A Whole Bunch of Loki's

Draugr - Part One - The Husband

(You wished for something inspired by Dracula?

Well, here you go my hungry little ones.)

It had proved to be a long and arduous day; the crops had grown in well this year and it had taken many hours to harvest and prepare the ones for selling.

Uncle Alver had been hard to crack the whip to make sure everything was prepped and carted by sundown so he could set off in the morning, lugging his stock to sell to surrounding villages for a bit of extra coin.

I was glad to finally be able to relax for the evening, especially as I had the next day to myself, a needed rest for my sore arms.

"You're buildin' muscle," Uncle had grinned, backhanding my already sore arms, "ya'll 'ave everyone swoonin' if ya keep it up."

I could only grit my teeth and give him a pained smile in response, my muscles now throbbing at his enthusiastic encouragement.

Even hours later, as I said in the village tavern with a tankard clutched between my hands, I could still feel the worsening stiffness in my biceps. Father said it'd take me a few months to reach the peak I'd need for the muscle stiffness to wane, until then I would have to grin and bear it while working through.

"Keep kneading yourself like that and you'll be ready to bake in a couple minutes."

Snapping from my daydreaming, I looked at the barkeep with raised eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, pardon?"

He nodded towards my arm, his salt and pepper beard touching his chest as he did so.

"You nervous 'bout something? You're sure working your muscles there."

"Oh," I said, looking at my arm before adjusting my position and resting my hands atop the counter, "I am fine, thank you."

He gave me another nod in response then turned away to the patron a few seats down from me, giving me the opportunity to pick up my drink and find seating elsewhere.

It wasn't that I disliked that particular barkeep, it was more that I wasn't feeling in the most sociable mood and my usual night company wasn't on shift.

No one seemed to pay me any mind as I weaved around the tables, being mindful of the unintentional jostles from over rambunctious patrons in the middle of re-enacting their latest traveling tale.

Luckily, I managed to make it to a table in the back with only a few drops of my drink lost down someone's collar or on the floor, something that I would consider a win, especially as the man hadn't seemed to notice and didn't wish to pick a fight with me that I would surely lose.

I may have height and litheness on my side, giving me a small edge in dodging attacks with my nimbleness compared to his stocky build, but I would still be considered scrawny and thin enough to be taken out with a single punch from his beefy fist.

The thought sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine and I found myself glancing towards him as I sidled into my new seat, trying to pick up if he had noticed the new wet patch.

Now that I was securely in my seat, I doubted that he would pick up that I was the cause and thus felt considerably more secure in staying there for a couple more drinks.

My intention was the whittle away time by people watching.

It was always fascinating to see the kinds of people who would pass through the village, they always added a flare of excitement to an otherwise quiet and small place.