Watching the trilogy of How To Train Your Dragon for the nth time since it first got out, again sobbing for the nth time at the second movie, and I am starting to mix two hyperfixations that shouldn't mix. Like... viking crossover. Anyone. Hear me out. Vikings x HTTYD? Some kind of House of the Dragon but with our Ragnarssons? Floki is definitely like Valka? Please, does anyone see the vision, or am I just mad in the head?
PRIVATE ROLEPLAY: DO NOT REBLOG IF YOU ARE NOT MY PARTNER.
@crazedvikings
╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧
Sieges take days to give a semblance of order to them, even with experienced warriors like the Unsullied. All the while, the city and those within, know what is happening. Supply lines slow, then stop. Guards on the parapets talk, spread rumors and panic. When the Dothraki joined the encampment, some people began slipping out of the city - a few here and there, some families, some soldiers, all afraid of the ‘savages’, of the ‘dragon queen’, but they are given food and shelter at the rear of the encampment. Daenerys arrived with her dragons in the second week to learn that close to 20,000 refugees had fled the capitol.
That evening, another 500 slipped out of the city and in the morning, Daenerys decided to fly Drogon high over the Keep, getting a sense of where the strongest defenses were staged. Her mind was on tactics and as Drogon began banking towards the harbor, out of the corner of her eye, Daenerys saw an odd flash of green that billowed and swelled. Her dragon swiveled, his massive wings buffeting against the wind as he fought to rise higher quickly, but the blast hit like a wall of stone, and as he rolled in the air, his dazed rider lost her grip, tumbling to the water. Luckily, her Ironborn pulled her out and she woke a day later in her tent.
Within a week’s time, a makeshift harbor had been set up and Daenerys was back on her feet, more or less. From her large command tent which also served as her personal quarters, Dany directed the efforts and it was there that Missandei told her of travelers who had arrived by ship. The leader wished to meet with her and, at Daenerys acceptance, her scribe went to the opening, directing him inside. “Your Grace, may I present Ivar Ragnarsson,” Missandei translated back to the man, standing ready to act as interpreter. “I present to you, Her Grace, Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, good sir.”
So this is part 2 of my submission to @waiting4inspiration ‘s 2k follower challenge. In case you missed part 1
Warnings- implied nudity, language, I think that’s it. That good good (smut/lemon) is in part 3 tho so heads up.
Part 2
You got up and stretched before you took off your dragon armor and dragon wool outer layers and lounged around your home away from home and made yourself something to eat before you got into bed in just your dragon silk under layers, what essentially looked like a tank top and leggings and got into your own bed and read from your ‘journal’ all the “history” you’d be changing if things went according to plan as the fire in your shelter stayed ever burning, keeping things comfortable which lulled you into sleep too before long.
You woke up only moments before Bjorn did and barely had your dragon wool outer layers on by the time he opened his eyes.
“Am I in Valhalla?” He asked as he looked around, this..didn’t look like Valhalla. Although he wasn’t in nearly as much pain as his mind told him he should be in, so maybe…
“No,” you shook your head no as you continued getting dressed and put your armor on over your wool layers because you didn’t trust him to not harm you yet. The way any wounded animal bites.
“What is that?” He questioned as he gestured to what you were wearing.
“It’s my armor.” You answered as you fastined it and ran your hands over it.
“What’s it made out of?” He asked as he eyed it’s texture.
“Dragon scales.” you beamed proudly.
“What?” He shook his head in confusion.
“I’m a Valkyrie from Asgard remember? Well, more specifically Neveah. Dragons still fly free there, they’ve died out here a long time ago. At home we’ve also domesticated them. Dragons are like…big scaley horses as far as temperament goes. When dragons shed their scales so that they can grow new, bigger ones, we collect them and make armor out of them. When they do, they reveal the dragon’s down, the way a duck or goose has down, like a soft fuzzy hair under each scale. However for some breeds of dragon, we’ve bred them so that the downy hair grows more abundantly instead of the scales, it grows like sheep’s wool, mare dragons, their down is much finer than a stud dragon’s is, mares grow what’s called dragon silk, stud dragon’s down is much thicker and it’s a bit rougher, they grow dragon’s wool. It’s really hard to dye to make different colors, ten times longer than it takes anything else to dye but once it dyes, the color never fades, ever. It’s also super durable while being breathable and depending on how you weave it, it can take the sweat off of you while not letting you get wet like if you’re out in the rain and it’s a bit stretchy. But it’s so tough that only dragon’s teeth can cut it decently well, Thankfully dragons regrow their teeth every shed and then once they reach full size, they regrow a new set every ten years or so. Baby dragons’ teeth, we use those for needles, medium teeth, perfect for small knives and scissors, the larger teeth, swords.” You explained as you pointed to the different layers of clothes you were wearing to show the differences in fabrics as Bjorn reached out to feel the fabric before you gestured to your dragon toothed sword on your hip before you handed him your dragon tooth knife to look at. It looked like rainbow titanium. It was always important to mix the truth in with the lies so that the whole was more believable because the truth was, back at home in the future medical science brought back dragons, all the varieties in ancient lore but with a twist of being domesticated. And you were really from an island nation called Neveah.
“You really are a Valkyrie.” He breathed in awe before he handed the blade back to you.
“Well on this plane I am, back home I’m a Dragoner.” You smiled proudly as you put the knife back in its place, and that was true, you and your whole family were Dragoners. Some of the best in Neveah.
“Are you hungry?” you asked thoughtfully. As you got another pillow and helped him sit up in bed a bit better and more comfortably.
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“Ok, let me make you the dagmal then.” You offered as you began to make some breakfast for you both. You made him griddle cakes with berries in the batter, drizzled with honey and some ham and sausages, scrambled eggs along with making him a fresh loaf of bread from your breadseed.
Breadseed was something special that grew only in the poles in your time, it was discovered when some of the ice caps melted and looked like super large milo plants when it grew in the dead of winter, sunlight tended to burn the leaves of the plant so it only grew in the light of the moon and from the northern lights when the temperatures were consistently -50°. Because anything above zero, the plant wilted and turned to mush, but when picked when you harvested the seeds and very carefully and very slowly brought it up to room temperature while you dehydrated it, they were fine, they made a delightful tea when steeped in hot water and was world renowned for its superb and surprisingly sweet and fruity flavor and longevity benefits. A handful of breadseed seeds looked like bronzer pearls, the more pearlescent the seed, the sweeter it was and came in varieties and flavors that most would recognize as bread and cake flavors. How the breadseed itself worked was you took a kernel which had a waterproof husk and once that was peeled away right before consuming since the husk kept it fresh, you put it into water, it expanded exponentially and grew very hot, baking itself and became something that mimicked and perfectly resembled a new loaf of bread and had all the health benefits that bread had and then some including added vitimins and minerals that were easy for everyone to digest, the loaves were the size of a soccer ball with a pocket, the size of your fist, on the inside in the middle, where still more breadseeds lined it. A handful of breadseed could feed an army. Back home they were international currency, but here and now they were just plain food.
You took the round loaf and split it, one half was two thirds of the loaf and the other was about a third of the size of the whole, you didn’t need to eat a lot, this poor man hasn’t had a good meal in a very long time, he would appreciate the larger half but the action helped you to get at the pocket in the middle and scooped the breadseeds out and added them to your breadseed pouch before you went back to Bjorn and served him his breakfast or simply, his day meal which is what the dagmal was to him- in bed. Using the little table you had attached to the bed to set everything on so he didn’t have to balance it all in his lap.
“Here you go.” You offered before you got him a large cup of buttermilk. Vikings liked buttermilk to drink for their day meal. Or so you’ve read.
“Why are you doing all of this for me? There were others there that deserve this more than I do.” He asked as he looked at all the food and hesitated in eating it.
“Odin has a path for you, I’m here to help you find it, walk in it and follow it. Once you do, I’ll be gone as quickly as I came, because by then, you won’t need me or my guidance.“ You informed him.
“What is the path?” He asked as he slowly started to eat.
“I’m not allowed to tell you, because if I do, it won’t happen. But you’ll know it when it’s in front of you.” You gently urged before you gave him a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder with a gentle smile before you left back into the kitchen area of your tent as Bjorn thought over your words and brought your food over to the little table and one of the chairs and ate yourself, drinking your freshly squeezed orange juice and bacon and omelet with pancakes and sausage as you low key looked at him out of the corner of your eye and noticed how he suddenly seemed to try to eat everything all at once.
“This is so good,” he praised between bulging mouthfuls.
“Thank you.” You smiled proudly.
“So what’s your name Valkyrie?” He asked curiously.
“What would you like to call me?” You returned, knowing he’d probably like you better with a norse name rather than your own.
“Astrid.” Bjorn decided since you were still, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life and that name suited you perfectly.
“Astrid it is.” You smiled back.
After he ate, he fell back asleep and once he was out, you took away the dishes and put them in the sink before the automatic washer washed them for you before you pulled up his biometric readouts from him into the simulation model and were pleasantly surprised when he was healing at a much higher rate than estimated before you recalibrated your algorithms to get a better and more accurate prediction for when he would heal. He should be out for the next…2 hours or so. Plenty of time for you to get a bath because your deodorant was dying and you could use one since back on Neveah, you bathed twice a day. Once in the morning to be clean for the day and then again at night, usually a bath to relax and unwind before bed.
You got undressed and went into the bathroom section of your tent where a large tub was already full of swirling hot water and you undressed and stepped into the water and blew out a breath of relief as you stepped into the hot water and sat down before a tray lifted from the side, showing you a bath bomb and a vile of bath oil.
You happily took it and dropped the bathbomb in before you smelled the bath oil. Ooh, jasmine with hints of lilac and gardenia. Hell yeah, you poured it in before you took off your face mask that morphs your face to appear however you wanted it to look and took it off and put it on it’s holder before you took the headband off that made your hair take on the long blonde hair Vikings loved and revealed your blue razzberry blue hair in it’s ponytail and pulled your hair down before you took the universal translator out of your ears and the projected screen in front of your face so that to everyone looking on, your face moved with your ranslated words and set them down on the tray and blew out a breath of relief and flexed your face as you rubbed your eyes before you slipped under the water and relaxed for a moment before the inside of the bathtub lit up and alerted you Bjorn woke up early which had you coming up out of the water to hurriedly put on your disguise again before Bjorn hobbled into the room and you ducked back into the water to press the hatch at the bottom of the tub to release an emergency bathing suit which you quickly put on under the water before you emerged because you were running out of breath.
“Bjorn?” You said as you wiped the water off your face and looked at him questioningly. “You should be in bed, do you need something?” You asked as you moved to be closer to him.
“A…bath.” Bjorn offered as his mouth went dry because your bathing suit was strapless and it appeared that you were naked because the waters were milky white from the dissolved bath bomb.
“Oh, uh, sure, yeah,” you nodded in agreement and stood up and noticed the small pout he made when it was revealed that you were not naked and stepped out of the water to help him out of all of his clothes except for his underwear before you helped him into the water before you handed him a bar of soap, a washcloth and a comb.
“You could join me.” Bjorn suggested sheepishly.
“Only if you swear not to touch me.” You returned a little warily.
“On my honor.” He immediately agreed before you joined him but sat across from him in the large tub and watched as he lathered the soap and began to clean himself up.
“So how did you become a Valkyrie?” He asked.
“I was recruited and trained like any soldier.” You answered simply.
“So do you have a family back on Asgard?” He questioned.
“I do. I have my parents and a sister and two brothers.” You revealed.
“Is your sister a Valkyrie too?” He prodded, trying to get to know you.
“No, she cares for the bloodlines of the family dragons as well as helping them lay successful clutches of eggs. My brothers handle the training of the dragons so they can take riders when they’re juveniles while my grandparents mainly care for all the grandchildren of the family and the baby dragons. My mother makes jewelry out of the shed scales of the babies as they grow while my father builds armor as do my brothers when they’re not training. That armor that I wear, my father built it just for me and it has never failed me.” You revealed with a fond smile.
“Do you have a husband and children of your own?” Bjorn asked.
“No, as a Valkyrie, I’m not allowed to have a husband or birth any children unless I retire first and I’m nowhere near retirement age.” You answered.
“Do you want them?” He posed.
“I’m sure I will eventually. But not at the moment.” You shook your head no.
“What about you? Do you have a family back home that you’re anxious to return to?” You asked curiously as you tilted your head to the side.
“I have a sister and her family are back in Kattegat. I haven’t seen her in a year, everyone else is dead.” He answered. “I was hoping to gain a fortune on this raid but so far there hasn’t been much to gain.” Bjorn explained.
“The places you raid are learning and adapting to you and your tactics and word spreads faster than wildfire.” You surmised as Bjorn found himself nodding in agreement to that. “It means in order to get what you want, you may have to change your tactics.” You hinted which caused you to grin. “By the way, moving forward. There are rules for keeping my company. First, I am your guide to your path so that means when I give you advice, it would be best if you followed it because my purpose in giving it to begin with, is keeping you alive and keeping you safe but if you grow reckless, and abuse my help and support, I’ll call in a replacement and she will not be nearly as nice or as pretty as I am or worse yet, I’ll go back in time and leave you to die the way I found you. I’m as good as it gets. Second. I am not your slave, or thrall as you would call it or anything like that. You don’t boss me around. Third, this is as close as we get. I don’t mind being your friend on your journey, but anything more than that, especially anything romantic is out of the question and if you even hint at anything like that, I’m out and I’ll be replaced. Fourth, anyone who touches me without my consent, they loose their hands, including you. You can walk on your path with just one hand. Understood?” You proposed as you leveled him with a look.
“Understood.” Bjorn nodded with a gulp.
“Let’s shake on it.” You suggested before you shook hands with him as your materializer made him new clothes and armour.
After that the conversation flowed much easier and you both got a better sense of who the other person was in terms of character until the water grew cold and you decided to get out.
“Here, new clothes for you.” You said as you handed him the freshly made clothes made out a blend of dragon silk and dragon wool with dragon silk boxers which he had to get changed into himself.
“This is really nice.” Bjorn said as he felt the fabric, nothing he had ever put on his skin had ever felt this good before.
“Now, when you’re all healed up, I have new armor for you. It’s not dragon scale like mine, because giving you dragon scale is forbidden by The Code, but it’s the toughest thing in this world. Way down south of here, in a place called Africa, is a large lizard that they call the crocodile, it’s large enough that it can kill and eat people. This is it’s hide. It’ll stop most weapons. It’s the best I can give you.” You offered as you showed him his suit of armor.
Getting him travel ready only took you four days rather than the seven you thought it would at first because he took the serums you injected into him better than anticipated and continued to make improvements and he surprised you every day by how well he was able to progress. This mission may take less time than you anticipated.
Once he was ready, you set up a neural link between both of you, that way you could keep communicating without talking which would come in handy if you were in a form other than human and transformed back into a horse, your tent changing in appearance to that of a normal tent of the time period from the outside and you were able to make it so that Bjorn could easily set it up and take it down before he put it on your saddle and rode you back to the camp where some of the survivors were and still nursing their own wounds and regrouping.
“What happened to you?” They asked Bjorn.
“I got caught in this horse’s reins and it dragged me north, I was able to tame it a little since she’s still green broke and half wild but obviously I was able to bring her back.” Bjorn answered since that was the answer both of you had agreed upon would be the most believable as he got off of you and lead you towards the rest of camp.
“What are you wearing?” They asked as they eyed what he was wearing now.
“Oh, this is what the dead fucker that was tied to her saddle was wearing, once I got him off of her and got her settled down, I saw that it was still good, I tried it on and it fit and it was better than what I was wearing.” Bjorn shrugged. “I think he was deserting the fight because she was packed with a tent and a bedroll and food.” He explained as he gestured to everything on your saddle.
“Serves him right, filthy coward.” his surviving friends sneered but beamed proudly at Bjorn as they eyed you appreciatively as the shield maidens who had survived came over to you curiously as you greeted them sweetly and endeared yourself to them.
Getting Bjorn and the others back home to Kettegat was more arduous than you expected but you and Bjorn grew closer as friends along the way, only appearing in your human form when you were alone with him, otherwise you were a horse and because of your senses and abilities you were always the first to alert the group of wolves and bears and even other people before you joined back up with another raiding party and traveled back home to Kettegat.
“I think the answer is that a circle has no beginning.”
Angrboða Flokisdottir || Luna Lovegood
So I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for quite a while now about a rather complicated crossover, and this idea of Luna as a reincarnation of Angrboda is directly related to that. The more I thought about it, the more I liked it, and this is the direct result. If anybody has any questions, comments or suggestions, feel free to drop me a message or jump in my ask box! This was super fun to make! :)
[No images are mine, though the edit is. The title quote is Luna’s from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows]
Fandom: Vikings x Reign
Pairing: Ivar The Boneless x Queen Mary Stuart x Hvitserk Ragnarsson
Words: 2006
Summary: Whit the support of her brother Mary isn’t closer to making a decision. But when she meets Hvitserk late at night he sheds some light to the situation, giving her the strength to go and talk to Ivar who is still captured. Hearing his demands she knows a sacrifice needs to be made.
Even this late at night Mary couldn’t lay her thoughts to sleep. After countless hours and many talks she didn’t had a clean answer to her question; should she accept the offer of that cripple bastard down in her cells. Her nails dug into her own lips, gazing over the papers laid out on her desk when a knock on the door woke her up out of her thinking.
‘James.’ She smiled, seeing her brother standing in the door way. He bow and walked in, gazing his eyes over the papers that laid in front of her. Maps, military information.
‘You are considering it?’ He guessed. Mary took a deep breath and rested her head lightly on her fingertips, gazing into the fire for a moment.
‘I’m considering an attack on England every day. This is no different.’ She stated, looking up to him. James was a bad lair, an open book, she knew his angle on this from the moment those pagans walked through her front door. ‘But you have a different opinion.’ She guessed the firm expression on his face.
‘I don’t think it is a good idea to let that pagan run free in the castle.’ James worried. Mary removed her head from her hand and stood up. She gave Hvitserk the change, not to escape, but to find a level of trustworthy.
‘He can’t do much.’
‘He can signal outposts.’ James pointed out.
‘Then I have one more reason to kill them. They have proven to be on our side, you saw the village,’
‘They killed our people without our permission. Yes they were traitors but it isn’t their call to make.’ He interrupted her desperately. ‘Why are you willing on making demands with those pagans?’ He asked. Mary walked around her desk towards her brother and took his hands between hers.
‘If they are willing on fighting alongside of us we are a little stronger. I’m not thinking about myself, I’m thinking about the people of Scotland.’ She explained with a kind reassuring voice. James smiled, looking down to their hands while rubbing his thumb along her skin.
‘This will not go without sacrifices.’
‘Ruling never does.’ She smiled weak. James laid his hand against her cheek, looking in the strength radiating from her eyes.
‘Then let me support you in this.’ He smiled. She grabbed his elbow, smiling thankfully.
‘Thank you brother.’ The relief of those words made her weak inside. She felt like a burden heavies from her body as he pressed a kiss on her forehead and leaved her room again. Despite she acted like a strong queen, Mary was as much a young woman as the others around her, for that she had doubts, wishes, for that she could make wrong decisions or fall for the wrong people. But James backing her up was one step closer to the queen she had to be.
Just as she wanted to step into bed her eye got caught by the dark figure standing in the yard, looking over a field of wild flowers. Mary walked closer to the window, trying to see what he was doing other than just standing there. She wanted to be right about them, she wanted to trust them but nothing really did actually. She didn’t knew them or they way or living, their believes, they were just a legend, stories told by the old, by the enemy. Mary stood there for quite a time, studying his features in the dark before she dress in a little less revealing and walked out of her room.
‘Follow me.’ She commanded her guards. Outside her loose hair stroke on the soft wind while she walked around the castle towards the gardens. She nodded shortly to her guards who kept standing wait while she walked over the grass. Hvitserk must have heard her, he turned around.
‘Queen Mary.’ He bowed with that slight smile again. His voice was rather soft here outside, his expressions relaxed while studying her as she walked over. ‘Can’t sleep?’ He asked almost polite. Ivar was ruthless in every way, with Hvitserk she didn’t knew. He was charming, way to charming, like he could slick his way in on everything.
‘Have a lot on my mind these days.’ She answered him with a soft smile. Hvitserk nodded and Mary held still alongside of him, studying his face as he looked over that little field again. ‘Are your men not waiting for you?’ She asked after a little silence. Hvitserk looked aside, pulling up that grin.
‘They will know what has to be done when the time is right.’
‘What does that mean?’ Mary asked him right away. He chuckled, turning his body to face her, bowing so very slowly again.
‘That you have nothing to fear.’ He answered without looking away from her. She nodded, looking back over the wild flowers coloring the darkness of this night. ‘Aren’t you often lonely queen Mary?’ He asked after a little silence. She lifted her chin a little, still gazing to the flowers.
‘I try not to be.’ She answered honestly. Since she left France she was indeed often lonely, without a husband, without her close friends, the people she trusted. Scotland challenged her on many levels. ‘You?’
‘No, never lonely.’ He answered right away. Mary looked aside to him, trying to figure out what drove him to be like this.
‘I’m not sure what I need to think about you Hvitserk. Are you supposed to be as dangerous as your brother is?’ She asked her, confronting him with her own thoughts. Hvitserk laughed, throwing his head back while doing it. Mary studied the long difficult braid in his hair, the soft handsome features in his expressions, denying the urge to join him in that laugh.
‘Nobody can be as bad as Ivar is. You have nothing to fear about me Mary, the real treat is safely locked up.’ He pointed down. How could he say that about his own brother. Her expressions got more puzzled as she looked back to the flowers. ‘He defied a lord on English soil, that is why he turns to you, because Queen Elisabeth is hunting him down.’ He explained. He crouched down and Mary followed him with her eyes. The way his fingers stroke over a little flower before he plucked it.
‘And why would I trust him any more than she did?’ Mary asked him neutral voiced.
‘England killed our father, we took revenge on that, she didn’t liked it and now he is determent on raging war. The best way to do that is with the alliance of a land that can rule both countries.’ He stood up, offering her the flower. She looked down to it, when she slowly looked back up he had that charming smile again. Mary took the wild flower, fingers touching.
‘And what does he want for it?’ She asked. He held on to the flower and Mary looked down to their touching fingertips.
‘Ask him yourself queen Mary.’ He answered, releasing the flower for her. Mary looked up to him and the way he looked down to her. ‘Ivar is willing on killing, more then you are planning on doing. Take that Viking ruthless to your advance.’
‘You do not seem like a ruthless man Hvitserk.’ She noticed.
‘That is because you never saw me fight before.’ He whispered, stroking that one lost strand of hair out of the wind before bowing and walking away. Mary signed softly, looking to his leaving features in the dark. She looked down to the flower, twirling it between her fingers, guessing the many ways this could go.
Her mind drifted often away during breakfast, gazing out of the window while she remembered her conversation with Hvitserk. He showed up that morning, representing him to be at her service if she needed him, but Mary let him go under a long look and a smile from his side. When she was done eating she and her guards left for the cells, walking the cold stones stairs leading down. When she arrived before his cell her eyes immediately caught the blue of his eyes. He was lying on his back, throwing a stone he just caught between his fist. He smiled, looking to the stone in his still raised hand before he got up, dragging his two feet in front of him while the guards opened the cell.
‘Queen Mary.’ He said, cocking his head to the side while looking at her.
‘You sleep well?’ She asked him polite.
‘Better then you I imagine.’ He chuckled. Mary looked away for a moment, folding her hands before her stomach.
‘I heard stories about Vikings, when I was a child, the famous Ragnar sailing across the seas. He was your father, am I right?’
‘You talked to Hvitserk.’ He reacted. Mary slowly nodded, looking how he shifted his legs better before him. How could a man not being able to walk getting so much power, so much enemies? ‘What did he told you?’ Ivar asked curious, leaning back, ignoring her look to his legs.
‘How cruel you are, how much you desire to kill, the need to overpower England.’ She began, walking two steps closer. He squeezed his eyes a little together, smiling on the words she said. ‘You don’t have the desire to overpower me?’ She asked him slowly. Ivar rolled his jaw, resting his elbows on his knees to lean a little closer.
‘There is no overpowering a queen like you Mary. England is weak, I’m planning on making it weaker, the question is if you want to benefit out of a relationship.’ He pointed with the rock in his hands towards her, rolling it between his fingers as he sat straight again.
‘And what do you want in return?’ She asked him sharply. He looked down to the stone in his hand, grinning.
‘Didn’t you already figure that one out?’
‘You will not get my throne.’ She warned him calm, turning around to walk back out.
‘I will save your life Mary, believe it or not.’
‘I will take my life in my own hands,’ she hissed, turning around to him. ‘and I do not want to be bullied by you.’ She followed, walking out. She turned around and looked how the guards closed the gates.
‘I have an army, five hundred people and more, people you can use to your dispense in conquering England. You will rule over two countries, you will have all your heart’s desires.’ He sounded so smoothing and Mary stopped from walking away, looking through the gate back in the cell.
‘You don’t have a clue about my heart’s desires.’ She whispered. She remembered what James said to her the other night, that this wouldn’t come without sacrifices. Was this her sacrifice? Giving him her throne … or her hand?
‘Maybe not, but aren’t you gonna feel guilty, if all your men die with you knowing it could go differently?’ He asked her softly. Mary looked to the gate itself, repeating those words. She wasn’t a ruthless ruler like he was, she was a queen, a caring and good queen.
‘What did the world ever do to you to make you so cruel Ivar?’ She asked him, not demanding an answer really. It was just an observation.
‘People tend to misjudge me, see me as weak, as alone.’
‘You seem like a lonely person.’ She just stated, walking before his words stopped her again.
‘You seem like a lonely queen.’ She signed, turning back to him.
‘Give me one reason why I should trust you.’
‘You don’t have to trust me, just trust my rage.’ He smiled dark. Mary looked him in the eyes, somewhere seeing some truth between all the words.
‘Fine, show me your way of living and I will show you my hearts desires.’ She nodded, walking away without giving him a change to reply back on those words. The only thing she heard was his laugh dying away with every step she took further away from his cell. What was she doing?
@forrademinkonge
I love you.
Roan pushed the mun aside and glared at her, as he ran a distinct line through her words.
“What?” she pouted. “I wasn’t finished!”
“I don’t trust you.” Roan said flatly, and took place by the keyboard. “And jeez, you fucked up the headline.”
“I’m not sorry,” the mun muttered, but Roan was busy typing - he didn’t hear. or he didn’t care.
To Rollo, my brother.
I will treasure our adventures, our fights, your humour, us growing up together, always. One could not ask for a better sparring partner.
I wish you were here to help me sort this issue with Bard. Know that I trust you, even if you’re known to betray kings.
You’re too proud to ask for it, but should you ever need my hand in combat - know that I’ll have your back.
Stay away from snails, and please - don’t delete Frankia.
- Roan
Roan cast a sideways glance at his mun. “I know what you’re thinking,”
“What?” she sulked.
“I will not encourage him to delete Franika, just because you had a hard time learning french.”
“Pft, I’m sure he’ll relate!” she insisted, but Roan wouldn’t give in. She rolled her eyes. “Fine...”
“But at least tell him that Thorunn has some sort of secret crush on him, and that if he wants to find her, she’s...”
“Wait wait, stop - you know where Thorunn is?”
The mun lifted her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “Are you actually serious?”
“Yes?” Roan mimicked her actions.
“Well, of course I know where she is, you meat head.”
“I got this message from Bjørn, that we need to talk about...”
