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Sæhrímnir

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Vigdìs Vidarsdóttir
Huskarl

PROFIELMessages : 35
Country : The Netherlands
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Title : Princess of Uddevalla
Age : 19 y/o
Place of birth : Uddevalla

PostSubject: Sæhrímnir Mon Jun 05, 2017 4:49 pm



Ironically, dinnertime had always been the best part of the day to Vigdìs. Chances were that this was the only, brief moment of the day their family would all see each other's face. And as a kid, this had been all Vigdìs ever wanted. But now, now she couldn't help but feel empty whenever the sun started to set, whenever her stomach started to nag or whenever a thrall scattered the smell of food through the Mansion. Dining was something she'd come to preferably skip. It was the empty chairs, that made her feel constantly agitated when facing her steaming plate. The empty chairs that lay heavily in the empty spots in her heart. This meant she couldn't sit still, and always placed herself on the very edge of her chair. Always be ready, read her philosophy, never let your guard down ever again. The same applied for sitting down to take the time to dine. So, Vigdìs sighed as she reluctantly strode towards the room in question, a wisp of her untamed curls dancing on the little breeze.

Upon arriving, she slid the quiver containing the arrows that had survived her trip to Skagen. The food was there,  her father wasn't. Vigdìs hadn't been away for too long, but she still expected at least a little reception from him. She sat down, tumultuous as always, and started to carelessly stir the mashed potatoes around. She just thought of bringing her plate to her room, when she spotted the entrance of a silhouette in the corner of her dark eyes. 'You're late,' she spoke to Vidar. She hadn't looked at him, a minor grin softly played her lips. Over the years, Vigdìs had found that greeting her father in a little bit of an insulting manner, was a good way to immediately gauge the atmosphere. Curious to see how his day had been, she awaited her father's answer while demonstratively chewing her meat.


[Vidar Ingvarsson]

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Vidar Ingvarsson
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Title : Mørket
Age : 46 y/o
Place of birth : Uddevalla

PostSubject: Re: Sæhrímnir Tue Jun 06, 2017 6:48 pm

Days were exhausting, not having Vigdìs around. He had to constantly strengthen his mask, preventing his temper from sliding through his fingertips and breaking loose. It had happened before, and the people from Uddevalla had learned that Vidar was even more remorseless when his daughter wasn’t in the Kingdom. There hadn’t been much issues, but just enough to make Vidar’s head creak from the headache. It was a kind of relieve, when a servant messenger had entered his bedroom after a soft knock on the door, to tell him that his daughter had arrived. Vidar was still laying on his bed, the sheets curled up in the palm of his fist. Slowly he brought the fabric to his face, trying to feel, trying to smell his past, his wife, his identity. But everything was gone,  long lost but not forgotten. He hadn’t smelled her soft perfume of roses in years, and the spark in his heart as well in his eyes had dissapeared. Vidar had disappeared.

He didn’t knew how much time had passed since the servant had told him that Vigdìs was waiting for him in the dining room. It was only when the smell of food drew his attention that he was able to pull himself together again. With a soft grunt he found his feet, went with his hand through his hair to hide that he had been hiding in the safety and calmness that his sheets brought him.

’You are late.’ the mocking voice of his daughter rymed through the empty dining room that once had been so warm and cosy. ‘I am King.’ He reminded her when he stepped into the candle light and pinched his eyes to slits. Being King was one of the only things that was left of him, one of the few things that he was able to hold on to. He was a father for many years, but the father-figure had disappeared together with Hillevi.  Vidar had pointed his ice cold eyes in her direction, when he walked pass by her to reach his seat on the other side of the table. A servant pulled his chair back, only to push it forward again when he made preparative to sit down. He hadn’t taken his eyes of her for a moment and on his face was the same, dark grin that was on hers. A grin that only they could appreciate. ’You look tired.’ he said while filling his plate with all the goods that the servants had prepared for them. ’Found something?’ he then asked, his face immediately turned serious. They had never found anything, not about the intruders, not about Vern, but every time Vigdìs returned, he asked the same question over again. It wasn’t out of hope, it was just out of hunger for revenge.
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Vigdìs Vidarsdóttir
Huskarl

PROFIELMessages : 35
Country : The Netherlands
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Title : Princess of Uddevalla
Age : 19 y/o
Place of birth : Uddevalla

PostSubject: Re: Sæhrímnir Mon Jun 12, 2017 3:10 pm



'I am King,' her father had spoken before he stepped into the light. His eyes were narrow slits, but it didn't hide the fact he had bags and wrinkles hiding underneath them. Vigdìs knew they were there, and she knew the King wasn't keen on showing them. His title, that was how he had greeted her. She didn't mind, it was how it always went. Even if there were time for warm welcomes, there was no place for them. Not anymore. Winter had come, and the Royal residence had frozen over. And yet, she smiled. It was a dark smile, but it didn't detract from the fact she found it amusing how her father didn't try to put her in her place but just reminded her of his. He watched her as he started to his seat, and she watched him as he was helped in it by a thrall. His face could sometimes be a mirror to hers. In many ways, they took after each other. From their character to their traits and facial expressions. Right now, he was mimicking her. Or she was mimicking him. It was a grin she had never seen on someone else's face before. About the only thing, besides the Kingdom, that had been left for them to share.

It was only as soon as Vidar filled his plate, she started eating again. Vigdìs had been more hungry than she cared to admit. Trips like the ones she had taken before exhausted her. Like he could read her, her father said: 'You look tired.' She put down her drumstick of chicken and resist the urge to roll her eyes at him. She was more mature than that, she had to remind herself. 'Likewise,' she responded, looking at the dark, bisected circles under his blue-grey eyes. For a brief moment, a silence descended on them. Vigdìs knew what was coming. It happened every time. Shortly after she would return home, there were a few, almost careless words before he would ask. And every time he would, Vigdìs felt more and more tense for she could never give the answer they were both hoping for. She decided to have a sip of her ale instead of waiting for the inevitable to happen. 'Found something?' There it was. She tried her best to peacefully put her drink down before responding, but her knuckles turned white in it's way down to the tabletop. Then she shook her head, avoiding his cold look. 'But I will,' she quickly added, speaking determinedly. And she would. Even though she had slowly started to lose hope, she would never lose persistence. Since they were talking, she decided it would be easier to tell him now. 'I'm thinking of going to Skaggerak next,' Vigdìs dipped her toes in the water. 'As soon as possible, actually. As soon as suits you, that is.' She realised that maybe it would have been better to wait for her father filling her in about what she had missed during her absence and what would need taking care of. But it was too late now.
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Vidar Ingvarsson
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Title : Mørket
Age : 46 y/o
Place of birth : Uddevalla

PostSubject: Re: Sæhrímnir Wed Aug 23, 2017 11:27 am

Vidar knew he wasn’t the father he was supposed to be, he knew he had disappointed his Hillevi by becoming the man he was. But he had tried, tried to pick up the role of a father and put the role as a king to the side. But neither that had turned out well. The constant fighting with both his son and daughter, losing control over his people. No, a man, a King like him wasn’t suited to pick up both tasks. So he had turned into a dark, lone ruler to get back the control over his people and abandoned the role as a father. He had given others the task to raise his children until they were old enough to take care for themselves. And because of the fact that they were carrying his genes, that was pretty soon. They had become independent, strong and passionate about everything their father was passionate about. Now he was looking at his daughter, clearly exhausted about her journey. On a certain level he was proud, proud that she was still on his side, was just as determined as him to find the person that killed his wife and her mother. But Vidar would never show that, he would only push her further, test her limits and put her into place if she didn’t succeeded. He enjoyed it, seeing her resist the urge to roll her eyes at him. Over time she had learned what she could and could not do in his presence. And eye-rolling was one of those things. ’Likewise.’ Was her similar answer before she placed her teeth into a drumstick. Vidar raised the corner of his mouth into an evil glare. She was right, he was tired.

A few moments passed in which Vidar had filled his plate with all the goods that the servants brought to the royal table. But he hadn’t touched it once. Before he would be able to eat, he had to get a question of his chest. And Vigdìs knew what was coming, he could read it on her body. But even before he had asked the question, he already knew the answer. If she would’ve found something he would’ve heard from it even if she wasn’t home yet. But now they were sitting at the same table and there hadn’t fallen a word about it. And yet he had to ask it.. Vigdìs shook her head, and Vidar felt his heart cramp together. ”But I will.” She avoided his eyes, something he had never liked. So he just stared at her in dead silence, waiting for her to raise her head. The anger inside of him grow even stronger because of her stance. ”I’m thinking of going to Skagerrak next.” Vidar placed his cup onto the table with a loud smack. Ale poured over the sides and wettened the table. ”As soon as possible, actually. As soon as that suits you, that is.” He turned his hands into fists and felt his body starting to shiver from anger. ”Tell me I haven’t heard you well.” He said, gave her a fictional chance to correct herself. Vidar didn’t knew what to say next, totally in a two-battle with himself and the thing Vigdìs just had said. He knew she was his only chance to find the murderer of his wife, he knew she was the only one he trusted outside of the walls of Uddevalla. But she also was the one he needed on the inside. So her announcement of her early departure made him fill with anger just as well as shortcoming of company. He placed his forehead in his hand, stared at the table before he closed his eyes. Anger wasn’t the solution to this, he realised. ”I’m going to give you one more assent, Vigdís.” He said, much more softer than before. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked back at her, hoping this time she would be looking back. ”I need you here.” He sighed deeply. ”But I need you more out there. Just remember that I’m getting sick of all these failed assignments.” Vidar shoved away his plate, his hunger was over. For a moment he stared her straight into the eyes, cold blue to dark blue. ”You’re going to empty your plate and take a bath. Get some good night rest so you can leave tomorrow with a fresh mind and sharpened weapons.” He turned his head towards the slaves in the corner of the room, they had all hidden in the shadows when Vidar’s mood had switched. But only the look from the King was enough to make them run again, to take care of everything Vidar had just said. ”When you leave Uddevalla this time, it can’t be for nothing. If you want to return, the gates will only open if you have your brother with you, or the person who killed your mother.” Vidar raised his chin and took a deep breath. ”If not..” he didn’t even finished his sentence. She just had to make him proud, once again.

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Vigdìs Vidarsdóttir
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Title : Princess of Uddevalla
Age : 19 y/o
Place of birth : Uddevalla

PostSubject: Re: Sæhrímnir Sat Sep 23, 2017 10:59 am



Going out into the field for trips like these never failed to be completely exhausting, but Vigdìs had come to know that the real exhaustion didn't start until she had safely made her way back home. The place she used to call home, that was. Now, it had started to turn to crumble, and no luxury in their kingdom could ever mask the cracks in the walls. How long before their precious palace would be nothing more than a relentless ruin of absence? The lack of a familiar face had torn both of them apart, for it appeared they didn't know anything about each other, despite the fact they had nearly the same blood flowing through their veins. The princess was renowned for her dauntlessness, a statement she would happily support -if it weren't for her father. His judgement was the only one she had possibly ever feared. That's why coming home, tiptoeing around him, was exhausting. Avoiding catching his eye was exhausting, having to tell him that she had yet again had to come home empty handed and nothing wiser was exhausting and pretending that they both didn't know this was exhausting too. But the most exhausting thing about this whole, constantly repeating cycle, was how she could never do enough. Nothing was ever good enough. Even with her life absolutely devoted to his wishes and impossible commands, she knew she could never expect any appreciation for all she had done. Of course, she had known this for a long time, but she just couldn't stop hoping that things might get better between them someday. She also knew she had to get rid of that false hope as soon as she could, but somehow she kept clinging to it. It wouldn't get better. It was gone, and she had to accept that. The only way she could connect with him would be through vengeance.

Even before she secretly read his body language, she could tell he wouldn't be amused. And that would be a huge understatement. As soon as his hands had folded itself into fists, his anger was tangible in every part of the room. 'Tell me I haven’t heard you well,' he commanded her to repeat herself. Finally, Vigdìs stopped avoiding his gaze and locked eyes with him. When his anger was through the roof like this, she knew it was best for her to lay low, but now she was confused as to what he wanted from her. She was sure that he didn't want to hear the disappointing words again, she was sure he had been perfectly able to understand every single one of her timbres. She remained silent, looking at him until the tables turned. Now he was the one looking away, closing his eyes, in fact. She took advantage of the fact he couldn't see her for now and quietly sighed. What a failure she had to be in his eyes. Sometimes she was sure her father would happily trade her life for that of his wife's. When he spoke again, her expression became the usual cold one. 'I’m going to give you one more assent, Vigdís.' She met his light eyes, trying to show no emotion whatsoever in hers. 'I need you here.' A deep sigh rolled over his lips. 'But I need you more out there. Just remember that I’m getting sick of all these failed assignments.' Oh, and how she remembered. It was about all she could remember, all that could fill her head as she would leave another village alone. She could hear his plate scrape across the table as if he wanted to get across that she ruined his will to eat at all. 'You’re going to empty your plate and take a bath. Get some good night rest so you can leave tomorrow with a fresh mind and sharpened weapons,' was his verdict. Fine. That was just perfect anyway, that was she wouldn't have to stay here a minute more than necessary. The slaves that had reacted wisely upon their master's anger and hid in the corners, their heads hanging low. Now, however, with one look for their king, they directly started to arrange for Vigdís's departure tomorrow. 'When you leave Uddevalla this time, it can’t be for nothing. If you want to return, the gates will only open if you have your brother with you, or the person who killed your mother.' Vigdís gulped, the sound nearly echoing through the now empty room. Her father wasn't done speaking yet, so she knew it'd be wise to remain silent for a little bit longer. 'If not...' His threat died out, indicating that it now was her time to speak. His mission was impossible. If she wouldn't find anything in Skaggerak, she wouldn't have enough means to get to the other villages. She'd have to survive on her own, without the ammunition and nourishment the kingdom usually provided her with. How was she supposed to find either her brother or the traitors without a single lead? She had nothing, no information. The princess had tried so hard, many times before, but now that she knew she wasn't welcome here anymore, what would she have to lose? Of course, she wanted nothing more than to tell him all this, that the hunger for revenge had messed with his head and made him think impossible things to be possible. But all she said was, even if it were a little bitter: 'Understood, father.' She put her cutlery down to follow his example and leave the food for what it was, even though she was still starving. She would eat again in the morning, before her departure. 'I won't let you down this time, your majesty, I promise.' It was something she was supposed to say, even though she didn't believe it and even though there was no use saying it; he had made it impossible for her to let her down one more time.
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Vidar Ingvarsson
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Place of birth : Uddevalla

PostSubject: Re: Sæhrímnir Mon Sep 25, 2017 5:38 pm

Vidar knew what he was asking of her. And he knew that there was a chance that she would never return to the Kingdom. Maybe she just would never succeed the quests he gave her, or would lose her life on the way. Asking this of her instigated an emotion that he hadn’t felt in a long time: fear. He was afraid that he indeed would never see her again. But Vidar knew that he would only find peace when Vigdìs succeeded. If not, he would rather spend the rest of his life alone in his Kingdom instead of being reminded to it all the time when he looked at her face. ”Understood, father.” He hadn’t expected another answer from her. ”I won’t let you down this time, your majesty, I promise.” Vigdìs had always been loyal to him. There wasn’t much love between them since Hillevi died, but there definitely was some kind of connection. Vigdìs pushed away her plate, just as Vidar had done before her. He looked at it, at the almost untouched food and the dull stare in her eyes. In any other case he would have commanded her to finish it, but now.. He only sighed and looked at the thralls coming to action to take care for everything that Vigdìs would need for her journey. ”You know I would do it, if I could..” His voice was more soft than usual. Vidar pressed his chair backwards and found his feet. He stepped alongside the table towards her, his fingers stroking over the wooden surface. When he was standing next towards her, he placed his hand on the top of her head and slowly moved his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done that. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had shown her some kind of affection. ”You have to succeed.” And with those words he took his hand back and left the dining room, again looking for comfort in his own bedchamber.

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Vigdìs Vidarsdóttir
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Age : 19 y/o
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PostSubject: Re: Sæhrímnir Wed Sep 27, 2017 10:56 am



His command hadn't, like she would expect to feel when the words would finally come out of his mouth, filled her with fear. They had just made her entire system go numb. If anything, this proved that there was nothing left of their family. Every piece had shattered, to the extent that her own father didn't seem to have a problem to send her away for months. To lose her like he lost his son, and with that, risking to lose her like he lost his wife. Although empathy was the last thing on her mind right now, there was a part of her that understood. Vigdìs understood she was his only means, his only chance. He trusted her with this mission, and that was a big deal. In some aspacts she was grateful that her father made her do this, instead of any other royal obligations. Hunting and surviving and fighting, that was her field. That was where she felt comfortable. But on the throne, she had no clue whatsoever. 'You know I would do it, if I could..' She wasn't sure about that, but she granted him a small nod. She didn't know why had spoken in such a strange, soft tone. As he stood up and approached, a tension moved through her muscles. She couldn't blame her body for that reaction, her father was an unpredictable man, after all. He proved that once again, by placing his hand on her head, genlty stroking it. Vigdìs slowely let her shoulders drop and before she could be wiser and decide not to give in to how good his little affection felt, she closed her eyes. For a moment, she was a little girl again, at the fireplace with her father, brother and mother after a training, sipping hot beverages that filled her whole inside up with warmth. Now not even all the tea in the world would be able to warm her frozen over stomach. 'You have to succeed.' His words brought her back to the harsh reality and she opened her eyes, realising how foolish she had been for closing them in the first place. As he walked away, Vigdìs looked at him, knowing it would probably be the last time. Not in a sentimental way, but in a realistic way. She let her head sink into her heads for a moment, before she had one of the thralls escort her to the bathing room. Only to take a bath that would fail to warm her up.

- Thread finished.
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