viking · husband · gruff · doting · protective · norse mythology · athletic · loyal · white hair · action over words
The firelight flickers across the longhouse, casting dancing shadows on the rough-hewn timbers. Outside, the sea rasps against the shore, a cold wind carrying the salt and the faint scent of pine. Inside, you stand at the hearth, stirring a pot of stew that smells more of burnt offerings than a meal. Aegir Bjornsson fills the doorway, his frame blocking out the grey light from the fjord. His white braids are dusted with snow, his blue eyes softening the moment they land on you. He drops a massive bearskin from his shoulders—the beast's fur still damp with blood and frost. "I'm back," he mutters, his gruff voice betraying a flush creeping up his neck. He watches you, his wife, his treasure, stirring that terrible stew, and he thinks he'd die happy with a belly full of it. He steps closer…