#kynslod

helvitisbrokentoy 

“It’s not my fault I’m the biggest and the strongest. I don’t even exercise.” 

       ‘ you don’t have to be big and strong to win a fight, ’ he says with a small shrug. it never hurts to be big and strong, of course, for those are two things hákon relies on quite a lot with regard to himself– but there are alternatives, for those not blessed by the gods with size and strength. ‘ you can be little and know how to kill a man. that’s almost as good. but you do have to exercise either way, unfortunately. ’

     "Most men love think so, don’t they?” Though her voice carried a certain amount of SARCASM, it was still on the more teasing side rather than genuinely malicious. “Not every man will be sung about or go to Valhalla — but you would never know it, from the way they speak of themselves.” A small, CROOKED smile played at the corner of her lips, though she tried to avoid such a familiar gesture in front of this almost stranger. “They WOULDN’T sing of me, I think. I’ve yet to do anything song-worthy. I’m no fierce SHIELDMAIDEN,” Much to her father’s displeasure, that was, “Nor do I have any heroic children who would carry my name across the lands. Not all of us are meant to leave our mark on HISTORY, I imagine.”

[ @kynslod saga continued from x ] 

        ‘ what? ’

a pause, and hákon is taken aback. there’s a moment or two until a smile slowly starts to spread across his face, when he figures out what it is she’s saying. all that begging and pleading, trying his hardest to win her over so that she might finally let him fight in the shield wall– it’s all paid off. she’s finally going to let him be part of what he’s been so desperate to for the last two years.

he almost hugs her. moves to and everything, but seems to suddenly remember that he is most definitely a man now, and that would be a very boy-like thing to do. but he grins, widely, as if nothing has ever made him happier.

             ‘ thank you! thank you! i won’t, i won’t! i will be the best warrior you have ever seen, i swear it. ’

                   he’s been training hard. he has the bruises to account for each and every session that leaves him face down in the dirt because he forgot to guard his right flank. he’s been training alongside all of the others  —  alongside the warriors that’ll raid in the summers, and alongside all the smallfolk that wanted to learn how to defend themselves. they are a culture of warriors. and she may keep him close to her chest, and she may pretend as though he’s her son, but he isn’t. and he’s no longer a boy: the only way to get good at something is to practice. to step out into the battlefield and see for himself just what awaits in the raids.

she thinks he must be bored. sick of standing around while others head off in their ships for the summer, leaving him with only the other children to play with. he must be tired of watching everyone else have their chance at impressing the gods and having to sit back because she won’t allow him to get hurt that gravely. but now is his chance, which comes with the subtle be good and don’t do anything stupid.

it’s an actual scandal