If there's one thing she regrets more than living, it's her father's decision. Owing the man a life debt, he pledged his eldest daughter to be his wife and servant for the remaining years of his life. Not knowing what this man was capable of, she agreed with little debate, knowing nothing more than to be bartered and sold her entire life.
Her father used her as trade, offering her 'special' services in exchange for dragon hide and weapons. She was her own father's trading whore, and it sickened her to her stomach whenever she thought of it. But to finally be rid of him was the best thing that could ever happen to her. And while this man was no pleasant man, she would take him over her father any day. But she could go without the beatings and constant slave labor.
Her name is Siv, which translates to "bride". All she was known for was being someone else's prize to be won. But now the property of one of the most powerful men in the entire Archipelago, things seemed to be getting better.
Wife of Viggo Grimborn was a title to behold, even if no one outside of the Dragon Hunters had ever heard of her. But everyone in their 'tribe' so to speak, knew that she was never to be touched. When she came back to Viggo's tent one night with bruises on her arm, he was furious and broke the hands of the person who was responsible.
Viggo always told her that her beautiful white icy skin was a sight to behold and never tarnished by bruising or blood. Siv was always very grateful for that, making sure she was well taken care of and always kept clean. He always asked for her long, flowing blood red hair to be pulled back in a braid, but having her bangs down. He always looked for an excuse to brush her hair away from her bright blue eyes and stare at them for long periods of time.
Siv admired his elegant words and high intelligence for everything it was worth, never underestimating her husband when the occasion called for heavy thinking. But there wasn't just his smarts and brain to admire. He just happened to be, in her opinion, one of the most attractive men all across the oceans.
Not a large beard, but a hint of one on his face, three large claw mark scars running down his neck, muscular, but not ridiculously built. Clearly, he uses his wits to get out of a fight, not brute strength.
And although Viggo knew very well where she came from and what she has done in her past, he was not deterred by any of it. He never brought it up, and showed her affection at every opportunity, even in the presence of his men. His love was not a weakness, but a strength.
So when Siv was told that allies were to visit that night, she made herself the most presentable that she could. Having the body of a goddess, Viggo encouraged her to show off what Odin blessed her with, telling her that pride in her body was nothing to be ashamed of. With her well-endowed breasts and slender waist and well developed hips, Siv had clothed herself in a soft sheep wool sleeveless dress with a bluish gray coloring. On her back was a deep brown dragon hide cloak that Viggo insisted she wear to show her status as his wife. On her feet were simple leather sandals that strapped all the way up her calves and stopped just inches below her knees. Her hair was let down and a single braid wove around the crown of her head and draped down her back in a wave, along with the rest of her locks.
Viggo approved, of course. He approved of everything she wore. But Siv, was nervous.
Viggo took her hands in his and kissed her soft knuckles.
"Do not worry, my flower. If anyone sees what I see, there will be no problems," He told her, putting his hand under her chin and it made her smile. She leaned up slightly to kiss his lips, which he returned with gratitude.
After their exchanges of affections, Viggo sat down at his desk and looked at his Maces and Talons board, holding the game piece of the Viking Chief in his hands.
"Why the board?" She inquired, tilting her head to the side to inspect what he was doing.
"A metaphor, darling." Siv has been around this man long enough to know not to pester him further when he speaks simple words.
Siv stood next to his chair and under the large dragon skull that sat on the back of it. Under that, his collection of double bladed axes. Viggo certainly knew how to play up the fear factor when someone walked into his personal, for it looked like the abode of a madman, though this man was very sane and well-collected.
When Siv saw the tent flaps move with the presence of others, she tensed but kept a neutral face, holding her hands behind her back and keeping her back straight, though her nerves turned to solid ice.
In walked Viggo's brute of a brother, Ryker, the crazed chieftain that she has heard so much about, Dagur the Deranged, and his newfound family, sister Heather, jet black hair and wearing leather head to toe minus the spiked shoulder plates that matched with her dragon, a Razorwhip.
Viggo spoke, which put Siv's fear to rest. Her husband's voice had a way of soothing her.
"They say there are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn't true, and the other... Is to refuse to believe what is. 'Maces and Talons'." Viggo announced, standing up and still holding the game piece in his hands.
"I began playing with my grandfather when I was just a boy. I always insisted on being the honorable viking chief. I could never understand how he bested me time and time again," Viggo chuckled as Dagur exchanged a look of uncertainty with his sister who simply stared back in confusion.
"For years, I assumed his skill transcended mine. I believed what wasn't true. But you see, in 'Maces and Talons,' as in life, the line between good and evil is often unclear," He tapped the game piece against the lantern that hung from the ceiling as it swung back and forth and Siv breathed in slowly.
"Black and white can become gray so easily. What one soul considers evil, another might consider righteous," Viggo placed the viking chief game piece down and picked up the mace on the board.
"The honorable chief who fails to see this is found to be..." He hit the piece with the mace and knocked it over. "The fool."
Siv looked from her husband to the other two that she hadn't met who were looking at her with curiosity, and it seemed the girl showed disdain in her features. Was she worried for her health?
Viggo stood and walked towards Ryker. "Welcome, brother!" He embraced him with a warm hug and then inspected his face for signs of exhaustion. "You must be weary. The dragon trade is exhausting business." But almost breaking them out of a trance, one of Viggo's men had thrown another one at his feet, the man quivering and whining like a blubbering baby that had done something wrong. And in fact, he had done something wrong.
"Even more so when profits wane because inventory goes missing," Viggo reached for the sword upon his back and Siv's breath hitched in her throat as she wondered what her husband would do. He's not like this, to draw a sword on one of his men for making a mistake.
"Viggo, I only borrowed the hide to exchange for food! It wasn't missing for more than a day!" The man said, holding up his hands before the sword was thrust at his throat, making Siv jump slightly.
Viggo placed the sword under his arm and lifted the man to his feet, staring him in the eye to make him fear for his life before removing the sword from his person and nodding at the other man to take him out of the tent, sparing his life.
"Oh, thank you Viggo! Thank you!" He said as he left. Heather glared at Viggo which made Siv irritated with the girl's obvious attitude.
"We're not animals," Viggo sheathed his sword behind his back once more and spread his arms out to the guests. "Rest. Much to discuss tomorrow." As he gestured for them all to leave, he put his hand on Heather's shoulder, stopping her from leaving.
"She can stay." Dagur stopped, glaring at Viggo for longer than Siv believed to be necessary but left nonetheless. "Come. Walk with me." Viggo asked her. Siv made a noise of protest making her husband turn around to look at her. She knit her eyebrows together and looked between him and Heather.
"I'll be back, darling." Was all he told her before walking out of the tent, leaving Siv to worry all on her own. She wandered from his table to the table on the other side of the tent where there was a single loaf of bread and seared fish scales lying in a neat pile from their dinner before their arrival. With an absent mind, Siv picked up the bread, broke off a single piece, and chewed on it till it was nothing more than mush in her mouth and swallowed. Ever since she had been released from the grip of her father, she always ate when she felt uneasy or nervous. Not enough to fill her, but a bite here and there to quench the nerves flaring in the pit of her belly.
Minutes went by and Siv had sat herself down in Viggo's chair, the fur pelt on the arm rest giving her comfort for the time being while he was absent.
When he returned, Siv rose from her seat and stood at attention like a soldier waiting on orders.
"What was that about?" Siv said, glancing over his shoulder at the tent's entrance before Viggo narrowed his eyes and glared at the Maces and Talons board on his desk.
"We definitely have a traitor among us. And it is not Ryker. Or Dagur."
"It's the girl?"
Viggo chuckled. "She believes that she is fooling me. But you must know very well-"
"No one fools you, love. I know." Siv bowed her head down to the man as he placed his fingers under her chin and directed her lips to his, smoothing the last of her nerves away, making her almost purr like a very relaxed dragon would. As her hands slowly found their way to his neck, she traced his scars with the softness of her fingertips. Just as she always did when setting his mind at ease.
Breaking the kiss, Viggo smirked in that way when he wanted something from her. It was painfully obvious exactly what he wanted but Siv still played the innocent card well.
"I think it's time we retire to bed, don't you?" He said, making her blush.
"Oh?" She pretended. "But I'm not tired."
"Neither am I." Siv couldn't help the laugh as Viggo lifted her up into his arms almost effortlessly as he carried her to their shared bed that was covered in bear pelts and soft cotton materials that a high chieftain would rest in. Siv was always uncomfortable in a bed made of wood. So Viggo had dealt with many traders to give this woman exactly what she wanted. And what she wanted was soft, fluffy, and warm.
And Viggo delivered, oh Odin how he delivered exactly what she wanted all of the time, reading her like a book. Of course he would; someone with such an advanced intellect could easily read his wife's feelings and emotions.
After they had lain together as a husband and wife should, Siv walked about their room in the nude and opening a book that lay upon the table top nearest to their bed and sat back down, flipping through the pages and the many dragons that sit within the pages, studying them as best she could.
"What are we looking at tonight?" Viggo said, propping himself up on his elbow and looking at her through the candlelight and watching the flames glow dance across the features of her face. She narrowed her eyes before blinking at the page and softly spoke.
"Just the recent entry on the Whispering Death. How it eats its victims whole but regurgitates what it could not digest at the moment of consumption and stores it for later... And how we found dragon bones in the caverns as well," Her face contorted with discomfort at the work they did. How they captured dragons. But then again, they were mindless beasts with no real loyalty but to themselves, right? Who cares what they do with the reptiles?
After reading on the disgusting techniques, she put the book down and blew out the candle, laying back down and turning to face Viggo, her fingers blankly tracing down his sternum and resting on the coarse skin of his chest, which also carried a scar of its own.
Siv never asked where it came from, not wanting to intrude on his past too much. She didn't know much about him except what he told her willingly without her pestering. Knowing all too well how it felt for someone to intrude on your personal life, she did not ask questions. But accepted him for the man he was now.
And with that, and the arm that slowly wrapped over her and the hand that was now tracing patterns against her spine, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, wondering what tomorrow would hold for her.