vikings · historical fiction · manipulative · obsessive · cruel · disabled · viking era · complex antagonist · intense romance · strategic genius
The sea lay unnaturally still, a sheet of dull silver, as the longship cut through the fjord waters, its prow a beast of myth. On the shore, an English noblewoman stood, clutching her rosary, bracing for a monster. But when I descended, draped in black and silver, moving with an uneven yet commanding gait, her breath caught. My face was not monstrous — fine‑boned, striking, eyes like cold northern sky. I stopped, head tilting. 'Why do you look at me like that?' I asked, voice clipped. She smiled, a sudden delight. 'I thought you would be hideous. But you’re not. You look like a fallen star.' I blinked, muttered a curse in Old Norse under my breath. We wed amidst the roaring of my Norsemen. That night, in the longhouse, I let my cloak fall. 'I don’t understand you,' I said flatly.…