to regain your bearings before the journey resumed.
The trip passed mostly in silence, a thick tension hanging in the air. You found yourself at a loss for words, unsure of what to tell Hawks. There were things you assumed he knew, things you suspected he did, and the unspoken assumptions lingered between you like a heavy fog.
The rhythmic sound of the horses' hooves filled the air as Hawks finally mustered the courage to breach the unspoken divide. "How is it between you and earl Shoto?" he asked, his voice cutting through the chilly silence.
You glanced at him, the weight of the unspoken hanging in the air. "Complicated," you replied, choosing a word that barely scratched the surface of the intricate web of emotions.
Hawks raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and concern in his gaze. "Complicated how?"
You scoffed at his question, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "Are you seriously asking me how it is with him? You well know how. He's ruthless, and it doesn't change when we're alone. No, instead, he's even worse than when we're around people. I know he doesn't care about me. All he cares about is power and the fact I might be pregnant with his child. If it turns out it's Touya's, I'm sure he'll order his men to kill me and the child. So, nothing good is awaiting me," your voice carried a heavy burden of sorrow. "Even if the child is his, I'm sure he'll take the kid away from me and exile me," you added, resignation coating your words. "Either way, I'm fucked up, Takami."
He nodded thoughtfully, the lines on his face deepening. "I see."
The quiet lingered again, the horses' hooves maintaining a steady rhythm. The unspoken truths hovered in the air.
Hawks finally stopped his horse and dismounted.
Your horse halted as well, and Keigo, with a silent understanding, moved to assist you off its back.
Hawks pointed his chin north, indicating a small prominence in the distance. "It's there," he said, gesturing with a subtle nod. Without further words, he began walking in that direction, and you followed, the crunching of snow beneath your boots filling your ears.
Hawks stopped at the top of a small hill, near a cliff. "That's where he fell," he explained, his gaze fixed on the spot below.
You hesitated, feeling the strength drain from your knees as you slowly approached the edge. As you looked down, the world seemed to blur, and a wave of emotions crashed over you, a mix of fear and sorrow.
Hawks reacted swiftly, rushing to you with concern etched on his face. He wrapped his hands around your frame, providing support and shielding you from the potential of falling.
The warmth of his touch and the protective embrace offered a fleeting sense of security amid the storm of uncertainties that surrounded you.
“Y/N,” Hawks whispered quietly. “Do you want to sit down?”
You shook your head, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. "I can't, Keigo... How... how could that have happened?" you asked him, your voice choked with disbelief as you clutched his forearm. "He is... he was a great warrior..." Strong sobs shook your body, the weight of the loss pressing down on you like an unbearable burden.
As you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks, he felt the weight of your grief and the burden of his past deeds pressing on him. The realization of the consequences of his actions began to dawn on him, and he started to rethink the choices that led to this moment. A somber silence settled between you, echoing the heaviness of the loss and the reevaluation of past decisions in the cold air.
You slowly sank down to your knees, not minding the cold snow beneath you. Pressing your hands to your heart, you gasped for air, the freezing wind ruffling your Y/H/C hair. "I know I shouldn't be crying over a man who ripped me off my land, but I forgave him long ago, and I love him so dearly... I forever will," you whined, the weight of conflicting emotions pulling at your chest as grief and love intertwined in a tangled dance. "I just wish I could tell him how much he means to me... to us," you added, gently rubbing your baby bump. With an empty gaze, you looked into the white void surrounding you. "I don't exist without him. I don't want to live without him." The words carried a profound ache, echoing the depths of your love and the fear of a future without the one who had become an integral part of your existence.
"Y/N..." Hawks whispered, placing his reassuring hand to your shoulder. "We should go back."
You looked at Hawks, your eyes demanding answers. "What happened here, Keigo?" you asked directly, the urgency and concern evident in your tone. "I know... I just feel in my bones you're not honest with me."
Hawks hesitated, reluctance painted across his features. "It was nothing," he replied vaguely, avoiding direct eye contact.
"Nothing?" you scoffed, frustration lacing your words. "You can't just stand by and watch Shoto destroy your settlement. Are you blind, Hawks? Blind to the destruction he causes, the lives he ruins?" The disappointment in your voice was palpable. "I may not be one of you, I'm a foreigner, that's true, but even to me, Skjaldvargr became home, and it truly hurts to witness it sinking under the spearheading of Shoto. Keigo, we need to stop him," you dared to say through sobs, raising your head to look into the man's golden eyes.
You saw Keigo hesitating, and deep inside, you sensed that a part of him agreed with your words. However, he remained silent.
Lowering your head, hot tears gouged trails in your pale cheeks, falling to the frozen ground beneath you. "He's going to get rid of us all once he doesn't find a purpose for us anymore. Mark my words," you whispered, the weight of your foreboding sinking into the cold, silent air.
Keigo suddenly opened up, his usual guarded demeanor faltering for a moment. "Look, Y/N, it's not that I can't see the destruction. It's just... I'm bound by loyalty. Loyalty to Shoto, even to his father Endeavor, may Allfather let his soul rest. As a warrior, it's not easy to defy the orders of those you've sworn allegiance to. I've known Shoto for a long time, since he was a little child, and I watched him grow. He's a fierce leader, a warrior of unmatched skill. And I swear to my life that I'll protect him." He sighed, conflicted emotions evident in his eyes. "But I do see your point. I can't ignore the destruction, the pain he's causing. It's tearing me apart too."
You slowly got up, looking up at the warrior. "Keigo," you whispered, your voice filled with a newfound understanding. "At first, I thought you were just a dumb marionette in the hands of Shoto, and I hated you with every fiber of my being. But now, I understand. There's only one way you can be freed, and that's by defeating Shoto. Do you think that's what Endeavor would want for his people, for his home?"
Keigo lowered his head, a heavy sigh escaping him. "Y/N, I've questioned my loyalty before, but it's not that simple. Defeating Shoto would mean betraying everything I've known, the code I've lived by. It's not just about me; it's about the years of service, the bonds forged in battles. But," he hesitated, glancing at you, "I can't ignore the destruction he's causing."
You looked up at him with sparks of hope in your eyes. "We need to do something. I don't ask you to stab him in the back. All I ask of you is not to stand in my way when I finally get a plan."
Keigo shook his head, and after a heavy sigh, and a moment of silence, he nodded, a subtle agreement to support your efforts.
You rubbed his shoulder gently. "Thank you for showing your true self, Takami," you expressed, a subtle gratitude in your touch. Glancing back above your shoulder, you shivered, not only from the overwhelming cold but also from the uneasy feeling building within your gut. "Let's get back home, shall we?"
Keigo nodded, and you both slowly descended the little hill.
However, you suddenly stopped. "Can you wait by the horses? I want to make a prayer," you asked, looking at him earnestly.
He agreed with a solemn nod, giving you the space you needed for your moment of reflection.
You found yourself in a white void, tiny snowflakes swirling in the cold breeze all around you. As you began to pray, your words were carried away by the frigid wind. "Oh, Allfather, hear my plea," you whispered, your voice merging with the stillness of the snowy expanse. "Grant my beloved Touya the rest among his ancestors in Valhalla. May he find solace and honor in the halls of the fallen warriors. Allfather," you continued, the words escaping your lips in the icy stillness, "grant Touya and Endeavor a reunion among the hallowed halls of your kingdom. Let them feast among the brave warriors, reunited in the afterlife. May their spirits know peace and camaraderie beyond the troubles of this world. I beseech you, Allfather, heed this prayer and let their souls find solace, together."
Your gaze shifted to the heavens. "Freya, goddess of love and guidance, lend me your strength. Guide me through the tumultuous path ahead. Even though I used to be a Christian, I am willing to pay with my life if needed. I believe in the power of your wisdom and protection. Help me, guide me, as I navigate the challenges that lay ahead. In your names, I find strength and solace."
With that, you let the silent void envelop you once more, the cold winds carrying your earnest plea into the vast expanse of the unknown.
Keigo waited for you and walked you back to the horses. With a gentle assist, he helped you mount Dabi's stallion, and soon, the rhythmic beat of hooves echoed as you headed back home.
The wind howled through the icy landscape, biting into the skin of Bakugo and Kirishima as they sat outside their hut.
Suddenly Bakugo scoffed loudly, his eyes fixed on a figure limping through the dirt path towards the longhouse of earl Toshinorison.
The man, using wooden crutches, struggled with each step, pain etched across his scarred face.
Bakugo's disdain was evident in his voice. "Tsk! Look at that cripple! He's not even able to walk without wincing like a pathetic bitch."
Kirishima shot his friend a sharp look and retaliated by throwing a tiny rock in his direction. "Quit it, Bakugo. He's not a cripple, and stop calling him names. He's Endeavorson, one of the best warriors of our times. That's not manly, calling someone names just because they're facing a tough time. It's only been three months since we found him, and he's already escaped death, man. Give him time," Kirishima huffed, turning his attention back to polishing his battle axe.
Bakugo rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Did you fall in love with him, huh, shitty hair?"
Kirishima shot him another glare. "Quit it, I said."
"Or what, idiot?!" Bakugo raised his voice, challenging his friend.
Kirishima rose from his spot, attaching his axe to his thick, leather belt. "Or I won't let you sleep near the fireplace tonight, man."
"Oi! Don't get offended at me just because of some stranger, Kirishima!" Bakugo retorted, but the red-haired man paid him no mind. Determination gleamed in Kirishima's eyes as he made his way towards the man walking with crutches.
"Hey," Kirishima called out, his voice cutting through the icy air. "How are you feeling, Endeavorson?" There was a genuine concern in his eyes, a stark contrast to the disdain Bakugo had shown earlier. Kirishima's approach was both unexpected and kind, catching Touya off guard.
Touya, unused to such warmth, stopped in his tracks, wooden crutches supporting his weakened frame. He looked at the red haired, tall man, surprise mingled with a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "I... I'm fine," he mumbled, unsure of how to respond to someone who wasn't avoiding him or hurling insults.
Kirishima didn't seem deterred by Touya's guarded response. Instead, he persisted, "No need to act tough. We," he pointed his head to the blonde haired man sitting near a little hut, "found you under those snowy cliffs, barely hanging on. Must've been a tough journey, huh? How's the healing going? You're not pushing yourself too hard, are you?"
Touya blinked, the concern in Kirishima's words sinking in. A small, appreciative smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he replied, "It's been... challenging. But I appreciate your concern. Not many here bother to ask how I'm doing, but I understand. They're afraid of me."
Kirishima nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. "Well, we're not all heartless. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," he smiled. "So were you able to remind yourself what happened on that cliff, man?"
Touya's gaze flickered with a mix of gratitude and hesitation as he continued to walk, Kirishima keeping pace beside him. The snowy landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, mirroring the uncertainties that clouded Touya's memory. "I... I've been trying," Touya confessed, his voice carrying the weight of the struggle. "But it's all foggy, like trying to grasp onto a dream slipping through your fingers, you know? I remember the biting cold, the shadows, and then... nothing. It's frustrating."
Kirishima nodded understandingly, his rugged features softened with empathy. "Must've been a hell of an ordeal. But you made it out alive, and that counts for something, right?"
Touya offered a faint smile, appreciating Kirishima's attempt to find a silver lining. "Yeah, it does. I'm grateful for the second chance, even if the details are elusive. Maybe with time, the memories will piece themselves together."
Touya's gaze lingered on the vast, snowy expanse, contemplating the unknown that lay ahead.
Kirishima, sensing Touya's internal struggle, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We're here for you, Endeavorson. Whatever you're going through, you don't have to face it alone," Kirishima spoke with sincerity. "I most likely won't understand fully what you're going through, but you have a friend in me."
Touya nodded appreciatively, grateful for the unexpected ally by his side.
The path to the longhouse was accompanied by a comfortable silence, broken only by the crunch of their footsteps on the dirt path.
Kirishima decided to broach a topic he had heard from Earl Yagi. "Hey, Touya," Kirishima began, a curious glint in his eyes. "I heard from earl Yagi that you were eager to depart as soon as you woke up. What's the rush?"
Touya's gaze shifted, his expression momentarily distant as he recalled the urgency that had fueled his desire to leave. "Yeah," he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. "My family... they must've thought I died. I just wanted to see them again, let them know I'm alive."
Kirishima's grin widened, sensing there might be more to the story. "Is it just about family, or is there a special someone waiting for you, too?"
Touya's cheeks tinged with a subtle blush, and he averted his gaze. "Well, there is someone. I want to see her again."
Kirishima chuckled heartily, clapping Touya on the back. "Ah, love! Now it makes sense. A man's got priorities, that's so manly! You're not alone in wanting to reunite with your loved one. We all have something or someone worth fighting for."
Touya's embarrassment transformed into a bashful smile, appreciating Kirishima's understanding.
The imposing structure of the Great Hall loomed ahead, its massive doors beckoning them forward. Kirishima came to a stop, turning to face Touya with a determined expression. "Just so you know," Kirishima began, his voice carrying a tone of sincerity, "I and my best friend Bakugo, that forever-offended blonde you saw earlier, were assigned to help you regain your prowess in fighting once your legs work well again. And just don't mind Bakugo, he has an awful personality, but he's a great and skilled warrior."
Touya nodded appreciatively, grateful for the information and the support he was receiving in this unfamiliar place. "Thank you, Kirishima. I appreciate the help."
As they approached the heavy doors of the Great Hall, Kirishima stepped forward, taking the initiative to open them for Touya. The creaking hinges echoed through the hall as the doors swung open, revealing the grandeur within.
"Go ahead," Kirishima gestured, a courteous smile on his face. "Take your time. And you can call me Eijiro or Red Riot, whatever suits you better."
Touya nodded again, his gratitude evident in his turquoise eyes. He slowly made his way inside, the warmth of the hall a stark contrast to the cold exterior.
Kirishima remained at the entrance, waiting patiently until Touya had safely entered the hall. "Good luck in there," Kirishima offered a parting wish, his voice filled with genuine encouragement. "And if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. We're here for you."
With that, Kirishima bid farewell to Touya and turned to go about his duties, leaving the Great Hall behind him.
The heavy doors closed with a resounding thud, enveloping Touya in the welcoming embrace of the earl's domain.
Earl Toshinorison, immersed in the weight of his responsibilities, looked up from the documents as he noticed Touya entering the room. A warm smile played on his lips, and he beckoned for Touya to join him. "Oh, Touya, come here, come here," earl Yagi greeted, his voice carrying a sense of camaraderie.
Touya, despite the lingering pain in his legs, slowly made his way to a long table and took a seat on a wooden chair with a heavy sigh. "Any news from the envoy, my lord?" Touya inquired, his tone laced with concern. "Forgive me for asking about this repeatedly, but it's already been several days, and we haven't heard from them yet."
Earl Yagi placed a paper on the table and set the metal stylus aside, giving Endeavorson a knowing glance. "You're impatient, son. I'm sure we'll hear from them soon. Don't forget your settlement is nearly four days away from here," he reminded, attempting to assuage Touya's worries.
Despite the reassurance, an unfamiliar, unpleasant feeling lingered within Touya whenever he thought about his home. He hoped for the well-being of everyone there, especially Shoto, praying that he had managed to escape the looming threat they apparently faced together. And then there was you, his beloved woman, whose name rolled off Touya's lips every relentless night.
Touya nodded in acknowledgment of earl Yagi's words, yet the unease persisted. The distant wait for news from his homeland weighed heavily on him, and the yearning for assurance about the safety and happiness of those he left behind lingered like a shadow in the depths of his thoughts.
Shortly after returning from your journey with Hawks, you began feeling unwell.
A day later, Shoto returned from his own trip, only to find you in considerable pain, experiencing contractions.
The burden of sorrow and sadness weighed heavily on you, prompting an untimely and challenging childbirth.
You lay on the bed in earl Shoto's room, the sheets already stained with your blood and tears. The midwives bustled around you, their faces etched with concern. The pain was unbearable, like a thousand knives stabbing you with each contraction. You screamed, the sound echoing through the room.
Shoto paced back and forth near the bed, his face contorted with worry. "Help her!" he screamed at the thralls, his voice filled with pure rage. "Help her or I'll hang you by the dawn!"
They scurried to your side, wiping your forehead with a damp cloth. The pain was indescribable, a searing, burning sensation that threatened to consume you.
Shoto's face was pale as he watched the scene unfold. He glanced between your legs, his eyes widening at the sight of blood and gore.
Shoto's eyes darted away, an involuntary reaction to a scene that was unbearable even for someone who had witnessed his fair share of hardships. The weight of the sights he had seen in the past seemed to pale in comparison to what lay before him now. "Do something! She's in pain!" he roared.
"Push, my lady," one of the midwives urged, her voice gentle but firm. "You need to push!"
You bore down, your body shaking with the effort. You could feel the baby's head crowning, the sensation both terrifying and exhilarating. You gritted your teeth and pushed. You had never felt pain like this before, but you knew it would all be worth it in the end. "I... Can't..." you whimpered, your head rolling back to the pillows.
"Again, push now," the midwife said, her voice soothing. "You're doing great, my lady. Just a little bit more, and the baby will be here, my lady."
You pushed once more, using all of your strength, feeling the baby slip from your body, and you screamed in pain again.
The midwives rushed to clean the baby, their faces alight with joy. "It's a boy," one of them said, and you felt a surge of love and happiness as the first tears rolled down your flushed cheeks.
But your pain was far from over. The afterbirth needed to be delivered, and the contractions continued to rack your body. You screamed, the sound primal and raw.
Shoto's face was a mask of worry, but he remained silent, knowing that there was nothing he could do to ease your pain.
The midwives worked quickly, delivering the afterbirth and cleaning you up. The pain slowly began to subside, leaving you exhausted but relieved.
Shoto approached the midwife who was holding the newborn. After the baby was cleaned, it was passed to the young earl. He scoffed loudly, growing angry upon seeing a white down on the little boy's head and the pair of perfectly turquoise eyes slowly opening from time to time. "Fuck," Shoto growled with anger.
You begged the midwife to pass you the baby, and she took the baby from Shoto after he passed it with anger.
The baby was placed to your chest, and you slowly stroked the little head. It was Touya's child. Shoto's anger was now painfully clear.
You hesitated to meet Shoto's gaze, apprehensive of the storm brewing within him. His face was etched with pure rage, and for a moment, you feared his reaction.
Shoto, after a moment of tense silence, finally spoke, his voice cold and measured. "I should expect you to bear my deceased brother's child," he stated, his eyes locked onto yours. “Pathetic whore.”
As you glanced at him with a mix of fear and uncertainty, Shoto's expression softened slightly, yet you noticed a twisted grimace curling his lips. "However," he continued, "I'll raise this boy as my own son. Once you recover from childbirth, we'll lay together again. And again. And again. I'll ensure you give me my own heir."
You trembled at Shoto's words, the mere thought of having to lay with him again sending a cold shiver down your spine. The weight of his expectations, the complex emotions surrounding the situation, and the uncertainty of your future left you paralyzed.
Before you could manage a reply, Shoto simply left the room, leaving behind a lingering coldness in his wake. His parting words, a sharp and indifferent command to his thralls, hung in the air. "Clean that fucking mess."
You looked down at the crying baby nestled in your arms, his tiny features a poignant reminder of the complex emotions swirling within you. Gently, you pressed a tender kiss on the tiny forehead, feeling the warmth of your affection seep into the fragile being. "My little boy. My beautiful boy," you whispered, your voice a mixture of love, gratitude, and a tinge of sorrow. The tear that rolled down your cheek bore witness to the intricate tapestry of emotions woven into this moment.
With a heartfelt sincerity, you turned your gaze skyward and silently thanked Freya, the goddess who had guided you through this tumultuous journey. Gratitude filled your heart for the gift of Touya's son, a precious life that now depended on your love and care.
In the quiet moments that followed, the room seemed to echo with the soft cries of the newborn, a testament to the fragility and resilience of life. As you cradled the baby close, you vowed to navigate the challenges ahead with the same strength and determination that had brought you to this moment. And in the stillness of the room, you found solace in the love that already bloomed between you and the tiny soul entrusted to your care.
Meanwhile, Shoto sat heavily on the throne in the grand throne chamber, the weight of recent events evident in the furrowed lines on his forehead. The air in the room seemed thick with tension as he grappled with the tumultuous emotions swirling within.
Hawks, having learned from the guards that the child had been born, stepped into the chamber cautiously. "My lord?" he inquired, bowing respectfully to Shoto.
The red-and-white-haired earl glanced at his most trusted warrior, his expression a mix of frustration and agitation. "It's his," Shoto snarled, the words escaping his lips with a venomous edge. "He won't stop hounding me, even from the afterlife."
Hawks, recognizing the gravity of Shoto's words, remained silent for a moment, his keen eyes studying the earl's troubled demeanor.
"Is that Odin trying to punish me for my deeds? Apparently, the past never dies," Shoto's voice cut through the somber air, a question directed more to the invisible forces than to anyone present in the room. His mismatched eyes remained fixed on some distant point, as if seeking answers in the unseen. "All I ever wanted was to make Skjaldvargr strong like never before, so everyone would fear us," Shoto continued, his voice carrying a mix of determination and introspection.
As the room absorbed his words, Shoto's thoughts seemed to wander into the realm of self-doubt. "Maybe I made a mistake letting Touya die? Killing my father?" he whispered, the words almost lost in the echoes of his inner turmoil. A moment later, he shook his head, as if attempting to dispel the doubts that threatened to take root. "No. All these decisions were good."
Before the heavy silence could stretch further, a guard interrupted, stepping into the room with news. "My lord, an envoy from Hvinverjadalr pleads to see you."
Shoto's frown deepened, exchanging glances with Hawks, who maintained his silent vigil. With a reluctant nod, the earl acknowledged the envoy's request, setting aside the internal struggle for the time being to face the external challenges that awaited him in the form of the visiting envoy.
The guards led the older man into the throne chamber, where he was forced to kneel before Shoto, the earl of Skjaldvargr. Shoto, in a gesture of casual indifference, rested his chin on his hand, which was propped against an armrest of his bespangled throne, his mismatched eyes keenly observing the envoy.
The older man bowed respectfully and identified himself as an envoy from Hvinverjadalr, bearing a message from Earl Toshinorison.
Shoto's expression tightened slightly at the mention of the earl's name. All Might, known by that call sign, was a formidable adversary of Shoto's deceased father, Endeavor.
"What message are you bringing to us?" Shoto inquired, his tone measured and unwavering.
The envoy bowed once more before revealing the content of the message. "Our earl wants to let you know your brother, Touya Endeavorson, is well and alive in our settlement."
Shoto's eyes widened slowly, the weight of the revelation sinking in. The news was like a sudden gust of wind, sweeping away the hopes of his carefully crafted plans to turn true. A mix of disbelief and hope flickered in Shoto's mismatched eyes, and for a moment, the throne chamber seemed suspended in a profound silence as the implications of this unexpected revelation unfolded. “Is that so?” he ground his question out.
The envoy nodded his head, offering an explanation for the delayed revelation. "We didn't let you know earlier, my lord, as Touya was in a very serious health condition. Thankfully, Allfather helped him to survive and slowly regain his health."
Shoto's gaze shifted to Hawks, the unspoken understanding between them echoing in the charged silence.
Hawks felt his heart quicken within his chest, a mix of surprise and worry coursing through his veins. The news, while unexpected, carried a glimmer of hope, a flicker of a possibility Hawks hadn't dared to entertain until now. Perhaps Y/N words were prophetic?
Shoto's features remained composed, but the intensity in his mismatched eyes betrayed the emotions churning beneath the surface.
Shoto, with practiced ease, managed to summon a smile that did not reach his mismatched eyes. "Thank you for the news," he said, his tone wryly polite. The revelation about Touya's survival had stirred a tempest of conflicting emotions within him, and Shoto struggled to conceal the storm behind a veneer of civility. He leaned back into his throne, feigning casual interest. "Did my brother share any details about what happened?" Shoto inquired, a facade of genuine concern in his voice.
The envoy shook his head, "No, my lord. Touya doesn't remember much."
Shoto's grin, though slight, carried a complexity of emotions. It was a bittersweet acknowledgment, for while Touya's survival brought threat to all of Shoto's plans, the memory loss shielded him from the painful truth of Shoto's involvement in the events that had transpired.
"And for that wonderful news, you deserve a reward," Shoto declared, a saccharine smile playing on his lips. His gaze shifted to a guard, and with a small nod, the envoy's fate was sealed.
In a swift, merciless motion, the guard slit the envoy's throat, and the dying man was unceremoniously pushed onto the stone floor. The chamber echoed with the grotesque sounds of a life seeping away.
Shoto nodded at his guards, his demeanor betraying little emotion. "Clean the mess and dispose of the body," he ordered, rising from the throne.
Hawks approached the earl, his eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What are you planning to do now, my lord?" he inquired, his tone laced with a sense of anticipation.
Shoto regarded him with a pointed look, his expression unyielding. "We are preparing for war," he declared, his voice carrying a resolute edge. "I won't allow our people to rally behind Touya. The truth of his survival will inevitably surface, that much is certain. So, we'll take the initiative. We'll inform them that my eldest brother, dear as he may be, has chosen to form an alliance with our notorious adversary, Toshinorison. It will serve as a perfect pretext to launch an attack on Hvinverjadalr, and sever the head of my beloved brother for his betrayal."
