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⠀⠀⠀what chatter resounds from the cliff
⠀⠀⠀side, wife, that I leave my ships, the
⠀⠀⠀snakes of the sea? nay, if the 𝙶𝙾𝙳𝚂
⠀⠀⠀but will it, the deed shall be done
⠀⠀⠀as I have planned it, unflinchingly!
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𝓗is axe rested against the wall, untouched for the first time in days. Ragnar stood barefoot on the grass outside the camp, his hands stained with soil, not blood. He was planting something—oddly gentle, oddly still.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝓨𝖤𝖭𝖭𝖤𝖥𝖤𝖱⠀ OF⠀ 𝓥𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖤𝖱𝖡𝖤𝖱𝖦
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Everything about her is ravishing.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And menacing. Those colours
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀of hers; that contrast of black
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and white. 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗬 & 𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘.
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𝓣he sea churned dark and cold beneath the longship’s prow, its waves licking at the carved dragon’s head like a beast trying to bite back. Ragnar stood at the bow, wind slicing through his braided hair, salt clinging to his skin. His blue eyes were locked on the distant ——
silhouette of foreign land—a land promised to be soft, rich, and undefended.
“Do you feel it?” he asked, not turning as he spoke. “That tightening in your chest? That sharp breath, like you’ve already tasted blood on your tongue? That is what it means to live, to hunt, to ——
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⠀⠀⠀⠀𝖉estiny had prearranged their path, safeguarding their discovery of the opposite. the gods had brought them together, saving them from the travesty that they lived within and bringing constant glory to accompany them. one meeting had been enough, a series of
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of course she knew him just as he knew her. they were one soul, intertwined way before they even knew each other. brought together by the gods, sewn together by fate. yes, aslaug knew him. “ hm ” she begins as she listens. “ almost too good to be true ” she adds as if »
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⠀⠀⠀⠀fragments that perfectly sink into place. coarse fingertips pull at grass, lips twisted in thought and those piercing sapphires loaded with contemplation. “it’s a trap.” a mere utterance. just the very idea has his skin boiling, aching with the ire set by saxon’s.
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⠀⠀coarse digits slither through sunlit
⠀⠀blonde tresses moments before a
⠀⠀sleeping ivar is lifted, cradled to
⠀⠀his chest. the edge of rugged lips
⠀⠀bloom with an endearing simper,
⠀⠀piercing hues floating to his wife.
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lips part as his own sweep at the edge of hers. a tease. she takes a sharp inhale before letting it go slowly and observes as ragnar walks over to ivar. “ ah ” is all she says while nodding. a gentle smile spreading upon her lips.
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⠀⠀long enough that he will be sick of
⠀⠀my handsome face.” playful is the
⠀⠀lilt of his voice, a grin soon taking
⠀⠀it’s rightful place upon rugged lips.
⠀⠀only now does he approach the
⠀⠀crib, peering into it at young ivar
⠀⠀who lays fast asleep.
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⠀⠀uncaring fingers riffle through the
⠀⠀remnants of aslaug’s dinner, a low
⠀⠀hum lasting in his throat as a horn
⠀⠀of ale is lifted. a generous sip fills
⠀⠀his mouth, a welcomed sensation.
⠀⠀piercing orbs remain watching his
⠀⠀wife. "he'll have me for
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aslaug closed her eyes , lips parting as she releases a soft exhale. such simple touches often ignited the fire within them both. it matter not where they were or who was present. ‘‘twas their way , shame did not exist. the seeress lays her head upon his shoulder , »
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⠀⠀lips sweep the edge of her brims, a
⠀⠀purposeful tease as fingers trickle
⠀⠀over a smooth stomach. “i visited
⠀⠀floki.” heavy feet cross the wooden
⠀⠀floors, a youthful ivar soon tucked
⠀⠀between calloused palms and his
⠀⠀visage painted with kisses.
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the queen melts instantly into the arms of her husband. his familiar scent , warmth all bringing her comfort. hands so delicate rest against his own large , calloused one. albeit hers aren’t without its own callousness. “ where have you been ? ”