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djmorn · 3 months

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God that wing care was so good. I love this warlock Tav scenario. I hope you write more of them in the future. Thank you for your work!

Thank you kindly, dear anon, and everyone else for your sweet responses to the ‘Wing Care’ bit.

You know, you are the second person to suggest a continuation of this and when writing it I honestly did not even think that there could be more to this little ficlet but I am very willing to provide. Thanks for the inspiration and giving me opportunity to return to these two yet again.

So here is a part deux for you all who enjoyed the first one. I hope this will serve your ‘pampering the devil’ needs once more.

You arrived home satisfied at a job fulfilled. And fulfilled quite well you might add, granting you the opportunity in feeling pride at your skill as a warlock and an excellent debt collector, the bane of negligent contractors. Raphael was lucky to have taken you under his wing. You smiled at the memory of your meeting in the Devil’s Den. The fiend had been obviously pleased at you taking care of his… damaged goods. It was easy to tell by the way he had been so eager to quickly fill you in on your assignment, the intended reason of his visit.

Now that that had been dealt with you could finally indulge in some relaxation of your own and let yourself fall onto your bed, legs dangling down by the side since you still had your boots on. You shifted to untie the laces when suddenly your gaze fell upon your desk at the edge of your chambers. On it you could spy a parchment and something that looked like a small vial that had not been there when you’d left this morning.

With a sigh you got up again, unable to quench your curiosity. Upon closer inspection you immediately recognised your master’s elegant scrawl:

I HOPE your assignment went well and that my unfortunate debtor has been dealt with accordingly and as I should expect of a warlock in my services. It just so happens that I require them again. As soon as possible. Be sure to bring the vial with you.

See you soon

You squint your eyes at the letter. What could Raphael possibly want now? He did have other warlocks at his disposal, why yet again pester you with more work? After you handling his bruised wings with such care you at least expected him to be a bit more negligent with you with any further missions.

Returning the parchment to your desk again you took a closer look at that vial. Turning it around in your hands you spied a small label attached to the glass. Your Infernal could still use some work but you were sure the text read ‘massage oil’.

The portal took you straight to the House of Hope. Raphael was already awaiting you in the entrance hall.

‘Ah. My dutiful little warlock. How considerate of you to aid my call so soon.’ He spread his hands out wide in welcome. As well as his wings.

You were delighted to see they had returned to their former glory. By the Nine, did the devil heal up fast. Even for a cambion.

As usual you bowed to him respectfully. ‘When my master beckons I answer.’

‘And how wise of you to do so,’ he said. ‘I presume our heedless and pitiful customer has been taken care of?’

‘Just as you wished, Raphael. Yet another poor unfortunate soul added to your gory collection.’

He beamed at you. ‘Good. All the better to move on to your next task with haste. How is your Infernal these days?’

‘Well enough to have read the label on this.’ You held up the vial containing the oil. ‘Although the meaning behind it still escapes me.’

The devil threw you a conspiratorial smirk. ‘Be a good little mouse and make a clever guess.’

‘Well, this is far from the ointment I applied to your wings the other day. And I can see they are bereft of any fissures tonight. Do you want me to force this down some other contractor’s throat to leave them unable to escape a terrible curse of their bowels?’

Raphael chuckled. ‘No, you silly goose,’ he said with amusement. ‘By your enthralling display of care in Sharess’ Caress I’ve come to the realisation that I have been quite negligent of my own comfort and welfare lately. I don’t allow myself to indulge myself as often as I should. After all, you do want your sweet master to stay healthy and vigorous to take care of you, don’t you?’ And he tilted his head questioningly.

‘So,’ you began carefully. ‘You want me to do what now? Do it again but this time make it a proper massage?’

Now Raphael frowned at you and you could feel yourself tensing up at your patron’s patience wearing thin. ‘Is that not far better than sending you out through the mud and undergrowth of a stinking swamp? You should know that the next debtor on my list is quite the hermit.’ He examined his nails languidly. ‘But I guess if the prospect of spending time with me – taking care of your master is such trouble I might as well draft you a map of his abode in just a minute.’

You quickly threw your hands up in defense. ‘No, no, no,’ you said, throwing him a disarming smile. ‘I apologise, Raphael. It’s no trouble at all. I’m just surprised is all.’

His eyes roamed over you, still sparkling with skepticism. ‘Mhmm. All right. Then follow me.’

Raphael led you to his boudoir. You had never been invited inside. Before you unveiled the most lavish bed chambers one could imagine. The middle of the enormous room hosted a steaming bath which the devil approached. Quite obviously he wanted to take the same approach as last time, sitting down together at the edge of the pool while you would work your magic on his wings. Confidently you followed the steps of your patron but came to a sudden stop when he went to remove his belt. With a snap of his fingers his doublet and shirt followed suit. And so it was that the devil you had sworn your loyalty to stood right in front of you, upper body laid bare for you to worship.

‘I figured since you don’t have any fissures and bruises that need taking care of tonight I might offer you some more playroom.’

How very kind of him.

Raphael sat down and pat the space next to him. You heeded his unspoken instruction.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘Do you have everything you need?’

‘Um, yes,’ you said. ‘Only… Where… Where would you like me to start?’

‘Oh, I find myself to be just a little tense in the neck and shoulders. Why don’t you start there and work your way further down, hmm, little mouse?’

‘All right.’ You removed the cork from the vial he’d left you and poured a good bit of the liquid onto your hand, then put the container carefully aside, mindful to not knock it right into the water next to you. Smearing your hands thoroughly with the oil you began to wonder at this admittedly ridiculous situation you had found yourself in. Taking care of your master’s wounds had been an act made out of duty, and Raphael had been so opposed to the idea when you had first suggested it that it now seemed almost dubious of him wanting to return to this scenario again, and so soon at that.

Oh, well. The whims of the infernal, you thought to yourself, then put your hands to your master’s back.

You hadn’t thought it possible but Raphael’s shoulders were indeed quite tense. The way he always carried such an air of confidence about him there had not been a doubt in your mind that his limbs would be more slackened. How he continued to prove you wrong tonight.

Oil coated hands brushed over his warm skin and you let your fingers dig into the parts from where his strong shoulders protruded, massaging him in a way that was a blend of firm and gentle. The sigh coming from the cambion told you it was the perfected mixture.

‘Yes,’ he said, encouraging you on. ‘That feels good. Don’t stop with the shoulder just yet.’

Continuing your attention at his desired spot you could not help but ask: ‘Say, Raphael. I am quite flattered that you would invite me to… do this for you, but I cannot help but wonder why. Why me?’

Of course you knew about his incubus. Raphael knew that you knew. ‘Haarlep is not nearly as talented in the arts of pleasure as they’d have you believe. No, anything that goes beyond one’s carnal needs is out of their expertise. Big hands and claws? No, thank you. This is much better.’

You beamed when Raphael practically purred as your palm found its way towards the back of his neck, rubbing it with care. The oil was dripping and you were in need of replenishment but barely dared to remove your hands from him. Truth be told – with Raphael nothing short from a moaning mess, this massage had turned into quite the sensual ordeal.

‘I’m gonna need some more lotion,’ you said apologetically. ‘Your skin is so warm it pretty much turns the oil into thin air.’

The devil said nothing, patiently waiting for you to reapply the liquid to your loving palms and continue. When you put your hands back onto your master an odd little smile flitted across your lips, satisfied at having him so pliant under your touch.

‘There is nothing that could make me keep you from doing whatever that magic is.’

You bit your tongue wanting to tell him this is what the dirty mortals he thought so beneath him called basic affection, not wanting to risk an outburst of temper and saddened at the thought that he truly just might be unaware.

Finally you moved onto the base of his wings, lovingly curling your thumbs around them, then moving over to massage the joints of his left wing once more.

‘It is incredible how well you’ve healed up. There’s not a bruise to be seen.’

‘My dear, us devils do have a knack for this kind of stuff, you know?’ He paused. ‘Although, I do believe I also have you to thank for it. In parts, of course.’

You thought back on the battles of his youth he’d told you about and wondered if there had been someone there for him too. Taking care of him. This time you dared to breathe your musings to him: ‘Has anyone else done this for you before?’

Raphael was silent again, and for a moment you thought he would simply refuse to answer. Then he gave away a quiet ‘No,’ quickly followed by ‘Just be careful with the skin there, yes? It is a little sensitive still.’

With the tips of your nails you gently caressed the membrane. The wing twitched. But this time not from pain. Maybe Raphael was a bit ticklish?

‘Where did you learn all this?’

‘Well, I have given massages before, you know? Never to someone with wings, mind you. I’m just doing what I think would feel nice.’

‘It does,’ Raphael said. ‘It does feel nice.’

You smiled to yourself again, proud that you could lend him your services as more than a warlock. As you moved on to his right wing you could feel something wrap around your ankle. It was his tail! Holding you tight. Was this something that happened unconsciously with devils? You could not imagine your patron showing his appreciation for your ministrations like that.

Deciding to give it no further thought because you could feel your cheeks blushing you poured out the rest of the massage oil into your palms and went to rub it all over Raphael’s back, eliciting the most delightful groan from your devil. You went on stroking, caressing, and kneading his skin until your hands were all but dry, then you finally removed them from him.

‘Well,’ you said. ‘I guess that’s the rest of the oil.’

The cambion quickly removed his tail from your ankle as if awakening from a strange dream and turned towards you. ‘I’ll make sure to get a bigger bottle next time.’

He drew his hand closer to your face, and lightly brushed his claw along your jaw. ‘Thank you, little mouse. If you should ever find yourself tensed up yourself I might be generous enough to return the favour.’

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my writing #my stuff #request #kinda (sorry for just going off there anon i don't know if this is a bit encroaching on my part lol)#asks #anon #excuse me but the future is NOW anon #anon i am sorry i got carried away

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bagelvangr · 1 year

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Randivor AU where Eivor never leaves Heillboer after the attack and Styrbjorn never gained the influence that he did.

Bear with me, this one needs quite a bit of exposition, I think!

(omfg 6k words, I am SO sorry, I am putting it under a cut. I'M SORRY I posted this at 4:30am and I was definitely already more than half-asleep!!)

–

After the attack, Gunnar speaks up for the clan and is extremely disappointed at how little Styrbjorn’s forces were able to help in a small, nighttime raid. Sure, it was a surprise and they were in the middle of a feast; but it seemed like something a jarl of Styrbjorn’s supposed caliber could have easily fought back against. They are thankful for the help and remain allies, but the trust and the allegiance had been forever fractured.

Gunnar takes guardianship of Eivor and rallied what remained of the bear clan to rebuild their homes.

They gladly do so; healing together as a community. Bound together in helping the remaining heir of their jarl recover from her vicious wounds; swearing to become stronger and self-reliant and never being taken by surprise ever again.

Eivor grows up learning the harsh truth of the world around her; the realities that faced their clan and the turmoil that grew all around Norway. She never bid for the jarl’s seat, she never had ambition to play as a leader in a seat.

Unspoken, everyone in Heillboer had no doubt that the seat was all Eivor’s. They don’t contest her claim at any point, nor do they force her to be the central ruler. Neither Gunnar nor Svala or anyone else that survived that night ever tried to place that burden upon the Wolf-Kissed. They were far too busy taking care of each other and building up what was lost.

When she was old enough to understand all that a longhouse and a jarl and the lineage of her birth implied; Eivor made the final decision to keep Heillboer to be defined as the clan. The bears at the north of Rygjafylke; rebuilt and strengthened by the trials put upon them in a treacherous world.

The scar of the wolves remain, but the call of the Allfather never truly awakens within her. The need for vengeance ran deep, and in her darkest moments, she faltered and thought of how to grant justice for all the wrongs done at the hands of others. She often found solace at the peak of Fannaraki Summit, a place she visited often to look upon their small settlement and to the seas just beyond their docks. She loved to climb and meditate for hours. To look all around and see the craggy fjords and how the snow remained undisturbed inland.

She knew that just eastward were where wolves had started to settle. She knew that Kjotve had built up a fortress right where their lands and Egdafylke bordered. She knew that the wolves were weakening with each season and harsh winter that went by, and if she so wished; she could end the lineage of an entire clan with a single night of battle by herself.

Eivor knew all of this and thought of it often when she sat at the top of the world. But with plenty of sighs and hours of stacking cairns in the memory of her parents – with the patience of her mother and the strength of her father; she always found herself climbing down and making her way back to Heillboer more resolute to never shed blood when there was home to go back to.

Patience and strength were what her parents imparted upon her.

Gunnar raised her to be dutiful, loyal, to build her own merit in the world. Svala had raised her to be tactful, wise, and kind.

A selfish need for vengeance endangered all of the core values that she built for herself and would have brought nothing but misery to the clan she sought to protect, and one that cared for and cultivated her unique strengths in return.

She had given up the longhouse for the whole of the clan, having settled in a small dwelling for herself close to the cave where she used to explore and play with her father and train with her mother.

Her efforts were focused on securing the safety of her people as Rygjafylke and Hordafylke grew more and more unstable; avoiding conflict in an increasingly bloodthirsty world and keeping a low profile as to not draw the attention of those seeking glory in or out of Norway. Their position at the border meant that she was able to intercept trade routes and secure exotic goods in trade for their artisan wares and rare cures, courtesy of Gunnar’s forge and the unmatched, sagacious knowledge of their young seer; inherited from the all-knowing Svala.

Slowly, more and more settlements and travelers learned of Heillboer. More and more sought a formal alliance with the clan of bears; once unable to do so for the lack of offering to secure such an alliance, many started to realize that there was no such fealty or lavish offering needed in return.

The bears had found wealth in forging their bonds amongst their clan and power in truly sharing what gave them strength: a community at the heart of Norway, driven by impressive frith and unburdened with ambition.

Eivor was their center, their beacon, their strength; but she was not the sole pillar they relied on. She strengthened them in every way, and they strengthened her in a way not easily emulated by others in a fundamentally different mindset.

Randvi had never really liked politics either.

Being the daughter of a jarl, however, it was something she could not easily avoid. Her father would plead with her and make her sit and study the long sessions he held with his advisors in the war room of their grand longhouse.

The reindeers were not a clan that could boast strength; but cunning and strategy led them to accumulate riches that afforded them more stability and power that a small clan could dream of.

Randvi, at any point in these political discussions would have gladly rather been practicing with her bow, fishing, hunting, sparring with her sister, her brother, the many vikingr training and preparing for their expeditions.

They enjoyed their fairly quiet life at Tromøya, taking advantage of their position between the Danes and Geats to diversify their economy despite their small seat in the larger picture of Egdafylke.

At one point; Randvi’s father had been more concerned about seeking alliances. In the great era of Ragnar’s travels, it became apparent that the divide in Norway meant that there were two paths to the survival of a clan: Those who wielded brute strength and sought glory turned vikingr to follow in Ragnar’s path; seeking other lands across the sea to settle as their own. Those that remained saw the opportunity in a fractured Norway, taking up the void in power to absorb clans and lands into their own. To survive was to find and secure strong alliances.

When Randvi was just about to be of age to be involved in these talks was when she started rebelling against her father’s wishes. She was the youngest and the most cherished out of her siblings, and her father had a particular weakness to her wishes. Whenever she happened to have been requested to accompany her father in so-called innocent travels to meet other jarls, Randvi would conveniently end up in a multi-day hunt or a week-long fishing trip on her boat. Her siblings would join and her mother encouraged her – though she did it to escape having to sit through politics and hearing men who barely cared to understand her or her family barter her future and potential away, she always came back with plenty of spoils. Whether it was hunted game, an abundance of fish, securing new trade routes or finding new cultures to send over to their island, Randvi still made sure her actions benefitted her family and her clan.

It was a habit that persisted into her adulthood. The conflicts in Rygjafylke had calmed and the vikingr came about less often, but her father still kept on meeting with those in the seats around them to better their relations. It shouldn’t have surprised her to hear that in one of these travels, her father had actually come quite close to securing an alliance with a jarl in Rygjafylke; the ravens of Fornburg were quite receptive to her father’s proposals. In particular, the jarl’s son had shown a hefty interest in the diversity of the travelers her father had told them frequented their harbours. The ravens did not have as much strength as they did before; the turmoil of the previous years getting to them too; in particular, they had trouble with the wolves and lost the alliance of most of the northern part of their border. But they were still a potential ally that held strong ties to the seat in Stavanger.

Randvi disappeared for almost two moons after learning the news.

She had taken to travel inland, seeking isolation from the circumstances of her birth, seeking connection with others in the smaller settlements leading up to the mountains. At one point, she saw a grand peak and took it upon herself to climb up there; not really caring for the harshness of the winter causing the snow to pile up and ignoring the constant burning in her limbs as she made her way up the steep, jagged rocks.

At the peak, she found serenity and silence. An impressive array of cairns were balanced right at the perfect flat surface; facing a small village at the end of the endless valley below.

She was not the only one to find this place and take a refreshing breath away from the turmoil of everything else.

It was almost nighttime when she decided to finally descend. The sky had been lit by a fantastic river of greens and blues, specked by the occasional purples and reds. The gods would light her way down.

She had told no one but Kiarr where she was going; which meant that if anyone else knew of her whereabouts, it would be Thora, who would encourage her to find her own way instead of be bound to the wills of their father.

So when Randvi returned to Tromøya, it was with great surprise she could not suppress when she heard that Thora had agreed to an alliance that her father had secured.

And not to the ravens, but to the wolves close to the region she had just spent her time sulking away at the prospect of being tied to a man – to politics, to strategize, advise, to build and protect and not be thanked.

Thora only smiled at her and reassured her that it was completely her choice; that she had wanted to bring stability and power to their seat too, and that perhaps this was what would stabilize and give respect to the reindeer once and for all.

So in the following years when Kiarr had ended up leaving Tromøya; when Thora had suddenly reappeared in their longhouse again; when their father spent nights apologizing to his children and their mother giving comfort and promising them they would never need to fulfill any duties to their clan ever again; Randvi steeled herself and swore that she would not play the game of politics.

The fragile jarls of Norway could have their power grabs and petty wars; the reindeers and her family would find stability in ventures not involving strife and blood.

She doubled her efforts in listening more to what happened around the harbour; to the tales being regaled in the taverns, to the fleeting conversations of key movements of armies and traders all around the Nordic world.

Thankfully, it seemed that their only threat would be if the Danes decided to launch an attack onto them; but it seemed as if they were more preoccupied with exploring new lands beyond the seas to think of invading and attacking their neighbours.

Slowly, they grew more stable, but she was also aware of the growing influence of Harald in the north and how he was making his intent to rule all of Norway by allying or absorbing each clan he came across.

The reindeer found themselves in a strange position of safety; her father being a cousin of Harald’s own father, thereby related to a degree. There was a small sense of comfort that the Yngling’s first target would not necessarily be the reindeers.

They weren’t fools though, and Randvi had grown to be quite the tactician with all of the information she was able to gather. Her rebellious streak and desire to partake in activities that other nobles cared little for made her popular with the other clan members and she carried an easy, charismatic relationship with almost all of the merchants that frequented their island with trade.

She knew that even if they didn’t seek any official alliances and even if they were willing to let Harald take official rule of their land; they had no guarantees under the new rule and far too much ambiguity about resolving disputes between clans to not at least attempt to bolster their connections with the borders they held.

To the east was already Harald’s territory, and to the west was Rygjafylke; so to the west it was.

The wolves were no longer an option, having quite a history with her siblings. There were the ravens which never officially denied or absolved the possibility of an alliance; but from what she heard, Fornburg had less influence over their region now, especially with the son of the jarl perpetually away in other lands. It was more likely that the ravens would be enthusiastically absorbed into Harald’s plan than be interested in allying with another smaller clan in a unified Norway.

That left really one clan within their borders, and it was definitely one that intrigued her.

Just beyond the summit she remembered so clearly in her mind was the settlement of the bear clan.

Randvi had heard frequent tales of the bears and of Heillboer. They came off more as fantastical sagas; myths that could not possibly be. The bear clan held stability and influence and were able to fend off attempts of absorption by far more powerful clans without a jarl to lead them through it all.

But Randvi knew. She listened. She observed and made the connections. She knew of the Wolf-kissed. She knew about the tragedy that befell and nearly wiped the small settlement. She knew that although the bears claimed no jarl, that they would follow the Wolf-kissed to the ends of the earth, but that they would never be asked to carry such a burden.

The Wolf-kissed held a soft power that was far more impressive than any amount of bannermen could ever rally.

It was an unbreakable claim of frith; a community that truly held each other together.

If there was to be stability within the reindeers in the change to come in Norway, they had to approach it with as little visibility and as much subtlety as possible. They didn’t need a show of strength or to hold a large region. No, they needed alliance and true connections with a clan that understood and fundamentally operated in much the same as their own.

Randvi would approach her father and suggest they seek an alliance, much to the jarl’s (and the rest of her family’s) surprise. They were all left stunned when she further explained that she sought to approach the bear clan without a show of force.

The jarl would consider Randvi's suggestion. He was skeptical of the benefits and the truth of the myths. Surely a clan so well known as being without a leader would have been overtaken by another and forcibly absorbed into their own. He would be careful.

Four fine warriors and two of their most knowledgeable ledgers would make journey into the mountainous path. They would bring rare metals found in the exotic trades made between Rus and the Celts. They would bring fine herbs and crops only found in climates far warmer than their own. Surely the winters had been harsh on them as well.

He expected them to come back with new information, but he was not prepared for them to return in jovial spirits, regaling the longhouse with tales of a lone warrior that hunted and fended for their clan. The same warrior was mentioned again and again as the ones to assess the new party and introduce them to the variety of trade that existed there.

The same warrior that caught the favour of Ran and Njord, the abundance of fish they caught despite the frigid waters almost mythical in the way they told it.

It was not said explicitly, but the jarl already knew that this warrior was the one who took the seat of leader with the bears. Why they never took the title of jarl was a mystery he wanted to find out.

Randvi, ever the observant one, caught and analyzed every word. She was pleased to have her suspicions confirmed.

The crew that were sent to Heillboer were a fine bunch, but she had also heard of small raids and attacks in the villages in-between; the wolves in turmoil with their own and with others that passed through. Many were desperate and a decorated yet minimal crew from a clan known for their rich trade should not have passed so effortlessly.... would not have passed so effortlessly. She had heard of a lone warrior patrolling the mountains and the borders, allowing for the safe passage of those on the trade routes without their knowledge.

Putting it together, she concluded that it must be the same person. The one that refused the official title of jarl ensured the prolonged safety of their people, and assured the safe passage of the members of her clan.

For the next stage of her plan, she surprised her father yet again by offering to go by herself.

She did not surprise Thora or her mother when they learned that she had not even waited for the permission of the jarl; having immediately set out the night before with the help of someone that looked suspiciously like Kiarr.

It started off slow.

Randvi allowed herself to be selfish in her lone trek. The weather had been fair, and while there had been storms in the moons before, the sun was more forgiving on her way to Heillboer.

She had indulged herself and made her way up beyond a lake and onto the same peak she had been at years before. She knew that the trek down into the settlement in the distance would not take her more than half a day, but she felt strangely empty handed as she finally saw the longhouse in her line of sight.

When she made her way down from the summit, she prepared her bow as she approached the tree line, keeping an eye on any game that might be small enough for her to carry alone and present as a gift. Actual reindeer had been abundant in the area, grazing on the new green exposed by a small patch of sunlight melting the snow away.

She gauged that the settlement had to be fairly close; she was nearly level with the sea where she was at. Feeling like she had quite a bit of energy still, she set her ambition a little higher and tracked a juvenile reindeer – one that she would likely have a little trouble carrying by herself, but not so much that it would encumber her and prevent her from presenting the kill as a gift as she arrived into the town.

Carefully moving through the rocks and avoiding making too much noise in the crunching snow, Randvi took aim and shot an arrow straight into the neck of her prey. Unfortunate timing meant that the animal had turned its head slightly before the arrow pierced, so it was not a clean kill. Randvi would quickly fire off another arrow, but as good of a shot as she was, she couldn’t predict the movements of a thrashing, panicked animal.

The second arrow dug itself into the back of the reindeer and it ran off into the crag away from her view.

Having scared off all the others, Randvi knew she had to track it and at the very least not prolong its suffering. It seemed to have gone uphill, but at least it went in the general direction of Heillboer instead of away. Perhaps she had a chance still of arriving with a gift.

Eivor had found it all quite amusing. She had been sat at the hill close to Valka's when she noticed someone she had never seen before passing through the eastern crag. They had their bow held the ready, eyes scanning the grazing herds. She assumed she was looking for a target that would be easy to carry. She didn't see a horse or any companions with the woman.

When she had crouched low by the rocks, Eivor was skeptical that her shot would land. The reindeer she had set her eyes on were quite far and slightly uphill from where this hunter was.

It surprised her that when she fired an arrow, it not only connected solidly into the animal's neck, but the hunter was also able to quickly adjust her aim when the reindeer started to move.

Even though it was not a swift one shot kill, she would have expected any other hunter to have completely miss when the reindeer started to move.

She kept watching, the skill displayed fully catching her attention. She witnessed a second shot swiftly sent off as the reindeer rounded the rocks; and though she expected yet another miss here, she raised an impressed eyebrow when the second arrow pierced the back of the prey.

The animal had escaped the hunter's line of sight, but she had shown great skill already. Whoever this was had years of experience with a bow and was not someone to be underestimated.

From her vantage, she tracked the staggering animal as it made its way around the rough hills, all the while tracking and observing the hunter getting closer and closer to Heillboer.

It was hard to fully assess her from the distance, but Eivor could note fine, thick furs, an embroidered caplet and a subdued but tastefully decorated overtunic that did not bother to hide status to those who knew.

The spark of fire in her hair made it easy for Eivor to spot her in the backdrop of the white snow and black rocks; and as she made her way to the injured animal, she made a mental note to get to know the hunter a bit more if their paths crossed.

If they were half a good of a tracker as they were an archer, then Eivor was convinced they'd cross paths.

And so they did.

When Eivor first turned around, she had been in the middle of digging out the arrowhead in the reindeer's spine.

She expected to have to explain herself and say that she had no intent on stealing the hunter's kill, but she was surprised to observe that the hunter had no malice or wariness in their voice or demeanour.

The hunter stood relaxed, watching Eivor as she spoke. The hunter's clothes definitely did tell her that this was someone born into wealth, not necessarily someone she'd expect to have such prowess with a bow.

Curious of all, the way she spoke almost made it seem like she had planned for Eivor to have seen her to begin with.

Of course, to Randvi, that would have been the ideal situation. She made no attempts at concealing herself on her path to Heillboer. She made no attempts at hiding her status or her skills. She had expected to arrive into the settlement without any fanfare, but her ideal situation was actually close to unfolding right in front of her.

Randvi wanted Eivor to see her. She wanted Eivor be able to have enough time to be aware of her and gauge her skills as she hunted. She wanted to make the Wolf-kissed curious about her, and if she was being honest, there was a part of her that wishes she had found herself in danger with either bandits or with predators in the area just so she could see how the Wolf-kissed would react. Would she be left to her own devices? Would she be assessed in her ability to fend off danger? Would the Wolf-kissed jump in and help her without context on who she was? She knew she would be safe, but she wanted to experience the tales of the Wolf-kissed first hand.

How much would Eivor actually be able to tell about her just from these observations alone?

Eivor, to her credit, was able to tell quite a bit. She confirmed the details she noticed from afar.

Thick, clean furs. A fine capelet and finer embroidery on her over tunic. A small hatchet on her side, holstered in artisan leatherwork. The hunter's hands were exposed to the air, a handful of cloudberries in her palm. Braided red hair framed her face; the warm sun and the glow of the mostly undisturbed snow around them giving Eivor a brilliant chance to get captured in blue-green eyes that showed confidence and relaxed amusement. This woman was not threatened by their interaction, but clearly did not underestimate Eivor's capabilities.The hand that remained at her side playing at another holstered weapon Eivor had not yet had a chance to identify.

When their gaze met, Eivor found an equally analytic warrior looking straight at her with no attempt to hide what she had been doing.

There was a sense of knowing and familiarity there.

To both of them, they didn't feel like strangers meeting for the first time. It didn't feel like they needed to guard or hide themselves to each other or feel like they had to leverage status or make small talk about politics a d trade.

Eivor launched immediately into asking why Randvi had been travelling alone when their clan's party had just departed the settlement not a fortnight past. Randvi asked how Eivor knew she was in the same clan as them and Eivor could only respond with a genuine smile and the reply of, "They spoke rather highly of you".

Randvi smiled at that and replied right back, "I'm sure it's nothing compared to what I hear of you".

Randvi's expedition was well received in Heillboer. She would find all of her doubts about the myth surrounding the settlement and the bear clan to be cleared away. They thrived without a show of force because they made no claims to what was not theirs and because they relied on each other in times of hardship.

Eivor had ended up carrying the reindeer back into the settlement upon her own insistence and the clan members at the longhouse happily received it.

Randvi noted the lack of throne and grand chambers and let herself truly understand the implication of a self-ruling community.

She would spend the rest of winter in Heillboer, at first happily staying in the longhouse to observe all of the comings and goings of the clan and how they resolved their issues amongst their peers.

She would go on hunts and fishing trips with Eivor, who frequently invited her along for any and all activity.

It should have alarmed her how easily she felt she slotted into their community and into the companionship of Eivor, but she realized that this was exactly how a clan without a jarl would be able to survive so long.

The genuine connection had multiplied into magnitudes she did not even realize until she found herself hiking with Eivor one day to Fannaraki Summit.

She had learned that Eivor, much like herself, found no value in ambitious glory and making alliances with clans that would be as eager to drive a blade into your gut as they are to forge so-called bonds in a single night.

Randvi had understood all of a sudden as she sat next to Eivor carefully stacking stones and talking about what she remembered of her mother that she truly had no need to propose an alliance to Eivor or the bear clan. She realized that Eivor and the rest of Heillboer had been measuring her merit as a person from the moment they met her.

As she handed a rock over to Eivor to slowly and carefully balance on the stack, Randvi truly understood that she had been accepted before she even knew many in the clan. She knew that Eivor had assessed her from a distance and decided to befriend her before taking her to the rest of the bears. Randvi realized that perhaps she wanted to come alone because she wanted to know how she would be perceived if she presented herself as genuinely as possible instead of someone that had something beneficial to obviously offer the clan.

She knew that Eivor had accepted her. Knew that if they ran into trouble, she would protect her. Knew that she met everyone that she did because Eivor's company calmed any anxiety around a stranger walking in their community. She knew that they would all treat her with the same respect they did now no matter if Eivor was around or not, but it certainly was in her favour that Eivor took a liking to her so early. Randvi knew that an alliance would not need to be made official here.

Still, as Randvi listened to Eivor's retelling of her memories, of her parents, of a Heillboer from before, the more Randvi wanted to hear even more of the Wolf-kissed's history. At some point in her stay, she became less concerned about joining their clans together and what that could imply and found herself wanting to hear Eivor talk about anything and everything.

Randvi wanted to share herself too; to let Eivor know of her past and her family and her way of viewing the world around them. She hoped Eivor mirrored her want to know of each other and craved to listen as she did; even to spend time quietly alone together as she did.

Later on, when Randvi asks if she could stay anywhere else in Heillboer that wasn't the longhouse, Eivor would not hesitate to invite her to her home and Randvi was eager to accept.

When Thora arrived at the dock a moon later, she felt no surprise to see Randvi and Eivor approach together.

What did surprise her and what she pressed her sister on was the fact that they came out of Eivor's single room dwelling together. That they retired for the day at the same time as each other and went back at the same dwelling. That when one or the other went out to sail or fish or even go for a small walk, it was nearly always with each other.

It seems that relations between their clans had successfully been secured and her baby sister was enjoying the time in freedom of doing what she wanted with the security of not having to sneak around or feel as is she was being improper or endangering her family and the clan.

Thora was perceptive in her own right and while she was relieved she didn't have to protect her baby sister; she saw clear as day how subtly protective Eivor was of Randvi. She did feel slightly neglected when it was clear that Randvi preferred to spend her time with Eivor instead of her. She understood, of course, and the implications filled her heart with warmth and joy, she couldn't help but call out and tease Randvi about her new found passion.

To both of the reindeer women's surprise, Eivor did not shy away or get flustered by the topic; confirming without a doubt how she felt and what she wished for their clans and for her own personal relationship with a certain hunter that caught her attention so many months before.

Though she had yet to meet the rest of their clan and they had yet to come up with a plan on how to take on the dangers that faced them in the future of their country and beyond, Eivor made it very clear that her intent was for both of their clans to be intertwined and prosper, grow and expand together in more ways than one and on levels from personal to the dreaded political.

They would face the hardships of relentless winter storms, of social turmoil with their neighbours, with attempted raids on their lands keeping their physical prowess sharp and ready. They would face decisions they couldn't been to anticipate at where they stood then, but it was very clear.

The reindeer of Tromøya had found unity, solidarity, and an unbelievable match in values with the bears of Heillboer.

The future of Norway remained uncertain, but their two clans would find stability, peace, and safety in the years to come.

#randivor #eivor x randvi #randvi x eivor #eivor varinsdottir #randvi #ahhh my heart #I love them #it's been so long #I had to stop myself from working on this more #otherwise it would no longer be a speedpaint lol #randivor in norway au #honestly just another version of the randivor historic winter au #but make it 9th century #I got a little bit carried away with the au summary too #I had to stop myself from writing out a draft of the whole story #how different would their lives have been #what would fate make of them to bring them together yet again #and of course #for the 819038901283096th time these two hoes do be falling in-love AGAIN #anyways this somehow didn't end up having as much Randivor as I wanted?????#even though it's so long #sorry for any typos #I literally wrote all this on my phone #and I am extremely tired #sorry if there is a random word or sentence that didn't make sense lol #ac valhalla #ac: valhalla #assassins creed valhalla #assassin's creed valhalla #eivor wolfkissed

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