Duck Lake what have they done to us?

his breath hitches. a frozen plume in the mid of the cold, midnight air. he had craved this more than he cared to admit—and already, he had. but not to the extent which he felt it. it was intense. a desire that never quite went away. he had never longed for a woman so much as he did her.

at first, it had simply been bloodline. nature. she was a tempest, a storm and she drew him in. because, was it not the nature of all crownore men to desire a strong wife? a woman who could stand at his side, not subservient, but stronger than even he? a woman who could proclaim, who could lead.

but now, it was so much more. more than power, more than legacy. it was simply her. he wanted her; day and night, for years to come. when he laid down his axe, he wanted to do so knowing he had loved and been loved. truly, fiercely: her. it is an oath that binds him more than any gods ever could. his voice comes slow this time: við göngum saman.

he steps back just enough to drink in the sight of her—her strength, her vulnerability. she is everything he has ever wanted, everything he never dared hope to have. and now she stands before him, willing to take that step with him.

og ég mun taka þig í burtu þegar tíminn er réttur. he promises. a vow forged in the heat of their shared fire. there will be no blood, no grief, no burdens—

not for these seven days. only the two of them.

fade? <3