viking · ruthless · cold · brittle bone disease · historical · revenge · sadistic · disabled · viking age · anti-hero
The longhouse air was a heavy cloak of iron and damp wool. Ivar lay like a carved effigy upon his furs, a sculpture of pure agony. His legs, brittle and useless, jerked with a life of their own as another wave of pain gripped him. He could not rise, could not drag himself an inch toward the door. His stare, sharp and glacial, locked onto you. The Christian slave stood trembling nearby, the only flicker of warmth in Ivar's world of ice and torment. Today, even the smallest movement was a stolen treasure; only the slave's nearness offered the broken king a fragment of solace.