Blessed by the Gods

Unwanted Visitor

In the great hall, the Kings had begun a duel and when at last the festivities came to the life one might expect when a King invites another to his home, all celebrated, dances, sang, and drank more than any normal human could handle.

Both Queens amused themselves with the performances of the slaves while the men preferred to drink and fight one another to show off their skills. The evening grew dark and deep into the night the bright lights of the hall lit the sky around the King's house. Cheers and laughter filled the air throughout the town as the guests enjoyed themselves.

All but Ivar, who had taken in the words of his future wife. Though his brother distracted him with slaves and drinking, every second beat of his heart seemed to not belong to him, as if taken from another person and planted in his chest.

The next day, the sun had risen high into the sky when the first guests fought to stand up, put on their clothes and return home. Both kings had fallen asleep with drinking horns in their hands and the arm still sticking out to battle the opposite king in friendship.

While all the world around still slept, Rùna bathed and ate breakfast by herself, in the quiet of her own room. That terrible night had torn on her, dragged her through one story after another, leading her no closer to the man of her visions, the great warrior that stood before his men and led them to battle, to war and to victory.

Her body shook from the cold that crept through the window and the draught it created when someone opened the door and entered the room. Without asking her permission, the person sat at the table, a plate before them, given by the slaves, and began to eat.

They both sat in silence, unwilling to speak as they preferred the quiet. Only when they had finished their meals did the intruder clear his throat. "You did not enjoy the fest, did you?"

Rùna placed the voice as Ivar, but it did not interest her much, other than his intrusion on her privacy. She left her chair and walked around the table to where Ivar sat. Placing herself on his lap, she glared at him, in her cold way, not sure if what she faced was his face, but her gaze did not point at anything in particular anyway. "You may enjoy the fest, seeing people dance, drink, or fuck, but I prefer the quiet. When no one stares at me, or demands I bless them. They hope for me to see their future. Neither does my gift work this way, nor does their fate interest me-" The blood in her veins froze as the realisation of her touching Ivar sank in. Opposed to the Queen the previous day, and any other person she had electrocuted with a single touch, or at least shocked a bit, he did not feel any such thing. Neither did she, as usually her skin would tense up and the hair rise.

With that realisation, she tried to jump off his lap, but Ivar wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. "Then tell me what you want to do and we shall do it" His warm fingers brushed over her cheek, leaving slight traces as her skin reflected the touch with shimmer. "I want to know you," his voice reached her ear just as his lips brushed over her neck, "so tell me"