Northern Light

The sellsword halted for a moment to calm his breath and his racing heart, only now noticing how dry his throat was. His eyes caught the sight of some village ahead and for a second he hesitated. It was a risk both for him and the villagers should those men find them, but there was also a risk not being able to find his way back to King’s Landing and fail the queen and that was not something Osney wanted to do. He bit his lower lip from thinking, figuring out his priorities before deciding. Finally, he carefully looked around and moved ahead, wondering now why it was so quiet, almost lifeless here. Was it a trap? His hand gripped the tilt of his sword, though it was a pretty futile response before meeting his death but at least it was better to die in a fight. What he really didn’t expect was a child’s voice that startled him like nothing before, the knight even jumped from surprise. It wasn’t really the best place for a chat since it was too open but he did feel a relief seeing it was only a kid.

      "Don't be frightened," She grinned; a tease, but with a kind smile. 

      Gyda moved out from behind the haystack where she had hidden, feeling more confidant that she was doing the right thing; for this strange guest had not answered her properly. Perhaps he did not understand?

      "A Night?" Gyda pressed, "A 'Night' is a thing, not a person. And who is Hurgrase?"

      Perhaps she should have run to tell someone, instead. But her parents were gone West; as were most of the fighting men. Surely she would be in danger from a man who flinched at her voice? Yet, as she stopped to consider these inportant factors, she noticed how heavy he was breathing, how paranoid he appeared. 

gavefarmore & bjorn-sonofragnar

We definitely don’t have to rush anything in terms of when we rp! I’d be happy to write up a starter and you two can reply to it whenever you get around to it? I just wanted to ask while I had the idea still!

   [ gross sobbing ] 

When the cup was offered to him, he took it. Taking a drink, he grimaced and lowered it slightly, eyes narrowing at Gyda as it clicked into place. “You’re drunk,” he accused, hissing out the words so that their parents wouldn’t hear. After all, he should take care of her and try to keep her from trouble. “You’re drunk and you didn’t think to share with me!”

Bjorn was a man. Or, he wanted to be a man, and as such he couldn’t yeild to his sister. He had to remain strict in this. However, the drink was calling to him and he took another sip, eyes still narrowed as they studied Gyda.

And then she ran.

"Gyda!" he shouted, depositing the drink on some table or other as he took off after her, ready to wrestle her back to her seat. "Gyda, come back! You can’t just run off on your own!"

      "Drink," She urged more, in her own nervously giggled whisper. "It is good, yes? You taught me." She smiled. At least, he gave her her first beer, which counted. 

      "If I'd have known, you could have had all of mine."

      Perhaps it would have even done him some good. For she spied a grin on his face that she had not seen for the past few years, even since he got that silver band and became a man. 

      But it did not stop her running; as she saw he was not drunk enough to take back his orders to her. 

      Gyda rushed into the Kattegat night air, grinning as if they were playing some game. Her eyes darted wildly for a stable to hide herself behind, as she vanished behind the shadow of a small building. 

      Instead, Gyda held her cup to him. "You should drink." She had a big grin on her face, and such hope in her eyes, that it would change his mind.

      "I..." Gyda's eyes drew downward. She did not like that look he had, as if he could carve disapproval into her. Why could he not be like other brothers, and wish to play?

            "I won't." 

      Gyda almost ran in to the stranger as she left the Hall, and backed up quickly, having to grip at the sleeve of his tunic to save herself falling into the dirt. 

      She peered up, eyes finding him. But she was sure she did not know him, and quickly let go, with an apologetic smile that slowly turned into a nervous laughter. 

      Gyda shook her head, quick and adamant. 

      She had this. …Sort of. 

"Hmm já, but I imagine your uncle is a lot bigger than you. You see, alcohol has a different effect on everyone. Just… don’t drink too much. It could really hurt you.”

Looking around, Kiéran asked, “Is there a special occasion going on today that calls for a celebration like this? Was there a great victory?”

      Her eyes grew wide as he put his arms out to steady her, unsure of what he was doing. But then all fear was gone but a moment later. She was afraid he meant to lecture her, at first, but then he spoke of Rollo, and Gyda smiled. "He is. He is even bigger than you." She leaned up on tip toes, raising a hand above his head.

      It seemed his morale had been lost on her. 

      Gyda rushed around the man, her movements energetic, fueled by the drink, no doubt. She spun, nodding quickly to him, excitement clear in her eyes. 

      "There is," she urged. "The raiding party returned from-from the West. They fought many battles, and when they come home, everyone is happy." She was especially happy to have her Father home. 

      "My Fadir takes them to... England, and they always come home with strange treasure, and drink a lot--- lot of beer." Gyda grinned. 

      But it did not dissuade her, nor did his sighs, nor the look in his eye that would usually halt her still in her tracks. She was immune, tonight, for the first time --- and her brother was too serious. 

      "I am going outside. The room is spinning around and around---"

      Perhaps it had something to do with the way her body swayed, and eyes glossed, and smiles came easily to her lips, even to meet such a man, whom she had never seen before. 

      "This is Kattegat," Gyda smiled. "It is my home."

      Gyda suddenly put her arms upon his shoulders, where he knelt, uncharacteristically talkative. "It is the best place." She giggled eagerly. 

      Lucifer found the girl amusing, were humans this naive and ignorant this young? “Cannot? Now why not?” He smirked. 

      "Because the Gods will punish you," Gyda's eyes peered up, to meet his. She seemed ever so sure of this. Though there was a truer concern hidden within them. 

            "And also, it is cruel."

      Taking gentle steps to walk beside him, a brow quirked at the interest in the Priest that had become part of her family. She smiled, even, for she liked to talk of him, even his strange God. 

            Gyda did like stories. 

Never one to disappoint his daughter, Ragnar gathers her up into his arms as she extends her own for him to do so. He is tired and weary and in need of rest, but this is one thing he cannot deny her— certainly not after having not seen him for such a long time. 

    “Many battles,” he confirms with a nod. He makes sure that Gyda is secure before he makes his way out of the shallows, and he makes sure to tell her in great detail about all of the things he saw— perhaps embellishing ever so slightly for entertainment’s sake. "I tell you, Gyda, even they will be telling stories about us for a long while to come.” 

And he’s ever so pleased about that fact, proven enough by the sprawling grin upon his face. 

      "There are in the marketplace," Gyda told him, with a cheeky little grin playing upon her lips. "It was my turn to run and see you home." She urged. Last time, Bjorn had beaten her. Most of the times, Bjorn beat her. This time, though? She was happy with her minor victory. 

      Leaning in close to her father's shoulder, she whispered. "I think they are buying you something special, Fadir." And nudged at him gently with her nose. "You must act surprised." Her words were a plea, large round eyes blinking at him. 

      As they walked into the village, amid an excited crowd, Gyda settled herself in his hold, thankful for those embracing arms once more.