|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on May 30, 2019 20:21:02 GMT -5
*****Continued from another RP site this is not the beginning of the post*****
Azariah could feel the anger in Varmond, her eyes studied him slightly. Though she did not speak of it. She merely looked back ahead to the steep walls of the crevasse that would lead them back to the campsite. Azariah thought for a moment as he spoke of his lack of powers, as he spoke that he was not a Demi-god. Why would the goddess not allow him powers? What was her motive behind it. "We are all a part of the game that the gods play, puppets, if you will." The princess glanced to him with her silvery eyes for a long moment. "Odin has pulled upon my strings since I was a child, since before even I can remember. I have always been known as the gifted one. So I have always been held to such a standard." She gripped the beautiful horn of her saddle as she shook her head. "It seems you and I have a lot more in common than I thought." She smirked slightly before she fell silent. She tilted her head as he spoke of not wanting the eternal feast. Every viking from the north to the shores of Whitlock wanted to dine with the gods. But not her husband. Not this man that won the gauntlet to gain her hand. It was a curious thing, though she understood his reasoning, in a way. To be toyed with in such a way...it was painful, especially now.
When they returned to the camp Azariah climbed from her horse carefully, she glanced around to the people, some appeared to be tired, others ready to take on a battle in the night. She looked up to him as his fingertips grazed her cheek. The touch was gentle, caring even. "With the other women...?" She spoke and took in a breath. She wasn't used to sleeping among others. She was used to her private chambers in the great hall. "Of course. Do not let the kiss of Skadi freeze you." She trailed her fingertips along his back as she left his side. She could feel the eyes of a few of the men upon her as she walked toward the tent. No doubt they noticed the discoloration around her neck from Odin's tight hold upon her. Azariah stepped into the tent and glanced around to the women and children whom had made pallets for the night.
"Princess." Moira spoke, her voice was soft. She stepped forward and gave a gentle smile. "We've made a bed for..." She paused her eyes locked on Azariah's neck. The woman's breath skipped slightly.
Azariah placed her hand on her shoulder. "There is no need to worry." She spoke with a nod before she glanced to the empty pallet that was made for her. "I'm fine." She assured the woman. "Varmond didn't do this either, so do not think that."
"I..." Moira drew her brows together. "Oh...well..." She took in a breath. "You should rest, princess." She led her over to the pallet.
"Thank you." Azariah nodded to her before she knelt next to the bed. She removed her shield from her back and her sword from her hip. Though she kept her dagger upon her thigh. She carefully moved and sat upon the bed only to see that Moira was still at her side. "Are you alright?" She questioned curiously.
"Oh..." Moira gave a sheepish smile. "I...heard stories of you...of you in battle..." She sat down on the empty pallet next to Azariah. "Are they all true?"
The princess chuckled softly, "Only a few." She winked as she lay back on her own pallet. "Some, as with all tales are fiction." She muttered as she lay on her side facing the woman.
"Tell me one that is true." Moira asked, her eyes curious, she leaned forward slightly anticipating the story.
"hm well..." Azariah thought deeply for a long moment. "A few winters ago." She began as she rolled to her back. "My father and I, along with my...half witted brother...sailed across the great sea. It was a treacherous journey and Thor beat upon his hammer sending storms in our direction that nearly capsized the ships. We had received a threat from the Earl of Lundberg. Thus, we were reciprocating that threat by beginning at battle before they could launch an attack on us." Azariah paused as she remembered the night. "I still remember the lightening as it scattered across the skies that night as we floated into the bay. We were under the cover of night, as silent as a mountain lion stalking its prey. We slipped into the city and one by one we took out the guards. Before the city even knew it we were at the door of the Earl. He begged for forgiveness." She chuckled softly. "The fear in his eyes." She shook her head then. "My father lobbed his head off, right then and there for his treachery. For even stating that he would dare attack Whitlock. And my people call you savages." She chuckled again softly. "And so, my father rules over both cities...and he aims to rule over every city..." Azariah rolled onto her side to see that Moira had fallen asleep. She gave a gentle smile as she moved and tucked the furs in around the woman. "Rest well." She whispered before she tucked herself into her own pallet. Azariah closed her eyes and with an exhale sleep welcomed her exhausted body.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on May 30, 2019 20:57:17 GMT -5
Throughout the night Varmod kept watch with the other men. The surrounding area was quiet though as the snow continued to fall and seemed to dampen any sound the men produced. They, at the very least, didn't have to worry about their whispers carrying very far. Varmod positioned himself in the center of the camp to keep an eye on all directions and leaned against a stack of crates that had held some of their rations for the journey. While the others patrolled, conversed with each other, or slept Varmod thought about what all had happened that day. He thought about his reaction to each of the events and internally kicked himself for how he had reacted. He should have stood up to the King more, stood up to Odin, or been wise enough to not take her to the pass. So many mistakes and carelessness on his part. He couldn't afford to be careless. There were so many that depended on him and mistakes in judgment could be fatal. At least now though they were going home and to familiar grounds. It would allow him to recuperate and then think about how to proceed with the threat of war with Whitlock.
At some point in the night Varmod fell asleep sitting up against the crates. When he woke up at the sound of horse tack clinking together he glanced around with slightly confusion as he saw his people packing up their camp once more. He groaned and rubbed his cold face with his hands before standing up and pulling his cloak around himself more tightly. He ha grown to accustomed to sleeping indoors. He shivered slightly and went to stand next to the fire that still burned while he waited to warm his hands and legs. "Jarl.." he heard a quiet voice say behind him. When he turned he saw one of the women, Seren, standing and looking at him.
"Yes Seren." He told her and looked back to the fire. She was older, her children grown, and she had taken on a protective view of the other women when her husband had died during battle. An honorable death and the woman held the tribe's respect.
"The mark on Azariah's neck. Your doing?" She asked him.. Straight to the point. That's what Varmod liked about her. He didn't respond immediately and simply kept staring into the flames. Sure, he could say it wasn't him, but they wouldn't believe Odin had done it either. She was gifted by Odin, favored by the elder god, and there was no way in their eyes that he would harm Azariah in such a manner.
"If I told you no, would you believe me?" He finally asked without looking at her.
"You've never lied to me before. So I will believe you." She replied and stepped up next to Varmod while putting out her hands to welcome the warmth of the fire. "I hope that girl is worth the trouble she is going to cause us."
Varmod chuckled and looked at the woman with a sly grin. "You speak as if you didn't cause trouble when you were young, Seren. I've heard the stories."
The old woman scoffed and looked at him with an exasperated glance. "Regardless of what you've heard I never started a war."
"No, but we are familiar with war. It's in our blood." He replied.
"Mm, some more than others." She said in a tone that conveyed a warning. "Just keep an eye on that one. I'm not convinced of her loyalty." The woman wrapped her furs around her more tightly and hobbled off to help with the packing so that they could once again start their journey home.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on May 30, 2019 21:24:45 GMT -5
As the morning came so did the rustle of movement within the tent as well as around it. Azariah opened her eyes and let out a soft yawn. She rolled to her side to see that Moira had already rolled up her pallet and was tying it off. “What can I do to help?” Azariah asked softly.
Moira glanced to her a moment and offered a smile. “Any help is welcomed, just gather up the supplies and help pack them onto the wagons and horses.” She nodded as she stood with her pallet.
Azariah pulled her shield onto her back and fastened it over her chest before she clipped her sword around her waist once again. She stood and began packing things up. She rolled pallets and carried them out to the wagon. She helped to fold the furs and gather the food and other items. Soon enough she helped to break down the tent until one of the men stopped her with a warm smile. Azariah returned the smile and nodded to him as he took over the wooden beam of the tent and carried it away. She turned and her eyes fell upon Varmond whom was speaking to the older woman near the fire. She watched them closely for a moment and waited for the the woman to walk away before she approached. She grasped two wooden bowls and filled them with warm grits on her way. “Thank you.” She nodded to the maiden whom stirred the pot of thick white grains. She then stepped to Varmond’s side. “You should eat.” She spoke with a gentle smile. She offered him one of the bowls and then gazed up to his face. “Hm you got a bit of the cold, didn’t you?” She touched his cheek a moment with her warm hand before she sighed softly. “They think that you did this to me, hm?” She questioned, she could feel the gaze of a few eyes upon her as she pulled her cloak around her shoulders more to cast shadows over the deep bruising around her neck.
Azariah took a bite of her grits and fell silent then. “I told Moira you didn’t do it...” She glanced to him, “She seemed to believe me.” She took another bite and stared into the dwindling flicker of the flames. “Leaving behind everything that I know...” She pressed her lips together. “It isn’t easy, Varmond.” She spoke before she stepped from his side. She walked away and found Harbard whom she pat upon his shoulder. Azariah smiled as the horse offered her a bob of his head and he gnawed upon his bit in excitement for the adventure ahead of them. Azariah climbed upon his back and stared to the scenery around them. It was stunning. The jutting mountainside. The snow that blanketed over the land. She wondered just how far to the north Skajadol was. Her eyes glanced then back down the valley, back toward her home, toward Whitlock. She began to wonder how her father would retaliate. What could be expected? Would he aim to harm her as well? The questions were a never ending stream that bombarded her. The only thing that helped it to stop was when she looked about the camp and took in the laughter and the chatter of Varmond’s people. Even with what happened to them, they still carried on. Moira even didn’t seem to be hardened or distraught in the moments that she’d spoken with Azariah, even with what Otta had done to her. Azariah leaned forward slightly, her grip upon her horn tight as she looked back toward the mountains that she would soon come to call home.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on May 30, 2019 21:52:40 GMT -5
Varmod's smile only waned for a short moment as Seren left him and he saw Azariah stepped up beside him. When she handed him the grits he nodded his head in thanks as he took the bowl from her. "It's customary for the men to sleep outside during travels. The only time we would go inside is during a storm." He told her though his eyes fluttered a bit as he felt the warmth of her hand upon his cheek. He was quickly reminded of how warm and comfortable he had been back in their private chambers within Whitlock. As she spoke of her mark and defending his name by telling Moira that he had not been the one to harm he was very grateful. His people trusting him was a very important element to their survival.
"Hopefully you will find Skajadol to be a suitable home." He told her when she expressed her displeasure with leaving Whitlock behind. He sighed as he watched her walk away and then finished his grits before kicking snow and dirt over the fire to smother it out. Once the fire was out he went and helped pack up the last of the cooking supplies then found his horse an climbed up into the saddle. He then found Azariah and rode up next to her before turning to lead their people back home.
More snow had fallen by they were still able to make good time and kept up a good pace. "After a long while Varmod finally spoke up." It seems we'll be there a lot sooner than I had thought. Which is good because I'm not sure how long this weather will hold." He looked up to the still clear sky and found that it was unseasonably calm. Was Skadi being kind to them or was she waiting to pull a cruel joke? Either one was possible for the goddess. "So you said you spoke with Moira. She is a kind woman and would make a good friend to have." He was attempting more lighthearted conversation in order to pass the time.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on May 31, 2019 20:03:12 GMT -5
Azariah hoped that she would find Skajadol to her liking. Deep down she’d wanted to escape from the life of being the ‘gifted’ or being the ‘blessed one’. No matter what she did it always followed her. So, within the back of her mind, she hoped that this journey would be worth it...that Varmond would keep her safe from her father when the imminent war began. Her thoughts moved to the possibilities, would she be able to drive a blade through her father’s chest to protect those of Skajadol? Would she falter? She was bombarded with thoughts such as this as she sat upon her horse. It was only Varmond’s words that caused her eyes to move to him. A soft smile curved up her lips at the mentioning of the woman Moira. She was kind it seemed, it was a shame what Otta had done to her. “She certainly seems it.” Azariah responded, her voice was calm as she looked back ahead to the mountains. “Do you think it will remain this clear?” She questioned, it seemed that she too feared that Skadi would have it out for them. “I’ve heard that winter in the north is much harsher than that of the winter of Whitlock...” Her brows pulled together slightly. “I’ve heard of horrible blizzards where a hand before the face cannot even be seen...”
The princess brought her eyes to Varmond once again, “I do hope your hearth is at least as warm as mine.” She let out a soft chuckle. “Because, I am not accustomed to such frigid temperatures.” She looked back ahead her eyes played along the curves of the mountain as it jutted up toward the clear skies. Though in the distance she could see a bit of clouds forming, this troubled her to no end. Was that Skadi’s will, would her wrath descend down upon them? Would her wrath be because of Azariah? It seemed that the goddess was angry over Odin giving such powers to Azariah. Powers that she’d never asked for in the first place. She’d never asked to be gifted by Odin. Or...could it be Thor? The lightening and the pounding of his hammer. Azariah had been a witness to Thor’s rage. It was never something that one wanted to be in line of.
“What do you plan to do?” Azariah finally asked, breaking the silence. “When we arrive to Skajadol...we must make preparations. My father will not attack in the winter because it is too treacherous, the warriors of Whitlock are not accustomed to the cold such as your warriors. But the spring? He has plenty of time to plan and execute an attack...he may even employ other Jarls into his scheme...” She glanced to him with her silvery hues. “So...what is it that you plan to do to protect Skajadol and its people?” Her words were genuine and curious. “I could offer you the weaknesses of Whitlock. I know the entire city as if it were the back of my hand, I know each and every warrior. What they excel at, what they are weak at...to be honest, my father allowing you to take me without a fight could spell his demise. The knowledge that I have to offer is much more rich than the loads of silver he gave to Moira’s husband.” She let out a soft laugh. “And I can stop time, hm?” She smirked to him, “So how do you think we shall proceed dear husband? I am your wife after all, isn’t it my duty to support you?” Her voice was almost challenging as she watched him closely. Was she taunting him? In that moment it could be questioned either way.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on May 31, 2019 21:40:11 GMT -5
Varmod gave a small smile when she mentioned his hearth. "Yes, the winters are far more harsh in Skajadol than Whitlock, but that just means we know how to safe guard against the ice and winds even better. I think you'll find you're very comfortable living there.. with me." He added the second part as an after thought. He was still getting accustomed to the idea of having a wife. Someone he had to provide for other than himself. He glanced at her and smirked once more. He would also have company on the nights or days that were to cold to venture outside instead of sitting in silent isolation.
When she brought up the coming conflict and what he planned to do about it his smile faded as he adjusted in his saddle. He cleared his throat as he thought about his answer. "I do not wish to exploit your knowledge of the Whitlock's warriors. It doesn't allow us to have an honest fight when we engage, and I hope to reach peaceful terms before a full scale war can break out." He paused. "Skajadol may be known for our blood thirst and battle prowess, but believe it or not I always sent an emissary for diplomatic solutions first." He gave a small sigh. "No one wants to make an alliance with savages." He flashed a halfhearted smile and then looked forward once more. "Then, after they refuse, we give them just what they asked for. A bloodbath." He seemed somber once more and kicked his horse into a trot and turned to head towards the back of the group to make his normal rounds of ensuring that everything was still going smoothly.
A couple weeks later they finally reached the town of Skajadol. Nestled against the base of a mountain the city was not near as large as Whitlock but still held an impressive population for the harsh conditions. As Varmod lead their party into the town the people there greeted him with warm smiles as they huddled from the cold. Skadi had unleashed her fury before they could make it back, but they had managed to navigate through the storm as they had reached familiar lands before the storm had fallen over them. Family members and friends greeted their kinsmen as the rest of the people entered the town and started the task of unpacking their belongings.
"This way." Varmod told Azariah as he continued towards the center of Skajadol where he resided within the main hall. It was a building made of bone, wood, clay and straw. The denser materials kept the warmth within the closed doors and when they entered, after handing off their horses to a stable hand, Varmod found the hearth had been lit already and warmth greeted him as he walked into his home. The furniture was made of a dark wood, furs lined the walls to showcase Varmod's successful hunts, his bed was also covered in furs to keep warm while they slept and there was even a meal set out on the table of nuts, dried meat, and wine. "Make yourself at home." He told her. "What's mine is yours."
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on May 31, 2019 22:11:07 GMT -5
Azariah was quiet as she listened to Varmond. He didn’t want information from her, in fact he would rather resolve the conflict. As ‘savages’ she didn’t really expect this response. She expected him to jump at anything she could have handed him. It caused a slight smile to turn up her lips, the more time she spent with him, the more he seemed to not be the man that she’d thought him to be.
Over the next few weeks Azariah helped with putting up the tents and packing things away. She even helped cook a few times. Moira and Azariah had bonded, they spoke every night to torchlight as they drifted off to sleep. Speaking of old stories and fables of the gods. It eased Azariah’s mind and it seemed the further they drew away from Whitlock the princess relaxed. The thoughts of her gift seemed to sit in the back of her mind. Odin hadn’t visited her since the night he’d nearly strangled her before Skadi. However Skadi’s storm was something to be reckoned with. Azariah had used her abilities to turn back the time on frostbitten limbs of several of the men and women from traveling through the blizzards. They praised her for such a feat. Azariah had gained trust amongst some of the men and women over the few weeks. Though not everyone believed her to be a true comrade of those of Skajadol.
As they approached the town Azariah glanced about looking to the men, women, and children that welcomed their kin back from the long journey through the blizzard. Azariah shivered to the cold of the icy grip that Skadi had placed around her body. It seemed that the further north they traveled, the worse the storms had gotten, and the colder it had become. As they entered Varmond’s home the warmth encompassed Azariah. She drew in a breath of the welcomed hot air. She could melt to the floor it felt as though she’d been turned to ice. She smiled softly as she stepped forward. “What’s yours is mine, hm?” She looked to Varmond and nodded. “I suppose if I had anything I would say the same.” She spoke as she stepped to the table. She poured a glass of wine. It was a flavorful red wine that felt warm as it slipped down her throat with notes of cherries and nutmeg. She sighed happily to the flavor. “I may just like Skajadol yet.” She winked to him before she popped a piece of bread into her mouth. She stepped over to the hearth and held her hands out, warming herself a moment, her hands felt brittle from the cold.
Azariah carefully slipped her shield from her shoulder and leaned it against the wall before she removed her sword from her hips. She hung the belt over the top of the shield, ready for battle whenever that may come. She then stepped back to Varmond and she nodded to him. “You must be exhausted.” She spoke as she searched his eyes, “I’ve barely slept, I can only imagine what little sleep you’ve gotten.” She slipped her cloak from her shoulders and hung it over a metal hook. Her thumb traced over the intricate silver button that held her family seal upon it. Her eyes softened as she froze there a moment. It was still painful to think that she’d left everything behind, even if it wasn’t entirely her choice. It was still difficult. She turned to Varmond then and she stepped to him. “May I?” She asked as she reached up and unclasped his cloak. Her fingers worked slowly as they thawed from the cold. “Your people were pleased in your return.” She brushed her fingertips over his cheek before she fully unclasped his cloak. Azariah carried it over to the hook that she’d hung hers upon, once again she stared to her family crest a moment before she returned to his side. Azariah lifted a piece of dried meat and tossed it into her mouth carefully. She glanced to him a moment before she sipped her wine. “I’ve not heard from Odin since that night.” She spoke her voice nearly a whisper. “Do you think that he regrets gifting me? He has not taken my powers away...” She shook her head slightly. “Skadi certainly does not appear to be pleased with anything at all...” She listened to the rush of the wind outside. “I have never seen a winter like this...is this normal of the north?” She looked to him for the answer, she could only hope it was normal in some way. She could hope that Skadi was not displeased with her or with Varmond. Having the wrath of the gods against them would not put the war in their favor.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 1, 2019 0:51:03 GMT -5
Varmod had glanced around at his belongings and re-familiarized himself with where he had placed certain objects and while Azariah warmed herself by the fire Varmod walked to the table and poured his own glass. He wasn't paying much attention when Azariah approached him to help remove his cloak and he tenses slightly as he caught sight of her hands reaching towards him. Though as he felt her fingers touch his cheek he relaxed once more. He was still getting used to her presence it seemed. It wasn't as if they had a lot of time together during the travel where they weren't accompanied with several others. They had even slept apart most of the trip, except for when the men shared the tent with the women during particularly bad nights.
When Azariah expressed her concern with the gods' feeling towards them he scoffed. "I wouldn't worry to much with what the gods think. I know Skadi is always upset at something, whether its me or someone else that did something. I've only seen here in good moods for a very short time." He tightened his grip on his glass for a brief moment at that thought and then sighed as he pulled a chair out from the table and sat down adjacent to the food. "This is a normal winter here. It's not unusual to be trapped indoors for a while. Don't worry though. There are plenty of food stores in order to sustain the entire city."
He picked up a bit of dried meat and bit off a piece as he looked into the fire for a moment before shifting his focus back to Azariah. "In the morning, regardless of weather, I'll need to patrol the city and check on things. You're more than welcome to accompany me if you want a tour and to meet those that you have not yet." He knew he probably shouldn't brush off her concern with the gods so easily, but if he fed into her fears then they would only get worse. Besides, he had already resigned himself to protecting her if Odin should try and lay another finger on her. Her gift may have been bestowed by the god but she was his wife and he wouldn't let anyone treat her in such a poor manner, even if it killed him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 1, 2019 10:45:47 GMT -5
Azariah had noticed Varmond’s tense muscles, her brows raised slightly. They still did not know each other well. Even with the weeks of travel that they had made, it was spent apart. The person that knew her the best from the trip was Moira, all their late night conversations and dreams expressed to each other. It was just idle banter, but someone for Azariah to talk to. “It’s interesting that Skadi holds such a grudge against her own son.” She noted with a raised brow as she sipped upon her wine. Even with how her father treated her as an object, a trophy for trading, he was not nearly as harsh as Skadi seemed to be. But then again, her father was not a god. Perhaps that was the cause to Skadi’s cold nature? The gods did not fully understand human emotion, how could they? They were above it all living within Valhalla and feasting with the great warriors of the past.
His lack of concern with the gods worried her though. If he had a lack of care of what the gods thought, what else did he lack in? Faith to the gods was something that grounded Azariah. She’d always believed in the gods and followed to their wills, even if sometimes she pushed back slightly and she didn’t fully understand the will. Azariah would always listen to Odin’s wills, she always noticed his ravens or even the eyes of a wolf in the forest watching over her. She ran her fingertip along the lip of her mug slowly as she took in a deep breath. She stared into the flickering flames of the hearth as Varmond spoke of his patrols. “Regardless of weather, hm?” She didn’t look to him now as he spoke. Her mind ventured to their wedding day the joy and the sorrow of the day was overwhelming though the night of the union had been spent in laughter and smiles shared between the two as they questioned each other in good spirits.
“I would be honored to be at your side, Varmond.” She spoke after a long moment of silence, the only noise that filtered through the room was that of the crackling fireplace. “Your people should know that I am your wife and that I will...” She paused a moment, her expression almost troubled. “I will protect those within Skajadol, as I would protect you. We swore to it. Didn’t we?” Her voice was soft as she spoke. Azariah thought back to a week or so ago when she had spoke with Moira. The woman had expressed that even though Azariah possessed great power that was gifted to her by Odin...and even with her healing the frostbitten limbs, the people still did not trust her because of the disposition that Whitlock had against Skajadol. Because of the actions of the entire city, lashing out against those whom were innocent and truly causing damage to their reputation further than what was needed. They were willing to carve up their prince in order to ban the ‘savages’ from Skajadol from the city and ultimately rip Azariah from Varmond whom had won her hand fairly in the gauntlet.
Azariah closed her eyes then as she let out a breath which she had been holding for a few moments. She’d fallen completely still. She lifted her glass to her lips and finished off the delightful wine before she finally brought her eyes to Varmond. “Do you fear me?” She questioned then, thinking to his tensed muscles. Her eyes played over his face a moment. “Or is it simply that you fear that I fall into the beliefs of those of Whitlock?” Her expression held no emotion as she watched him. “The family that you took me away from. My mother...” She let out a breath as she imagined the pain that her mother might be in. Her mother had always looked out for her, when her father was cross Lila seemed to step in the path and divert him. “You don’t trust me. Do you?” Azariah gazed into his eyes, “I have tried...” She let out a long breath as she poured another glass of wine. Her head was light from the alcohol. She took a sip of it and then took a bite of a piece of bread. “I have worked alongside your people, I...I used my gift that Odin gave to me to save a few lives in the storms...and yet you do not trust me. Hm?” She pressed her lips together and looked away to the fire once again. “I stood up for you when your people accused you of injuring me...and yet they as much as you do not trust me.” She fell quiet then as she took a long drink of the wine.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 1, 2019 16:48:53 GMT -5
Varmod remained silent as he listened to Azariah speak and simply sipped on his wine or ate some of their food. When she asked if he feared her though he raised an eyebrow in interest and tilted his head slightly. Did he fear her? It was an odd question to him, but he supposed it was a fair one. Many would probably fear her, but being close to a god was something that gave them cause to be fearful. That is why he never told anyone about who his mother was. He would rather his people think him an abandoned bastard than to think he held some sort of divine favor or power. How could he lead his people if they feared him? Perhaps she didn't see it that way. She wanted the people to judge her for her own actions rather than who she was associated with. It was admirable, but not realistic.
"I do not fear your or your gift Azariah." He finally said after a moment of silence. "I'm sorry if I see distant or withdrawn, but try to understand that I've lived alone pretty much my entire life. Even as a child I would bounce between homes that would care for me for a while then send me off the next season. The whole city raised me and though I knew everyone I was close to no one. None of them even know Skadi birthed me, and I want it to stay that way." He took another drink of his wine. "People fear gods, that's what keeps them attentive to their will. You're very close to a god so that's what they fear. Just give them time and they'll get to know you." He finished off his glass of wine and stood up from his chair. "I think you're right about being exhausted though. Maybe we should get some sleep."
He removed his leather jerkin and hung it over a chair then slipped his boots off before making his way over to their bed and letting himself fall into the soft furs.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 1, 2019 18:48:24 GMT -5
Distant or withdrawn, those were two words that Azariah could use for her new husband. She glanced to him as he spoke. Though with each word that came from his mouth her expression seemed to soften, she hadn’t thought of what he must hide and how he grew up. She simply assumed that he had everything, he was the Jarl after all. Azariah had been waited on by hand and foot since she was old enough to remember. She lowered her eyes from him and looked back to the flickering flames as he removed his jerkin. It would take time. That was fair. She could understand that. Even she did not fully trust the man before her. She wanted to, for it was the gods will. Wasn’t it? Skadi seemed to know that this would happen. At least, Azariah had gathered that much from her tone and the few words she spoke before Odin intervened and put an end to the meeting.
She watched as he made his way to the bed, the princess gave a soft sigh before she drank the rest of her wine. She set her glass down upon the table before she stepped over to where he’d placed his boots. She slipped her fingertips over the laces and untied them before she set the boots next to his. She reached behind her back and loosened the strings upon her corset and she slipped it from her torso to hang next to his leather jerkin. She stood in her plain black tunic and black pants now. Carefully she unclasped her dagger from her thigh and she hung it from the hook as well. “Sleep does sound like a welcomed thing, hm?” She stepped to the bed. Azariah climbed beneath the furs with Varmond, a shiver ran up her spine from the slight chill of the cool bed. She gazed to him a moment. She took in a deep breath as she slowly reached up and ran her fingertips through his thick hair and along his collarbones. A soft smile curved up her lips as she did this, an involuntary smile even. Her eyelids were heavy as she traced along him slowly. She massaged his shoulders and arms here and there and with each passing minute her grip became looser. She took in even breaths and soon enough her hand grew slack and her eyes slipped shut as she succumbed to sleep, her forehead pressed against Varmond, her breaths let out against him in a rhythmic even stream.
**
Waves crashed over the decks of the small warrior ship. “Lower the sails! Row damnit!” Stav called over the rumble of thunder. “Row!!” He rushed through the men. Some had fallen overboard into the unforgiving waters.
“Father!” Azariah clutched onto the beam as she fought to lower the sails. She was around 14 then, small in frame, her arms could barely wrap around the mast in the center of the ship.
Stav rushed forward as a wave knocked against the ship. “Az!” He called just as the ship was capsized by another wave. The deck pushed sideways and the men called out.
Azariah screamed as she was flung from the ship into the thrashing waters. Her head was shoved beneath the water as she fought to survive. She kicked and flailed within the water only surfacing long enough to gasp in a breath before her head would be submerged by another wave. The night drew long as many men slipped to the fury of the sea falling beneath the waves and never surfacing. Azariah had managed to grasp onto a crate that held her small body afloat. Luckily that night it seemed Odin had been watching out for them for they were near the shoreline. Azariah washed up on the beach in the night soaked to the bone with the chilly ocean waters. She stumbled and fell to her knees at her father’s side. Many of the men that washed up on the shore were dead. There were only a few survivors that night. It was one of the most terrifying nights that Azariah could remember. Fighting for her life against Aegir the entity of the sea.
**
Azariah sat up quickly as she sucked in a breath. She held her hand to her chest. The memory of that night was a dream that she never wished to have. Her chest felt heavy as she slipped from the bed. She found her way to the hearth and she sat before the flames which were dwindling. She held her hand forward and her eyes began to glow. Slowly the flames ceased their movements and then they began to move once again growing in light as she rewound the time on the fireplace. Soon enough the fire was crackling and warm once again. She sat upon the fur before the fireplace and she held her knees to her chest, staring into the flames as the glowing from her eyes began to disappear. She sat here for a few hours before her eyes slipped shut once again. Azariah fell asleep hugging her knees to her chest, her head hung and her forehead pressed against her arms. Exhaustion had taken over and her sleep brought her no dreams this time around.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 1, 2019 20:41:08 GMT -5
Varmod felt his skin prickle as Azariah gently caressed him as she drifted off to sleep. When she finally grew still and her breathing slowed he turned his head to look at her and gave a gentle sigh. This girl was going to be the end of him one day. He was sure of it, but for now he just wanted to sleep. Varmod closed his eyes and turned back to face the ceiling of his house where the shadows from his hearth danced across the rafters. It wasn't long before he too had drifted off to sleep.
Throughout the night Varmod saw images behind his eyes of Skadi freezing his city and Odin standing over Azariah as he forced her to keep him held in place. Powerless to do anything as time was held in place around him. She held no remorse in her eyes as she watched everything and everyone around her freeze, simply kept repeating her promise to always follow Odin's twisted will. He struggled and fought to free himself from her grasp but Skadi simple continued to cackle as he continued to fight. Then he felt a sharp pain in his chest and when he looked down he saw an ice spike protruding from his chest.
He woke with a slight start and his hand felt over his chest as he half expected there to actually be something stabbing into him. To his relief though he found himself whole and unharmed. Looking to his side he saw that Azariah was no longer in bed with him so he sat up to glance around till he spotted her in front of the hearth. He sighed and gave a slight smile before getting up and walking over to her. He knelt down next to her and easily scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the bed, on his side that was still warm, and laid her down then covered her up with the furs.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 1, 2019 21:38:24 GMT -5
Azariah didn’t wake when Varmond lifted her into his arms though her hand moved and her fingertips curled his shirt into her palm, a soft sound escaped over her lips in her sleep. As he tucked her into the bed she curled against his warmth and her breathing became deep and even. Azariah didn’t dream through the rest of the night and she did not wake until the cold kiss of Skadi could be felt upon her cheeks. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and she found that she was hugged to Varmond, her head upon his chest. She let out a breath as she slowly moved, careful not to startle him. How had she returned to the bed? The last she remembered was sitting before the fire. She shivered slightly as she gazed up at his sleeping form, he seemed peaceful and it only caused a smile to curve up her lips.
She lay her head back upon his chest and now she listened to the rhythmic drum of his heart. She began tracing upon his chest absentmindedly until she felt him stir. “Good morning.” She whispered softly. She lifted her eyes to look to him then. “We should patrol the city, hm?” She brushed a piece of hair from his eyes before she slipped from the bed. Azariah stretched and yawned before a shiver rushed down her spine. She wrapped her arms across her chest as she made her way to her clothing which she pulled her boots on first. Then one by one she pulled everything on until she finally clasped her cloak around her body. She adjusted her sword upon her hip though she left her shield leaning against the wall for now. She moved before the coals of the fire and she held her hand out, once again she brought it back to life and the flames flickered happily. She held her hands forward and shivered again. She wasn’t used to the cold of the north. She glanced toward the door as the wind howled outside. It seemed Skadi was at play once again. “Did you sleep well, Varmond?” Azariah asked as she looked to him, she didn’t want to speak of her dream...her reminder of her past. She wished often that it was only a nightmare, but that simply was not the case.
|
|
|
|
Post by Nyte on Jun 1, 2019 22:02:08 GMT -5
When Varmod woke the second time Azariah was still tucked against his side and laying against his chest. Her body so close to his provided additional warmth that was very welcome from the frigid air around them. Though she didn't stay long and climbed out of the bed to start pulling on her warmer clothing to keep Skadi's kiss at bay. He wasn't as bothered by the cold but even he had to admit that it felt a little cooler than it should have within his home. He would need to add more fire to the hearth the next evening, or wake up and stoke the flames back to life every once in a while the next night.
Azariah's question how he had slept caused him to pause as he remembered the dream he had during the night, but he simply shrugged. "I slept well enough." He replied and stretched his limbs before getting out of the bed himself. He moved over to a trunk where he kept his spare clothing and pulled out a clean shirt and pants, dressing in the fresh clothing, and then fetched his jerkin and cloak to keep his body warm. "Why did you leave the bed last night?" He finally asked as he adjusted his cloak clasp. "Do you find it unsuitable?"
Once he was fully dressed he moved to the door and pulled it open, a bit of cracking could be heard as the ice around the frame broke and he looked out into a perfect white wonderland. Everything glittered in the sunlight and for everything Skadi had done he had to admit her winters were beautiful. Although there was no telling how long the calm of the storm would last. "Come on. Let's get moving if we want to cover enough ground before the flurries start back up."
Varmod's goal while checking on the village was to ensure that everyone had enough wood and food to last them for several weeks, if need be, and to also make sure everyone was in good health. As the pair approached each home those inside greeted them with warmth and hospitality as they offered their Jarl either food or drink, which Varmod always refused with a smile. They also greeted Azariah with respect but the young children seemed wary of her after hearing the stories their parents whispered to each other the previous night. Though the homes of the warriors who she had healed during the trip were much more friendly and inviting to her presence. Varmod was glad some of them had accepted her more readily and hoped their good nature would spread to the others were more suspicious or distrusting.
|
|
|
|
Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 1, 2019 22:48:03 GMT -5
Azariah looked to Varmond as he dressed in fresh clothing. She needed to find the weaver of the village to gather new clothing for herself. She hadn’t brought much with her and clothing was one of the last things on her mind the day they left Whitlock. It wasn’t about luxury at that point. She simply nodded to his response though she wondered if he had trouble sleeping with her at his side. She tensed slightly when he questioned her. In that moment she realized she hadn’t walked back to the bed. She remembered his arms around her, something that registered in her unconscious. Though he hadn’t frightened her, she’d felt safe and comforted by his arms wrapped beneath her as he gently lifted her from before the hearth. “I have quite a few nightmares.” She spoke, truthfully. “The bed is a fine one, I wasn’t displeased at all, just...couldn’t sleep...” She let out a shaken breath as her mind wandered to the dream of her past.
She watched as Varmond opened the door and a smile curved up her lips. “The winters in Whitlock are nothing like this.” She pulled her cloak around her body to shield her from the cold. “This….” She looked about the city in awe. “This is stunning. Beautiful. The mountains.” She spun slightly as she took everything in before she caught up to Varmond. She followed along with him greeting the people of Skajadol, though her smile was hard to keep when she saw the fear in the eyes of some of the residents. She’d pull her gaze away from them and slip behind Varmond, it was almost painful to feel unwanted in such a way. As they approached one of the homes Azariah took in a breath, she held that same forced smile upon her lips as she had the day Varmond had met her. It was very practiced, something that she’d done nearly every day of her life.
“Jarl.” A man with a thick black beard greeted them. “Please, come in.” He ushered them inside. “Come in from the cold for just a few minutes.” He led them to a wooden table that sat before the hearth. “Tea?” He asked as he nodded to his wife.
The woman brought the tea forward and set a cup before Azariah and then before Varmond. “It’ll warm you.” She nodded.
Azariah gave a smile to the woman as she took the warm mug into her fingertips. “Thank you.” The warm beverage was a welcomed treat since they had been outside in the cold for awhile. Azariah lifted the mug to her lips and sipped on the tea, it was a peppermint base that filled her mouth and warmed her belly.
“It is an honor to meet you, Princess.” The man spoke, “Skajadol is lucky to have you.” He smiled to Varmond then for a moment, “I’m sure you have plenty more homes to visit, Jarl.” He bowed his head. “Thank you for coming in from the cold.”
Azariah finished off her tea and the wife of the man took the mug and soon enough they stepped back out into the cold. As she walked through the snow she looked up to the flakes that were beginning to fall. They moved from home to home, greeting the citizens of Skajadol. They all seemed to adore Varmond. As they stood at the edge of the city Azariah reached forward and wrapped her arm around Varmond’s she let out a breath. “Varmond.” She spoke and shook her head slightly. Her vision was blurred. “Something isn’t...” Her eyes fluttered. She coughed slightly with her hand held over her mouth. Her silvery eyes stared to speckles of blood that lined her palm. Her knees felt weak as she took another step forward. As they had moved through the last few homes she had begun to feel weak and tired and she brushed it off for hunger and exhaustion. Now though, she wished she had told Varmond sooner. She gripped onto him as her breaths trembled.
A snickering sound came from behind them. “Enjoying yourself, girl?” A thin tall man stood with jet black hair and a horned helmet. “Looks like you’ve a little something there.” He reached forward and wiped blood from her lips. “Shame.” He giggled as he took a few steps back and tilted his head. “What a shame you are, poor human gifted by Odin, yet he didn’t make you stronger.” The man’s eyes looked to Varmond and he grinned. “You are the son of Skadi and yet you’ve no powers.” He danced around them almost playfully. “What will you do now, son of Skadi?” He giggled. “What will you do without the girl when she dies?” He clapped his hands and with that he disappeared into a puff of green smoke.
“Loki...” Azariah clutched her side as blood leaked from her mouth. The tea that she’d drank from the friendly man and woman had been poisoned. Azariah’s eyes lifted to look in the direction that the home had been, in its place stood only snow. The home, the man and woman...everything about it was an illusion created by Loki so that he could poison her. Bright red blood stained the snow as Azariah coughed. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the time around her, but nothing happened. “Varmond...” She whimpered as she leaned more into him, whatever Loki had given her was aggressive. Then again Loki was the god that killed Balder...Loki was the most mischievous god and he would stop at nothing to gain the attention of Odin.
|
|
