@irandalina liked this for a smol starer
“Ivar can choose for himself. He is not a boy anymore and it was certainly not up to you to tell him what to do.”
@irandalina liked this for a smol starer
“Ivar can choose for himself. He is not a boy anymore and it was certainly not up to you to tell him what to do.”
@strangestviking liked this for a smol starer
“Your mother doesn’t let you come, does she?”
@snake-eye-warrior liked this for a smol starer
”Have you made your decision, Sigurd? Will you raid with me?”
like for a short thing??
Please. I’m hella bored yall
“ they don’t care if you live or die.”
“They don’t care enough to kill me. And that makes the difference, doesn’t it, my dear?” Ragnar walks closer to her, slowly wrapping his arms around her waist “How about you? Did you wish I had died when I was away?”
“ you do understand how suspicious that is to ordinary people?”
“To stupid people, perhaps.But then again you don’t have to do much, to draw one’s suspicion.People don’t trust others easily”
❝ I’m not certain, ❞ Athelstan admitted, looking back down at the cup in his hands. The sweet and heavy liquid inside it had remained untouched until now, its scent numbing his sense of smell to anything else. He was tired in a way he hadn’t been since his early days as a monk, back in England. A tiredness of the mind it was, not of the body. Thoughts about the things he had witnessed in Uppsala had plagued him day and night since their return, accompanied by a plethora of inconsistent emotions. There was a sense of betrayal –but nothing palpable; only the ghost of a feeling he might have felt, had anyone else tried to offer him as a sacrifice for the salvation of their soul. It stood no chance against the constant voice in his head, reminding him that these were not his people, nor would they ever really be. He could accept them, and they could accept him, but he felt as though the doubts in his heart would forever separate them like the ocean the shores of Scandinavia and England.
There was no anger or fear in him now, only hollow spaces where waves of them had hit as realisation had taken over. Had he rested himself in a false sense of security, amidst supposed friends, who always looked at him with the eyes of strangers? Had he been offered a great - and true - honor, and turned it down like a faithless fool? The cause of Athelstan’s confusion was so beyond the realm of anything interpersonal that it did not affect the way he spoke to Ragnar like a regular fight might have. Something was different now, but Athelstan found himself unable to say if it had changed for the better or the worse - and the attempt to figure it out left him with nothing but a burning headache and more questions than before.
Ragnar’s words made him turn his head, in time to see Thyri avert her eyes. His lips parted with almost uttered words, but he remained silent. The night before the sacrifice was a haze, his memories fractured and blended in with dreams and hallucinations and nightmares. He remembered her gentle touch and her warm gaze, but the memory left him cold. It seemed false now; like a last act of kindness granted to a doomed man, or the praise for a hero given before it was due - because that was what it had been, wasn’t it? ❝ Because I am still here, ❞ Athelstan finally replied, turning back to Ragnar. ❝ So she can look at me. ❞
Finally he put the cup down, accepting that the desire to drink would not settle in tonight. The lights of the flames in the hall’s fireplace were dancing in Ragnar’s eyes, giving them a mischievous gleam. ( Thought, somehow, he always seemed a little mischievous. ) ❝ Was it your plan all along? When you brought me back from England. To bring me to Uppsala? ❞
Perhaps Ragnar would not admit it to others, but Athelstan was still an outsider, even though e was trying to blend in. Their world was different from his own and even though at some point THE priest would get used it, it was still all new. “No. I didn’t know you then.” he responded quietly, his eyes remaining on his hands as he spoke. Wouldn’t have been easier then, to lose him? Athelstan had become a part of his life now and even though Ragnar didn’t mean to, he had liked it, he had grew fond of him. It would be better if he apologized, a part of him had regreted it, the fact that he had kept it from him more than anything else. But it was more important for Athelstan to understand. “That wouldn’t be a sacrifice then, would it?” he smiled slightly, running his hand through the flames of the candle between them. FInally, he looked up, to meet his gaze. “Don’t confuse sacrifice with killing. If I ended your life in the monastery, it would be just another murder, just another killing. And as you saw, we don’t mind doing that at all.” No, his people loved blood, they loved taking lives of others, of their enemies to please the Gods and themselves. “Sacrifice means giving something you don’t want to lose to prove your faith. You might not give human lives to your God, but don’t you sacrifice something to, when you become a monk? The chance of a family, of falling in love?”
((PSA; I think I am going to put Ragnar on semi-hiatus for now, I don’t have really muse for me. But who knows, maybe he’ll come back properly at the end of November MEANWHILE, you can find me here on Erik/Magneto and on Renly))
((PSA; I think I am going to put Ragnar on semi-hiatus for now, I don’t have really muse for me. But who knows, maybe he’ll come back properly at the end of November MEANWHILE, you can find me here on Erik/Magneto and on Renly))
😟 … received some bad news 😃 … received some good news ✴️ … suffered a serious injury 🚼 … taken a pregnancy test 💓 … discovered that they don’t have long to live 👊 … been attacked ❌ … received a threat ❗️ … heard some news about your muse 🔁 … been thinking about your muse ⬆️ … woken up ❤️ … been on a date ♈ … been arrested ☄ … discovered your muse is missing ℹ️ … lost something important ⚰ … lost a loved one 💍 … got engaged 🙍 … been betrayed ⚙ … realised how they feel about your muse ❓ … got something to ask your muse
Kriti . G (via wnq-writers)
The boy followed Ragnar up the hill, still quivering like a feather on the breeze. When they reached the top, Floki started to feel anxious again. “M-Maybe I should just…go home. Your father might not want me in your house.” His teeth chattered a little.
“Why wouldn’t he want you home?” he stopped to give him a curious look, wondering if the boy hid a horrible secret that everyone but Ragnar knew. “You have not killed anyone, have you?” he asked, but he already knew the answer to that “You don’t have to come with me, if you don’t want to, but it is more than alright if you do!”