#vredeir

standing  idle,     in  a  realm  far  different  than  infernal  heat,  she’s  quietly  behind  a  tree  watching  a  young  man  strike  down  men  with  shields  in  brute  force.   if  she’s  not  careful  with  the  fire  burning  within,  this  ‘safe’  distance  will  reveal  with  snow  melting  fast;  so  nerves  begin  to  calm,     breathing  comes  easier  with  each  passing  moment.      green  eyes  lose  their  enraged  colour  of  emblazoned  will,     flesh  repairs  the  cracks  that  dare  to  unleash  that     muspel  rage.      the  magick  bestowed  unto  this  woman  slows  to  a  dull  roar,       but  still  all  eyes  are  on  him.

snow  was  the  first  thing  she  saw  coming  out  the  gates  that  tyr  hid  so  well  for  so  many  lifetimes;       cold         this  was  the  first  time  she  felt  cold.        (  so  this  must  be  midgard,  where  the  warriors  pray  for  valhalla.  )      inner  voices  boom  within  her  head,  but  is  distracted  by  the  scream  of  a  raven.  the  woman  is  thrown  off,  loses  that  self  tempered  emotion  and  sends  fire  towards  the  bird  that  is  so  well  known  to  be  the  eyes  of  odin.    the  raven  was  the  third  object  witnessed  on  this  would  be        realm  of  mortals. 

          '   War has the power to change men.  '    They were an odd pair.    Each rooted in their polar traditions.     She carried Highgarden with her    ;    memories compressed into a fragrance    ,    leaving a diaphanous veil lingering wherever she went    ,    a hazy bouquet braided into the air.    Despite their predicament    ,    she would not abandon her   petalmaned   gardens    ,    even if  three of her senses were robbed    ,    she still held onto the smell of home    ,    in the embrace of lilacs and jasmines.    And he was much the same    ,    he would not abandon his snowgrey  KATTEGAT   ,    if anything    ,    he was as  hard   as its terrain    ,    violently blunt and wittily sharp    ,    like a mountain range with its acute angles and deep slopes    ---    stubbornly disobedient    ,    unpredictable    ,    𝙰𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙽𝙾  𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽  𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝙱𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙶.     He was the son of those great glacial lakes  ,  upon whose surface ancient stories travelled  ,  far enough to reach her.     Boreal.     Surreal.     Real.    '  I wonder what it will make of you and me.  '

@vredeir​ Sent:  ‘ burn the house down in search of yourself ’ for ubbe ➜  Accepting / Between you and these bones

     𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅. It’s hidden somewhere behind the eyes of a Father who’s long passed. The answers he he seeks are whispers on the wind, too soft for human ears to make any sense of. Ubbe moves with confidence and curiosity as his head turns to greet Ivar’s off putting advice. 

“   Are we searching for ourselves, or for the silver beneath the floor boards?” It’s a light jab at Ivar’s ruthlessness when it came to raiding new villages, ignoring the peace their Father had wanted. There was a temporary peace for now, negotiations were to be made; negotiations Ivar was unwilling to make. “  If you have found yourself, I pray that the Gods direct you to a new self and soon.”

❛ ———— CHRISTMAS TREATS ! ❜  @vredeir.

❝        ——    𝐍𝐎𝐖    ,   𝐘𝐎𝐔   𝐀𝐑𝐄    𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆    𝐌𝐘    𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒.        ❞        slowly    does    cynic's    smile    lilt    soft    corners    ,    beryl    hues   rising    from     cup's    brim     ,     sweeping     his     mien     like    tides    washing    over     until    glacial    stare    fastens.   oh   ,   he   is   cruel   ,   the    pungent    aroma    of    death's    slaughter    swathes    him    & engulfs    her    senses.     🇮​🇻​🇦​🇷​    🇹​🇭​🇪​    🇧​🇴​🇳​🇪​🇱​🇪 🇸​🇸​   is    a    man    to    be    feared​    ;    she   is    not    foolish    enough    to    say    brash    things    so    plainspokenly    ,   not    if    the    shield maiden    wishes   living    long    enough    to     die     a     𝚆𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙾𝚁’𝚂    𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷.     consequence    outweighs    risk.     murder   amongst   norseman   is   dishonorable.    𝑴𝑨𝒀    𝑻𝒀𝑹'𝑺    𝑺𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫    𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑫    𝑯𝑰𝑴    &    𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑲𝑬    𝑯𝑰𝑴    𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑵.

  @vredeir​