Title: Assurance
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Spoilers: Philosopher's Stone to Goblet of Fire
Period: 1994 (GoF)
Pairings: Viktor Krum/OC Vidgis
Summary: The night before Viktor Krum is to leave to Hogwarts, he shares a first kiss with the woman he is arranged to be married to, and reinforces their contract.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The character of Vigdis is a figment of the writer's imagination and any resemblance to fictional characters or real people is strictly coincidental. The plot, however, is created by the writer and are not to be replicated by another.
Writer's Notes: A Viktor Krum ficlet written as part of a challenge. The requirements included a Viktor's first kiss, a warning, a sarcastic remark and a few objects. Vidgis is an original character I created to fill the part of Viktor's love interest at Durmstrang.
Assurance
a viktor krum romance
The waxing moon filtered silver rays through the dark clouds, setting the snow gathered on the magnificent castle burning with a starry brilliance. The ancient castle was constructed of rough stone indigenous to the deep surfaces of the Earth. Towers rose up from the five corners. Black marble gargoyles dug their claws into the covering, the water from their fanged mouths frozen into a glistening waterfall. Their reflective eyes watched over the Icelandic castle, the surrounding woodlands and lakes. White snow sheltered the ice-covered waters, and the barren trees were weighed down with September's snowfall. A great oak stood isolated from the rest, its branches reaching protectively across the land it had seen strengthen from volcanic bursts.
Orange fires wavered in the hearths of the castle, glowing warmly through the frosted windows. A Gyr Falcon took flight overhead, her wingspan momentarily blotting out the moon. Her journey was tracked by one inside the castle walls, his gunmetal eyes watching her return to her nest in the cliffs. The young man turned from the window, pulling his fur cloak closer and buckling it at his neck with a double-headed eagle clasp.
The cold air drove through the small cracks between the stones, chilling the student to the marrow. The winter months on the island, which intercepted the Arctic Circle, barely glimpsed any light from the sun, and the temperature never mounted above freezing.
Durmstrang Institute of Magical Learning was the dwelling of less than three-hundred pure-blooded wizards and witches. The castle itself was simple and barely furnished; no staircases moved while the students walked on them, and no photographs of famous magical folk hung from the walls, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Instead, the castle was decorated with the figures of Norse mythology.
The black-haired student lazed in the darkened common room of the Grimms House. The fire in the hearth smouldered with a low light which gave little heat; the crimson embers shone unsteadily in his eyes. One portrait was hung above the mantle--Odin, the wanderer and God of wisdom and war.
He was alone in the commons for only several seconds more.
From the shadows of the stairwell emerged an young woman, flimsy night robes draping from her curvaceous body. Her skin shivered against the cold air with goosebumps, and she stalled on the bottom step.
"Viktor?" her voice carried through the darkness.
Viktor Krum's eyes ran over the seventeen-year-old and graciously welcomed her, "Vigdis."
She stepped closer to him with a porteuse grace, letting the fire throw shadows over her lily-white face. Raven hair cascaded over her shoulders and shadowed dark eyes with sumptuous lashes. She faltered beneath the piercing gaze of the Bulgarian Quidditch Seeker, misunderstanding the emotion reflected in his eyes. "You depart in the morning, Viktor. Why have you not come to see me? You will be gone until spring and haven't bothered with a farewell," she said in her native Icelandic tongue.
Viktor forced a smile and motioned for the woman he'd known since childhood to join him.
Vigdis's spirit drank Viktor's attention and became intoxicated with ecstasy. She kilted the translucent skirts of her night robes as she moved closer and almost sat on Viktor's lap. When he moved away from her, Vigdis's slender hand came to rest on her bare thigh, her fingers tapping lightly against the smooth skin. She sulked when he stared steadily at the glowing firewood.
"Viktor," she said in a wounded tone.
Gunmetal eyes flickered momentarily to the witch, and he grunted. "Vigdis, I would see you after my return from Scotland," he answered in the only language she could understand.
The Icelandic beauty pressed her lips together into a disappointed frown. "I am to be your wife," she reminded him, her hands wringing the lace edges of her night robes before pulling them down past her knees. "And you speak to me with such tones?"
Viktor gazed sharply at her. His eyes held no passion, only tolerated abhorrence. "For convenience only, Vigdis. I do honour the promise made between our families seven years ago. For the most part, that is all I desire to do."
Vigdis's heart sank into her stomach. "Do we marry this summer?" she coldly asked.
"In view of the contract, of course."
"By your word?"
Viktor nodded; nevertheless, Vigdis appeared sceptical. She raised a feathery eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "You would be wise to adore me, Viktor. You must be aware of countless eyes which follow me as I walk. You may honour the contract while I choose not to," she hollowly counselled, folding her arms below her well-endowed chest.
"Could I be so blessed?" Viktor retorted sardonically, and wished he could retract those words when crystal tears brimmed in Vidgis's eyes, illuminating her lashes. He exhaled with resignation and mumbled a half-felt apology.
Vidgis wiped tears away with the edges of her night robes. She gazed at him with her heart beating in her eyes, forgiving him for words she was never incensed with. "Promise me, Viktor. I wish a summer's night wedding," she whispered.
Viktor's hand slipped around Vidgis's delicate neck and drew her closer. Underneath shadows the smouldering embers could not chase away, Vigdis flushed apple in the cheeks as she felt his hot breath next to her lips. Her tongue flicked over them as she anticipated the sensation of his touch, something he had yet to give her. Viktor lightly pressed his lips to hers, and when he pulled away, Vigdis's eyes were closed.
"Assurance," Vigdis murmured as her lips trembled, hopeful for another taste, frustrated when Viktor stood, declining her those further delights. The glowing ashes in the hearth faded into diluted smoke, and a deeper darkness was brought over them. Viktor slanted his head into a small nod, and bade his prospective wife a goodnight.