Regroup and Recuperate

[Julian Falkenberg]

Stormguard hunting hut, north-west of Tháinbroek​

Theme​

​

News of death of Longarm brothers spread like wildfire towards the capital, the remaining members of the clan racing to the High King to notify him of Warscream's treachery. He would answer for his crime infront of Dawnbringer, with Astrid's testimony the deciding factor between a death sentence by an especially gruesome method, or freedom. Still unaware of the events unfolding which changed the weave of destiny not only for Eodred's daughter, Astrid sank into the depths of Einarr's cloak, her back adhering to his chest as they rode together through the forest. Whirls of wind carried snowflakes into her squinting eyes as she struggled to see in relative darkness, the only guiding light that of Midvinter's sole moon. Almost an hour later, they stopped in front of a small wooden hut in the midst of the pine trees. The sheer remoteness of it assured a searching party would have trouble locating it, even if it was from air. The blonde slid off the horse and from under his cloak, her boots once again sinking into the thick snow.

"You should send the steed back to camp." she suggested upon making her way to the porch, glancing over her shoulder at Einarr - "That way they'd think we are dead, for now."
Her suggestion made sense in more way than one; the animal would freeze if Warscream would leave it in the blizzard.
With a creak, the door of the hut opened, revealing a single room, humbly furnished. There was a wooden table, with two chairs, a stone fireplace and a heap of tanned skins and furs. From one of the beams sausages and other game produce was hung, prepaired by traditional Valkyri recipies for smoked meat. Clearly, the hut was only used for hunting purposes; nobody actually lived there. It would have to suffice.

"Start the fire while I gather some ice." Astrid half-commanded and took one of the pots outside to scrape some ice hanging from the roof of the porch. There was no running water inside, no other way to wash the bloodstains from skin.

[member="Einarr Warscream"]

 

[Zef Halo]

Einarr slightly nodded at her suggestion of sending away the horse they had arrived with to the hut. He dismounted after her and tapped the horse on the back to go. It would find its way back to the camp, that was for sure. Judging by the changing weather, it was no surprise the horse galloped as quickly as it could in the direction of the camp. The blacksmith looked around the place where the hut was situated and realized it was indeed quite an isolated place. Hard to find.

He entered a few seconds after Astrid had gone in and looked around the cozy small hut. It was nothing but a simple hunting hut used during hunting seasons when it was survivable outside for the local fauna. Meat hung on a rope, it was being prepared for the traditional Valkyri smoked meats that was eaten on Midvinter. Food that Einarr adored, especially in his current condition.

"Start the fire while I gather some ice."

Einarr stood close to the door of the hut and as she made her way towards the exit, he took off his cloak and a layer of his Vhaanir leathers. The blacksmith offered them to the blonde. It was not the best of ideas to go out half naked in this weather. Seeing the wounds she had attained and feeling the pain of those he had on his body, Einarr knew they needed causterizing.

"Take these with you." He ordered with a neutral tone before he continued. "Don't stay too long outside, we've got wounds to tend to."


[member="Astrid Stormguard"]

 

[Julian Falkenberg]

A simple nod was offered as Astrid made her way outside, Warscream's cloak and leather draping over her shoulders. Thankfully, Valkyri were accustomed to low temperatures and had an exceptional resistance against the cold. Their metabolism was almost nuclear, fueled by fatty foods they ingested; their skin was unusually warm to the touch, like that of a Vhannir or a dire-wolf. Conversely, warm climates debilitated them significantly, often causing heat shocks and sunstroke. Summers on Midvinter were barely warm to allow for agriculture of rye and other cold grains. Yet the Valkyri adapted to the environment, sovereignly triumphing over the elements.

Astrid tapped against the icicles hanging from the porch roof, crushed ice falling into the pot. Once it was filled to the brim with crushed chunks of ice, she made her way back into the cottage and shut the door tight behind her. The blizzard outside was intensifying, gusts of wind lifting snow and twirling it around in a white flurry that grazed against the sole window of the hut. She placed the pot over the fireplace for ice to melt. They would need water to clean the wounds; daughter of Eodred had mostly suffered scratches and lacerations across her collar bone and a cut in her temple, where blood had already turned into a dark crust. Einarr, on the other hand, had a stab wound that needed treatment. The blonde sported a half-smile when she saw the flames of fire ignite inside the hearth, illuminating the interior of the chalet in pleasant orange hues.

"Not many survive an encounter with a Longarm and live long enough to tell their tale - " she said, peeling the cloak and leather off herself and tossing it over a chair - "I've seen Eirik kill a man with his bare hands by crushing their skull. He would've done the same with me if I objected to his ways."
The remnants of Astrid's tunic dangled from her shoulders, revealing her bare chest that was smeared with bloodstains. She didn't feel ashamed nor uncomfortable; the fair-haired woman figured a man of Warscream's renown had already seen everything there was to see. There was unspoken honor code between them; she was his equal now, having killed Knut Longarm by driving a blade right through his larynx. Besides, Shieldmaidens had an almost holy status among the Valkyri people, their purity and righteousness legendary.

"Let me sow you up." she suggested, motioning him to sit on the chair next to the table as took out a needle and some thread from the drawer. Her dagger was placed atop the table, next to the bottle of home-made honey brandy.
"Or if you don't mind a scar...." Astrid added, popping a cork plug to open the bottle of an especially strong brew of amber fluid - "You'll need a drink."

[member="Einarr Warscream"]

 

[Zef Halo]

Einarr stood heating his sword patiently on the hearth where fire blazed. His gaze was focused on the fire but his mind was anywhere but there. What he and Astrid had done would not go unanswered, it was something that left a taint in the history of Midvinter. Whether it would be good praising songs or antagonizing song that would be sung in tavers, it was yet to be decided. Yet, Einarr remained positive due to the fact of Astrid's shieldmaiden status and her father. What he knew of the man was that he would definitely not tolerate someone, whoever it was, to attempt and rape his daughter.

By the time the sword's edge began turning molten color, Astrid had finally come back in the hut shutting the door behind her. By the sound of the wind and the flying furiously snowflakes that he was able to have a glimpse at as she shut the door, Einarr knew that the blizzard was quickly picking up and that it would be a furious one. Most likely it would take the rest of the evening and tomorrow morning before it halted. This gave enough time for someone to began debating the events and force away any hunting parties that might be looking for them.

"There's always a first time for everything. Now the Longarms are not alive to tell the tale." Einarr scoffed at her. He was definitely very fond of the fact that one of the Longarms had been executed by him. Yet, he wondered if his fate would be the hunted rather than the hunter from now on, was it time for him to leave Midvinter.

Astrid's approach to him and her command washed away his thoughts. He glanced at her and saw she no longer wore the cloak and leathers he had given her. That did not bother him at all and that could be seen by his neutral expression. Einarr nodded and went to sit on the chair stripping his chest from the leathers and the harness revealing his athletic body - endless hours at a forge, enduring the harsh environment on Midvinter and fighting infinite times had forged that. A red painted spot marked a deep stab wound that had gone across his ribs, somehow not breaking any ribs in the process.

"I don't mind a scar as long as I don't die attaining it." Einarr commented and offered her his sword. "You will need this to causterize it after washing it. It's not very shallow."


[member="Astrid Stormguard"]

 

[Julian Falkenberg]

Astrid had seen her share of shirtless men every time she tended wounds of those injured in clan strifes; there was nothing erotic in deep, flesh-ripping cuts, bruises and skin lacerations covered in grime, sweat and blood. Valkyri were natural-bred warriors; for them, tending for the wounded was as much of a religious ritual as it was a medical necessity. All those surviving, after all, were in the mercy of the gods.
Nonetheless, her gaze slipped towards Einarr as he peeled the shirt from his torso, revealing a chiseled physique worthy of a deity. Before he could even notice Astrid had looked his way, the blonde stared back into the fire and stirred ice in the pot which was already half-melted.

"My father will have an audience with the High King once he returns from Warsung. It was about time he objected to Dawnbringer's idea of marrying me off to that beast." she started to explain, finally feeling comfortable to reveal the intricacies of political game on Midvinter. Before continuing, daughter of Eodred tossed another pine log into the fire -

"You see... who controls the Longarms, controls the throne. Out of all the clans, they are the most ruthless, but also the most powerful. They are barking mad and hence - unpredictable. Without a doubt, polarities and allegiances will shift in the capital. Longarms kept other potential usurpers in check; with them gone, the High King will not have allies with such low maintainance cost."

She rose to her feet and walked to Einarr, placing the pot of water onto the table. Astrid would carefully wash his wound before scorching it with the side of his blade. The blonde noticed he hadn't touched the honey brandy still.

"No need for you to act brave. Have a drink, straight up from the bottle. It will hurt." she warned, then lifted his arm up to gain access to his ribs and the deep jab wound between them. Her fingers trailed across encrusted blood, before she used a water-soaked cloth to gently dab against his skin and clean the wound.

"If the blade went up and in another half a foot or so, it would've slid right through your heart." the lady of Stormguard commented as she slowly wiped off blood, her touch gentle as that of falling snow.

[member="Einarr Warscream"]

 

[Zef Halo]

Of what she spoke, Einarr realized the real magnitude of what had happened. He did not know in-depth the Longarm's necessity to the throne. Now that Astrid had spilled out such details, his wolfish smirk took control as he looked at the fire. This has turned out to be the greatest unfolding of events in his gain. Yet, the blacksmith knew he had to be careful, nothing was decided yet. Even if Eodred goes and have a conversation with Dawnbringer, it may very well mean that Astrid is safe but not the same could be said about Einarr. Although, Dawnbringer was a fair man, he would give him that, the High King might judge differently as Einarr reputation grows. Eliminate a thorn before it pierces you. Was Dawnbringer capable of that ? Einarr did not think so but he was not too sure either.

His thoughts were washed away as the scorching heat of the blade touched his ripped skin, the blacksmith grinded his teeth in pain and sweat broke out on his frow. It had been only twice that he had to undergo this treatment, this was the third. Heeding Astrid's words, Einarr took the bottle and half-emptied the honey brandy in his mouth. It was the best taste he had ever had. The nobles were hoarding all the good things for themselves.

"So you keep the best things for yourselves, you nobles ?" He raised the bottle with a smirk.

"If the blade went up and in another half a foot or so, it would've slid right through your heart."

"Never forget - the Gods are righteous." With such a short statement Einarr meant a whole lot of other things. Taking a gulp of the brandy again as she would proceed tending his wound, Einarr somewhat enjoyed that a noble's daughter, bare chested and a shieldmaiden was patching him up.

It felt like being a King.

[member="Astrid Stormguard"]

 

[Julian Falkenberg]

"They always are, treating us the way we deserve, despite us not liking it every time." the shieldmaiden offered with a faint smile and removed the blade from Einarr's skin. The wound had been properly scorched; the sheer size of the affected area would guarantee a large, deep scar. Something to tell his grandchildren, if he would life long enough to have them and tell them a story of the demise of the Longarms. Astrid rose to her feet and regarded him fully, as he sat infront of her, far to jolly for the amount of pain he was just inflicted. She couldn't discern whether such merriment was a result of brandy seeping into his consciousness, or the sight of her exposed bosom. Ripped cloth dangled down her chest, swaying from side to side as she moved around. She wasn't completely bare, but there was little left to imagination.

"And yes, we like to keep fine things to ourselves, since people like you don't know how to appreciate them properly." the blonde added, then tugged the sides of her shredded tunic together, folding them over her chest to hide her torso. She then went for the cupboard where two large drawers contained a change of clothes for the occasional occupants of the hut.

"You know, I really don't like when you call me a noble. Because I'm not, not by birth, or otherwise." Astrid began explaining whilst rummaging through the contents of the storage cabinet. A blond eyebrow was raised upon finding things she was looking for months around the house, like her other quiver and a pair of fingerless leather gloves she used when hunting in the summer.

"A frequent misconception for those not familiar with our oath to the throne. The Stormguards are commoners, just like you. We are only bound by a hundred-generation oath to the throne of Midvinter, to serve the High King, whoever he may be. Blue blood does not run through my veins, despite what you might think. And I don't pretend it does."
Indeed, Astrid was a humble woman, with ground firm under her feet. Finally, she found a spare shirt and tossed it over her shoulder towards Warscream.

"My father's. He won't mind." she said, clearly wanting him to ditch the blood-stained undershirt. For herself, Astrid pulled out a simple linen dress in tan hues, no different than the one the peasant wives of Midvinter wore while doing their daily choirs. The dress was unsightly and somewhat shabby, but it would serve its purpose.

"Please, turn around." the shieldmaiden asked him kindly - "And no looking."

[member="Einarr Warscream"]

 

[Zef Halo]

Einarr grinded his teeth as the molten colored bladed touched the surface of his open flesh, yet the smirk was still on his face nonetheless. Immediately after her work on his wound, he finished the brandy in what seemed one gulp. He was quite resistant to alcohol but drinking such a strong drink after exhausting himself and lack of food made his head feel slightly heavier than before. Hence, he responded to her comment regarding the nicer things in ife and keeping the conversation about Gods for some other time. The blacksmith was certainly in no mood right now to speak about Gods.

"Really ? And how do you know that people such as me do not appreciate them ? " Einarr asked the blonde as she fixed her torn tunic in a way that her bare chest was no longer visible. As a man, he was quite disappointed at that but did not let it show. She had gone to the storage cabinet of the hut while explaining the history her family.

"You're as a commoner as much as I am a horse, Astrid." The blacksmith replied with a scoff and grabbed the shirt she had tossed to him. Apparently it was her father's. Einarr immediately found a comment of that. "Since we do not appreciate the finer things in life then why are you dressing me like a noble now?"

Einarr stood up from his chair so he could put on Eodred's shirt and when he sat back on the chair with the new shirt, the blacksmith felt quite refreshed. The alcohol was starting to make its way to his brain, numbing the pain of his wounds. After such a long day, he seriously needed some rest.

"Oh but of course, m'lady. A peasant such as I cannot enjoy himself watching the blessed by the Gods flesh of a noble." Mockingly Einarr put his hands on his face as if he won't look but with one eye he peaked through them on purpose.


[member="Astrid Stormguard"]

 

[Julian Falkenberg]

"Then you are a horse, Einarr Warscream." she concluded with a half-smile before kicking her boots off and unbuckling the belt that kept her leather trousers in place. Upon making sure the blacksmith was no longer staring at her with that inquisitive gaze of his, Astrid turned around to face away from him and slipped out of her trousers, tossing them over the chair. She then tore the front of the tunic up completely to gain full access to the wounds and used the soaked cloth to clean them. As she dabbed against her skin, the shieldmaiden continued her exposition. He was seemingly not in a mood for a serious discussion, but the daughter of Eodred persisted. For some unfathomable reason, she genuinely cared about his opinion. Perhaps it was his defiance that impressed her and how he questioned authority. Astrid's lineage was marked by total subjogation to the crown, serving Midvinter and the Valkyri people.

"Enjoy the pleasantries while you can. Maybe a tavern wench will think you are a noble and charge you nothing, for a change." the fair-haired woman retorted jokingly, showing the slayer of Longarm was not the sole proprietor of wit in this hut.

"But since you speak of horses... An untamed stallion is fast and swift, but it is the draft horse that pulls the cart." she said, hoping he was wise enough to understand the allegory - "For a stallion, even the harness feels heavy, while the draft horse has the weight of the world upon its shoulders every day. A world without stallions would just be slow, while a world without draft horses would be a world no more."

Once the wounds were clean, Astrid removed the remnants of the tunic from her shoulders and put the linen dress onto her bare body. Parts of her neck and collar bone were bruised, but at least blood coagulated and scabs started to form. Another bottle of honey brandy and a single glass was pulled from the cupboard and put onto the table, together with a pair of long smoked sausages made from boar meat. The shieldmaiden poured herself a glassfull of amber liquid and placed the bottle infront of Warscream, then pushed her dagger towards him.

"Eat. I made them. A bit spicy, if you fancy."

Lady of Stormguard sat opposite of Einarr and leaned back in the chair. Her palate finally tasted the equisite aroma of the brew she just served. A ghost of a smile formed on her pale face.
"All of my horses are always well fed."

[member="Einarr Warscream"]

 

[Zef Halo]

Einarr watched her tend her wounds and compare him to a horse. The alcohol that entered his body began distorting his initial intentions to more primal and deeper. He didn't believe one word that she said about being a commoner, she was by far more different to him, according to him. Indeed, they shared some similar traits that could be classed as being more 'commoner-like' but that is where the similarities ended. One thing that was running through his head now was her statement about peasants not being able to appreciate the finer things in life. And the alcohol gave him ideas on how to counter that.

When she came to sit on the table while talking things that would've made sense to him if he had less alcohol and less hungry for food and other things. She brought food and another bottle of the sweet brandy, his gaze was fixated upon her. Truly, seeing her now with a common dress there was some more similarities but by far he shared much more of this brutish commoner persona than her. It was expected to be so, she had grown up among the nobles, he believed. The blacksmith grabbed the sausage like a hungry animal and ate it like a wolf, he was feeling hungry, really hungry. Washing down the food with the brandy, he now finally found the way to see her as the alcohol seemed more or less to take over.

"Do you know what horse I am ?" Einarr began as he stood up with his smirk on his face. He pulled her up and then picked her up and put her on the table. While above her, he would utter:

"A stud."


[member="Astrid Stormguard"]

 

[Julian Falkenberg]

Men and their insatiable desire for flesh. Mere hours ago, Astrid's body had been assaulted by the second most fowl man on Midvinter, and now by the boldest. Warscream was crude in his intentions, his coarse nature surfacing once enough brandy made its way to his bloodstream. The daughter of Stormguard was placed atop the table, with Einarr slithering his hips between her legs to allow himself to come closer. He had caught the blonde offguard, leaving her with no time to react to his sudden advances. She was caught by surprise, her mouth half open when Einarr picked up on her wordplay and took it to the extreme. A part of her wanted to hit him, ram a fist into his perfectly angular jawline, while the other wanted to place her lips on his and let him pluck the flower of her femininity. Neither would be especially wise, the Valkyri woman concluded.

Instead, she propped herself up for a moment and placed a soft kiss on Einarr's cheek, just above the curve of his mouth and then wrapped her arms around his midsection, the side of her face placed against his ample chest. Astrid hugged him tightly, like a person who had been drowning embraces their savior, her cheek pressing just below his heart. The hug was honest, sincere as that of a child. The subtle scent of testosterone of a man in his prime reached her nostrils, mixed with the fresh fragrance of a clean shirt he wore. Ocean-blue eyes closed instinctively.

"Thank you." she said softly whilst hearing his heart throb in his chest like a wardrum - "Thank you for ridding this world of Eirik Longarm. I have nothing left to fear anymore."

She then released him, and looked down, shame painting her otherwise pale cheeks in rosy hues. A complete opposite to the confident, mischevious young woman that unknowingly provoked Einarr into something she might regret later.

"I... I've never..." Astrid began stuttering and shook her head at the thought of Warscream claiming a right that would've been Eirik's on their first wedding night.

[member="Darth Ragnarok"]

 

[Zef Halo]

What she did in retaliation to his approaach was something that even surprised the more than tipsy Einarr. Kissing his cheek and then hugging him tight made him pause with everything he had gone on doing. Despite all the energy draining activities that she had gone through today, her skin and hair still smelled of sweet aroma. Yet, the alcohol in his bloodstream had drained the blood from his brain and led it to another place. The blacksmith craved for what Eodred's daughter had to offer. It was only natural for a man to hunger for the flesh of a woman after a long day of sweat.

"Thank you for ridding this world of Eirik Longarm. I have nothing left to fear anymore."

Einarr watched her transformation, even in his current state he could not help but notice the swift change of behavior. Of a proud and stubborn woman, she had shed her skin to show a humble and sweet girl. Perhaps, if there was no psychological pyramid of needs, he would've thought more about it but the blacksmith felt like he had to finish this day blessed by the Gods and by Astrid's flower.

When she stuttered in her next statement, the blacksmith put his hand on her cheek and raised her face to face him. Her blue eyes to lock with his icy blue eyes and look. In such scenarios, actions in silence were the best weapons to use.

He advanced closer in attempt to seal passionately their lips. His other hand could not resist his urge to have her and roughly snatched at her back.

[member="Astrid Stormguard"]