#vilsevind

One would think he had gotten used to it by now, waking every single night from his deepes slumber to force himself out of bed accompanying the obsidian wolf which had already made clear he was not interested in going out alone at this hour. At least they were on their way back now, out of the cold back into the Keep’s safety — walking down one of the many corridors leading to the sleeping quarters. Even inside it was freezing, which the Watcher noted rather than his canine friend who wore his thick black fur. Not Hœnir.

Like always he had not bothred getting dressed fully, had barely managed to get pants and boots on his body in his drowsy state. At least the walk did not take needlessly long. As if Onyx too was eager to get back into the warm bed to hide underneath the sheets. At least the cold had woken the man properly, albeit his eyes still tired and white hair a mess.

The deserter kept her distance from the young man, still partially hidden away in the shadows of the Keep. She wasn’t supposed to be here, and would surely get executed if any other Watcher were to find her. Yet here she was. Standing before... him?

In one hand, she held her Greatsword; the massive and scarred blade resting now vigilantly on her shoulder. Whereas in the other, instead of the dagger that was usually paired with the sword, there was a faint silhouette of something fragile. Delicate. It wavered slightly in her grip, but whatever it was, it was soon quickly tucked behind her, under the cover of her cloak. Reina used that same hand to bring the worn scarlet cloth over her right shoulder to conceal that side of her body, in order to make herself take on a more reserved and suspicious appearance. “...are you alright, Watcher?” she asked, unmoving.

Ice-cold eyes stared sternly. Then a split second and wrapped-in-leather fingers reached forward and around the younger man’s throat; gripping tightly pressing into soft flesh obviously not even trying to be gentle. Lethal, if he would have used his other hand; iron talons of the gauntlet so sharp they would not dent but cut into the tissue; press holes and release red with the tesion keeping the Overseer’s arm upright — almost lifting the lightweight off the ground if only he would lift his arm and grab even harder.

It was unknown what got the taller male confronting enough to act than shrug it off or leave it at a simple warning; whether it was the bad itself the bard had committed now and so many times prior, this remorseless posture or those words spoken to him, mockingly thrown into his face with the voice he usually admired so much making him feel as though he too was none for the bard to care about. Hœnir had this job for a reason.

—and while he usually solved issues and arguments factual and calm, mostly, he did demand utmost respect towards his person. Which he was not given, he felt. So he had to make sure that he was respected with a grip tightening even further: prohibiting air to fill the bard’s lungs entirely.

His head turned at the approach / at the voice so familiar to him.

Focusing all his attention on the other man speaking, taking his time getting to the point, it was the last words causing his brows to furrow, as eyes slowly traveled to the boot in hands to examine the evidence before his gaze dropped even further as if he wanted to check where the other boot was.

“ Onyx… ? “

Voice low he replied; name of the wolf hushed almost. It was his stare at the bard’s feet which showed that he was thinking. While Hœnirwas surprised at the accusation, not having to deal with this sort of problem before— not even once — it was the first time ever he was confronted with his wolf committing this crime. Was it play or ill intention?Which made the tallest wonder, really, if others had not noticed or put the pieces together, or if perhaps they simply did not dare come tell him about it.

Realizing that the entire time all he did was stare at the bard’s bare feet his head rose again; eyes settling on those green ones with him obviously torn. Either way, Vilsevind would need boots. Especially if his canine companion really was to blame.

The soft kiss had been given with a pinch of impulsivity and another one of intention. As was typical of him, the young man did not usually have problems in showing his affection with this kind of tender actions.  Although he still felt a little nervous in his heart every time he decided to do something like that. Even more now, as he sense her menacing gaze pointing directly at himself. He could literally feel the dagger of Reina’s look so his face turned quickly to a bright red color like a tomato.

Maybe it had not been such a good idea to dare that much, he thought. If she decided to attack, and considering his own still developing skills, any attempt to defend or attack or even run would be futile. Well after all he had lived a good life. Finding himself about to say his last rites in mind, he could see the change in her face and in her words. An instant relief to his exaggeratedly accelerated heart.   “Oh, I’m sorry if I offended you. It was not bad intention, really! it’s just that i felt…”

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes slowly filling with new curiosity, and a smile formed on her lips. The sight of seeing the young man so flustered just by one look amused her. It was nice to not get a mocking laugh or another death glare in return for once. “No need to apologize, Watcher. For you have done no such harm. Although... what is that you felt?”

Moodboard for Overseer sama @moonsought​

Hope you like it*・°☆~

Or i’ll hang myself

sources: many!