#the snow was up to my knees it was legit snowy

[abirddogmoment]

winter solstice walk in the deep deep snow

[jellybeansarecool]

18, 21 and 31 for the weird asks 😁?

Oooo, thanks for the ask!

18. Ideal weather?

A day where it's warm enough to wear a t-shirt and shorts and go barefoot, where the sun is out but not too hot, and the clouds are scattered through the sky gently moving on their way with the breeze; a day where you can just as easily go hiking, swimming, and kayaking as you can sit in a sunbeam and read a book. OR A day where the wind is blowing and your clothes are pulled tight against your skin from the force of it, and there's a smattering of rain but it's not too cold and it doesn't matter because you know you don't have anywhere to be if you do get wet and the noise of the elements pushes all thoughts from your brain and you feel ALIVE. (A snowy day where everything is coated in white and the flakes are falling softly to the ground without a sign of a cold wind and you can crunch beneath snow layered trees and toss snowballs at your brothers before heading inside for a hot drink next to the fire with a book and a quiet evening as the snow flutters pass the windows is also pretty magical).

21. Obsession from childhood?

So many! Swimming (I'd cry if I couldn't go to practice, lol); Stories of all shapes and sizes (you'd find me in trees, in grassy paddocks, in the car on the way to practice, in bed, on the couch, on the deck, etc etc all with my nose in a book 😆); Tintin (I once read so much that when I looked up everything looked like comic panels - Tintin was one of, if not the first, of my earliest fictional crushes); and Scooby Doo (I legit had three murals painted on the walls of my room of the characters and the mystery machine [thanks, ma] and a stuffed Scooby that even today would be bigger taller than my knees).

31. What outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

Oooo, I had to think hard about this one. You've made me realize that I've let the unrelenting presence of my studies (plus the grungy no effs given style of the city I live in) sap me of buying and wearing clothes that make me feel like I'm ready to take on the world. Now that's something I want to change! But if I really thought about it, probably a pair of slightly heeled ankle boots, jeans, white belt, tight spaghetti-strapped tank (or loose black sleeveless shirt), a watch, silver ring, cross, and ear cuff, with a braid and eyeliner (and glasses so I can actually see who's ass I'm kicking 🤣).

[that-one-companion-cube]

Viking’s Vendetta

A hooded figure walked through the snowy streets of Reykjavik, A scarf covered their face to guard them from the cold from being so far north. The imprints on the snow left from their boots were stained with blood and dirt, bloodstained hands clutching a dagger that reeked of metallic blood. The person in question was on their way to see someone, they required intel that only that person had.

“At it again, Narra…” the familiar gruff voice of Narra’s father echoed. “Pabbi… I don’t wanna go see it!” the young girl cried, earning a sigh from her father. “I know, the wound is still fresh, but I made a promise to her-"

The memory cut off once she arrived, opening the door to the small shop. “Halló? Ástrós?” Narra called out before hearing shuffling from the back room. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m in here,” Ástrós responded, hearing as Narra walked through the shop to see her cousin. “Is that hunter dead?” Ástrós asked, turning to Narra after stepping off the wooden stool she was using to place an item on a shelf. “I should hope so, I did stab him,” was the response given as the taller female took off the cloak and scarf, “We’ll need to clean these,” she commented. Lose strands of golden blonde hair stuck to her face, stained with sweat, blood and condensation. “Maybe you should sit down and relax, you know where the living room is,” her cousin spoke with a small smile. Narra nodded and walked through, “I’m getting changed first.”

Narra walked up to her room and turned to the mirror, yes, she had the usual humour, but she felt a shell of the person she once was, she never felt complete. Dull blue eyes, once so lively, stared back at her. She let out a sigh and walked to the bathroom, hoping to be able to take a bath first.

“Pabbi! Pabbi! Please no! Don’t lock me up!” a nine-year-old Narra cried, kicking and screaming as her father dragged her to the village dungeons. “You will stay locked up until you learn to behave! Your mother is so disappointed in you!” the man screamed back. “Mamma died years ago,” she spoke softly, whimpering as her father threw her into the cell and locked the door. “Yes, and you prevented me from saving her from that damned fire!” the man shouted before walking off.

Narra got out of the tub and quickly dried herself off before dressing herself in trousers and a loose-fitting linen shirt. She quickly slipped on her boots before walking down to see Ástrós. “Well look who finally decided to join me,” the blonde spoke with a smirk, putting down the book she was reading. “Was that book imported from England?” Narra asked, sitting down. Ástrós hummed in response before standing up. “Would you like a drink?” she asked, pulling out two goblets as she already knew the answer. Narra nodded, making her cousin smile. “I managed to lay my hands on some Italian red wine, I know how much you like that stuff,” Ástrós spoke with a giddy smile as she handed one of the goblets to Narra before sitting back down and taking a sip. “Anyway, I was wondering when you were planning on returning to Norway,” she inquired as she raised the goblet to her lips for another sip. “What’s it to you?” Narra joked with a small chuckle, “But no, all jokes aside, I will be returning on the occasion that my father is on his death bed, I mean, somebody’s gotta take over after the old man dies,” she said before clearing her throat. “Yes, provided that nobody finds out that you’re a bastard.” “I doubt that’d happen, I look like my mother.” “Still… might happen…” Ástrós pointed out, she was worried about her cousin. “They can’t legally take the throne away from me anyway, my father used my mother’s surname.” “Fair enough.” The two would continue to chatter until they bid each other goodnight.

“Is she still breathing?” someone asked, the voice unfamiliar. The young girl opened her eyes slowly, quickly closing them from the sunlight outside that had seeped in through the curtains. “Ow…” she whimpered quietly as she sat up, groaning softly in agony. “Nei, you need to rest…” the voice began to become clearer, and the girl recognised it as her aunt’s. Narra huffed and laid back down, her entire body felt stiff as it stung. “The fire… you were burnt. You’re okay, your father is trying to search for any other survivors before they begin the rebuild,” her aunt spoke softly. “Auntie Petra? H… how long have I been asleep for?” Narra asked, she was frightened out of her mind. “Two weeks, don’t worry, you’re fine…”

Narra woke up the next morning and walked out to check if they had received any mail. She took the envelopes that were placed on the windowsill and flipped through them quickly before noticing one with the stamp of the Norwegian royal family. The letter was addressed to her, so she opened it, silently praying that it was her father’s advisor saying that he was either deathly ill or severely wounded. She read the letter carefully, a smile slowly growing as she would read more of the text that had been written. Her father had been assassinated by one of his own government officials, meaning that she needed to get home ASAP. “Ástrós! I’m going to be queen!” she yelled out, causing the Icelander, who was still in bed and asleep, to scream and fall out of bed from shock, mainly at the sudden loudness. “Wait, what?” she yelled, running out to see a giddy Narra. “Do you need me to polish the saddle on your Pegasus?” Ástrós asked as she crossed her arms. “That would be preferred, boats take too long.” “Fair enough. Oh, and good to see you smiling again…”

“Perhaps we can come to an agreement.” “An agreement? Are you insane Harald? Wait, I get it, you don’t want to marry your daughter off to my sone when she comes of age… I should’ve known… you WILL regret this!” the mysterious man who had been speaking with Harald for the past hour had stormed out of the house. Harald noticed Narra sitting on the stairs, hugging her knees to her chest. “Nachie? What are you doing up, your mother’s asleep, you know how she gets when you stay up late.” He spoke softly as he picked up his daughter. “Pabbi? Who was that?” Narra asked, clinging to Harald tightly. “A friend, don’t worry, you’re staying here with us.”

Narra took a step onto Norwegian snow for the first time in over a decade, walking through the maze of people coming to attend the funeral ceremony of the late King Harald. Through the crowd, she noticed a familiar face before scowling. She watched the man leave to her father’s study.

“He wants control over Norway, I want to unify it.” Harald explained to his daughter after placing her in her bed gently and tucking her in. He gently reached over and tucked a strand out of Narra’s face, smiling softly at her. But their peaceful moment didn’t last long, as they heard the horrified cries and pleas of the village people.

Narra followed the man to the study, pulling out her dagger, hiding it up her sleeve. “Greetings,” she spoke calmly, knowing he didn’t recognise her now. “It’s a sad day, isn’t it? Such a powerful and brave man dying at the hands of some cruel monster. The same one that burnt Layden all those years ago.” The man nodded, trying not to look suspicious, but was failing.

“I killed him.” “Pabbi! You’re alive!” Narra spoke with a smile, running up to hug her father. Harald had assassinated the man who had burned his village and killed his wife, at least, who he though did that. It was actually one of his soldiers who had a disguise spell put on him so the actual perpetrator was never found.

“You disguised yourself to be one of my pabbi’s other friends so you could become his advisor, assuming that I had been married off and that you’d get the throne… such a pitiful fool…” Narra purred as she approached him. “Good to see you again, Klemen,” Narra’s voice dripped with venom as the man took a step back. Narra raised the blade and slashed his stomach. “That’s for burning the village,” another slash was done to his chest. “That’s for my father,” she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him close before slowly dragging the blade across his throat, making him gasp frantically, trying to breath. “And that is for my mother…”

“Never blindly trust anyone.” -Ashton V.T., the author

Written by Ashton V.T.

A/N: Hallo! Yes, this story is confusing, that’s because you’re supposed to read the paragraphs in italics to learn of Narra’s past, as the regular text is her preparing for taking revenge without her father punishing her for her actions. There is minimal use of magic, and way less violence than the original version of this. Do I care that it’s badly written? No. Would I have sent the original? If I was allowed to, but I legit had my dad say it was too gritty.