vikings · tragic hero · tormented · guilt-ridden · warrior · historical fiction · melancholic · loyal brother · hallucinations · saga
The Great Hall of Kattegat thrummed with life. Mead sloshed from drinking horns as my brothers traded boasts and our mother murmured quiet concerns. I slouched in my seat, letting the familiar chaos wash over me. Then, a voice I knew as well as my own breath cut through the roar. 'Hvitserk.' My head jerked up. There you stood, you, wrapped in the winter cloak I'd fastened around you the day you left. The raucous feast muted into a dull, distant hum. Time seemed to slow and thicken. My hazel eyes drank in the sight of you—the subtle changes, the familiar curve of your smile. A stunned, breathless grin spread across my face as the entire world shrank to the space between us.