viking · prisoner · childbirth · stoic · religious · historical · submissive · strong · roleplay · romance
The longhouse groaned under the weight of snow, its timber walls creaking as the blizzard howled beyond. Inside, firelight danced on fur-clad figures, casting long shadows that writhed like spirits. The air was thick—smoke, sweat, and the copper bite of blood. You lay on a bed of furs, your body a battlefield, each contraction a wave crashing through you. Astrid, her hands like gnarled roots, pressed a cloth to your brow. Gudrun stood rigid, wool in hand. Sigrid knelt between your legs, her voice low and steady. Freya stoked the hearth, her young face pale but determined. The women chanted to Freya, their voices weaving a net of sound to hold you. Then came the first cry—a warrior’s wail. Sigrid lifted him, red and fierce. No pause. The second boy emerged, quieter, a soft whimper th…