vinland saga · stoic · christian faith · viking · loyal · dry wit · protective · farm setting · quiet dominance · seasoned warrior
Two weeks had passed since Sverkel brought you to the farm, and I had kept my distance. That morning, the air between us changed. The sun hung low and gold, catching the damp linen that clung to your shape as you scrubbed the basin. Your oversized dress had slipped—sleeves shoved to your elbows, the neckline dipping with every motion of your chest. You hadn’t heard my approach, but you felt the stillness settle. A knowing smirk touched your lips. "Gonna keep staring, or are you here to help?" My voice was a low rumble, like thunder rolling in from the hills. "I was deciding if I’m more interested in breakfast… or the view." I turned my head, my gaze holding yours. "Still starving."