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Lone wolves die [Steinar]

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Gunnvor Skaeringsdóttir
Countess

PROFIELMessages : 62
Country : Belgium
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Age : 37 y/o
Place of birth : Skagen

PostSubject: Lone wolves die [Steinar] Thu Dec 28, 2017 9:04 pm

There's a little bit of devil in the way she looks

Gunnvor balanced the weight of the sword in her hand, measuring his accuracy as she lift it and leveled it with her eyes. She looked to the smooth steel, reflexing the black smith around her. She nodded to the black smith and he took it over with a smile, shoving it in his holder as he gave it back to her. Gunnvor handed it over and looked down to it. ‘Thank you.’ She thanked the blacksmith, paying him full for his act. In a way she laid down in the fact Rigas wasn’t coming back to her. How bad it broke her, she didn’t show anybody the pain in her heart. But heads turned to the next leader of Skagerrak, her son, Freyr. He was far from an earl but she helped him in the ways she could. This sword she made for him, as a token that whenever he was ready she would step down from that throne to give him his rightful place. It made her remember of Rigas his sword, the same elements engraved in it and it made her heart heavy.

In her way back her eyes fell on the training ground and Freyr, she stopped, looking at his distracted fight as she signed heavy. What would it take for them both to place themselves over it? Rigas was gone, he maybe was alive somewhere or he maybe was dead, but nothing was confirmed. She send her shield maiden out already, to look for traces, a body but they came always empty handed back. And that was maybe the thing that killed her on the inside, the doubt.

She stood there for quite a while, looking how her son fought, how they all fought in training to become the best fighters. She tightened her grip around the sword, walking away from the training grounds back to the great hall. She kept a neutral face over the whole walk, sometimes nodding, other times slowly smiling. But she knew eyes kept following her, waiting for her next step. What would she do? She stopped in the entrance of the great hall and looked over to the both thrones before shifting her attention a farmer with his horse and wooden chariot behind it, pulling a dead sheep. It looked like something bite his way through the animal. Gunnvor her eyes squeezed a little together. She was planning on turning around when a boy passed her, walking out of the great hall, in quite the hurry. Seeing how one of her shield maiden looked over to her, Gunnvor shifted her attention. ‘Wolf attack.’ She explained. ‘One? Or a pack?’ Gunnvor asked, looking after the boy. She knew him, he was a farmer, a friend of her son. But he was so fast gone she couldn’t ask him. The shield maiden just shrugged and Gunnvor looked back to the farmer pulling his dead sheep. Her fingers tapped slightly around the sword for her son before she walked into the great hall, her black loose hair, following the sudden turn of her body as her dress does the same.

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Steinar Sigurdsson
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Age : 51 years old
Place of birth : Skagen

PostSubject: Re: Lone wolves die [Steinar] Thu Dec 28, 2017 9:46 pm

Behind him, Steinar heard how the big wooden doors fell back in their locks when Kettil had left the great hall. From between the curtains he looked if there was somebody else around, before he continued to walk to his personal chamber. It was dark inside the room, just the way he liked it. Slaves used to came in his bedroom, to make his bed and light some candles, but Steinar had made them very clear not to do that anymore. And that was one of the last times he had been really mad at somebody. He had regretted it after, and had given them his apologies. It just had been stronger then himself. His chamber was the only place he had for himself, even Gunnvor and Rigas would leave him alone if he was in there. Because they knew that it was for his own good, to be back in solitude sometimes. His chamber held the secrets from the many years he had spent on his own, many chapters from the story of his life. Steinar bowed down before a big chest that was locked, and took the key that hung on small, long necklace around his neck. With a creaking sound he lifted the lid, and looked at the many things that were partly revealed in the darkness. But there was one thing that caught his eye the most: The wolf fur. The corner of his mouth raised partly as he went with his fingers through the long, grey hair. He remembered how fierce the animal had been, how strong.. how he wanted to rip Steinar’s throat out. And how he put a knife between his ribs and ended his life. How the wolf had whined before it had let out it’s last breath… He pinched the fur and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Steinar inhaled deeply, and when he released the fur, he also released the memory, for now.

At the same time he stepped into the great hall, the doors opened again. He looked up, and saw Gunnvor, just as he expected. She always had a great sense of timing. Steinar placed a gentle smile on his lips as he descended the few stairs in the great hall. His eyes went down to the sword that she was carrying, and he inhaled softly. He knew it was just a sword, but at the same time it was so much more than that. Rigas’ disappearing had moved entire Skagerrak, and this was one of the outcomes of it. Freyr had to take his responsibilities, to secure as well his own as his mother’s leadership. He knew Gunnvor still saw herself partly as an outsider, even after all these years. ”A sword for leaders.” He said calmly, as he already could see the shimmering around the handle from a distance. The resemblance with Rigas’ sword was hard to miss. ”It is a great token, I hope Freyr will know the value of it. And if not, learn it.” Everybody knew Freyr was still young, and even though he was training hard, there were some things only time could learn. Steinar didn’t knew the boy like Gunnvor did, but he completely trusted whatever choice she made. Even is it would affect entire Skagerrak.


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Gunnvor Skaeringsdóttir
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PROFIELMessages : 62
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Age : 37 y/o
Place of birth : Skagen

PostSubject: Re: Lone wolves die [Steinar] Thu Dec 28, 2017 11:26 pm

There's a little bit of devil in the way she looks

A wolf … a lone wolf. Gunnvor looked over to the farmer and his lost cheek, thinking back to a conversation she had with a girl about wolves. About how the lone wolves died but the pack always survived. She looked down to the sword she let made for Freyr, the future pack leader of this village. How much Gunnvor wanted to pull herself back from everything, she didn’t, because they needed to stick together, she needed to keep her friends close and her enemies even closer. For that she couldn’t pull back or she would end as a lone wolf ready to be tear apart by the hungry once. After losing Skagen she learned a thing or two, she was sure the loss Rigas brought would do the same. Well deserved lessons from the gods.

She pushed the door open into the great hall, her green distant eyes traveling up to Steinar coming from behind. Offcourse … if there was one person with the right on handling problems it was Steinar. The gentle smile around his lips wasn’t much but for her always enough. Nobody was more solid then Steinar, what she needed, now more than ever. She looked over her shoulder to the door where the boy left not much earlier. When she looked back he was looking down to the sword and she lifted it up on his hope. ‘Maybe.’ She said in thoughts, turning the sword in the light. ‘It’s all depending on the person wheeling it.’ She followed, shortly smiling while she pulled the sword out of his protection, turning it in her wrist before walking over to Steinar, handing it him so he could look at it. ‘He knows the value,’ she says, looking to the fine steel. ‘yet he still has to learn.’ She finished, gazing over to the flames. ‘A lot of eyes are watching.’ And they weren’t only watching to him, they were equally watching her. She just knew how to handle it. ‘My father give me a dagger, when I was the age Freyr has,’ she whispered, looking up to Steinar. ‘special made for me, same purpose as that sword has.’ She pointed to the sword, stepping away for a cup of water. She still wore that dagger, every day as a way to never forget. ‘I hope it serves him equally as good as that dagger did me.’ She finished. Weapons shouldn’t suppose to be an inspiration. It wasn’t supposed to be inspiring fights, it was supposed to inspiring greatness. Everybody got inspired in different ways, she just hoped Freyr got inspired by both that sword, her support and the loss of his father.

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Steinar Sigurdsson
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PostSubject: Re: Lone wolves die [Steinar] Wed Jan 03, 2018 12:47 pm

He inhaled softly when Gunnvor stepped closer and started to pull the sword out of its case. ”Maybe.” She said, and he looked straight at her, while she was focused on the sword. After all this time, after all these years she still wasn’t sure of everything. ”It’s all depending on the person wheeling it.” The sword glimmered in the few rays of sunlight that entered the great hall through the dirty windows. And then she handed him over the sword. Steinar replaced his eyes from her face towards the sword and felt the cold cling in his hand as he took a firm grip on the handle. A strange feeling ran up through his lower arm as he watched the engraving in the metal. This sword brought power, a power that was deep within it. And for a second it frightened him, to think about how things would end if he was the one wielding the sword. If he was the one with true power, power over the people. Steinar was gazing at the sword when Gunnvor spoke again, and it was like he was being pulled back from a dream. Or was it a nightmare?

”He knows the value, yet he still has to learn.” Steinar nodded when she spoke those words and gently shoved the sword back into the sheath that Gunnvor was still holding. It was like he only was able to think straight again when the sword was out of his sight. ”The Gods are also watching.” He said softly, almost a whisper, tried to push the strange feeling the sword had given him at the same time. ”They know what you have lost, as well as they know how much effort you have put in all of this.” He inhaled as she started to talk about her father, and Steinar felt a little cramp in his heart region. Something he always felt when she was talking about her parents. His parents too, in a certain way. He looked down to the dagger that was hanging around the belt she wore over her dress. Almost the same engravements were to be seen on her weapon. It was something that went through the family. ”I hope it serves him equally as good as that dagger did me.” Steinar searched for her eyes, to give the words he was about to say more strength. ”If you believe in him, so will I. And so will the people.” He placed his hand for one last time on the sheath of the sword and softly pressed it towards her. ”He will not be alone in this, and neither will you.” Steinar looked for her eyes again and felt the soft cramp in his heart slowly disappear. ”If you want me to talk to the boy, about anything, you know you can ask me Gunnvor. I will serve your son as equal as I have served Rigas and now serve you.” He took a deep breath and nodded towards her. It wasn’t a bow, but it was a sign of honesty and loyalty. Gunnvor knew that he would go to the end of the world for her, the only thing she had to do was ask.


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Gunnvor Skaeringsdóttir
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Age : 37 y/o
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PostSubject: Re: Lone wolves die [Steinar] Sat Jan 20, 2018 6:53 pm

There's a little bit of devil in the way she looks

Gunnvor looked down to his hands as he took the sword over from her. As he looked down to it, to the engravements in it she studied his face with slightly squeezed eyes. She recognized many ways of looking, especially Steinar for he was already so long at her side. She couldn’t remember the first time she handed her a sword or the other way around. In some moments time was wrapping them up, leaving them in a timeless gap. There was so much happened in between things that Gunnvor hardly remembered the good. For that she was grateful he was here, the one good things that kept following her around, that served her even through this. She studied his face, guessing the thoughts behind his eyes before she lowered her distinct green eyes to the sword that she made for Freyr. It wasn’t an identic copy to Rigas his sword but it had his power, yet it maintained the soft fragility of the dagger her father gave her once. Merging both her and Rigas in one sword, made to protect the next earl of Skagerrak, Freyr.

As if it wasn’t enough that the villagers were watching the gods were watching to. She looked down to the sword, listening further to his always thoughtful words. She chuckled softly, a chuckle that didn’t mean a thing as she looked up to Steinar. ‘They have a strange way of showing.’ She said, looking back down to the sword. Why were the gods testing her like this? By ripping her away from her village of birth, ripping her away from her parents, ripping her away from her husband. But the Gods always had a strange way in showing things, or a strange way in acting. She could only hope that the Gods kept tormenting her instead of her son because Freyr was the next in line for this throne and he was way to young to carry the burden of a crown, just as he was too young to be burden by the gods themselves. When Steinar looked for her eyes she looked back up to him, generally smiling on his words. ‘I believe in him,’ her words faded as she took the sword back over, looking down over it before she looked back up when he continued. ‘And for that you will have my eternal gratitude.’ She said with a respecting voice. Steinar was all this time around, to support her, to help her and his council was of so much more valuable then any other person around. She laid her hand softly on his under arm, a small nod in appreciation before she putted away the sword and laid it carefully on the table, walking over for a cup of water while he spoke again. She turned around and looked at him as he finished. ‘I know you will.’ She smiled, bringing the cup up to swallow some of the water. ‘Maybe I’m not ready to accept that, that it is Freyr the people with turn to.’ She give in on the unsure feeling following her around. ‘And I don’t know if Freyr would accept that.’ She whispered, more for herself then for him. When she looked up to him she tried to masque the feeling in her bright eyes again as she slowly shifted the subject. ‘The stable boy, what was he here for?’ She asked, pulling her authority back up. Not that she needed to pretend with him, it just became a habit.

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