Vikings Drabbles

⤭ the queen's gambit

all may be fair in love and war, but a king still must find his queen. or in which king harald finehair finally meets a woman of equal measure and one he feels he can truly love. rated 18+ for smut.

THE MORNING SUN strikes a golden sail on the horizon —the reflection on the water painting a path of light to the trading center of the eastern kingdom. News spreads quickly along the docks of the sighting and overflows into the markets. Everyone eager to know if King Harald of Norway had finally answered their queen's summons. There'd been much talk of late, of succession and marriage and of an ambitious king trying to assemble all the petty kingdoms of Norway under one crown. While this is not Norway, it is a vast and fertile land filled with strong men and women. An advantageous gain for a king growing his kingdom.

When word reaches the Great Hall of the longships with golden sails, your lady's maid and shieldmaidens are already preparing you for the day, aiding in daily chores, and sparring with one another. They sing whispers of King Harald Finehair and his brother, Halfdan the Black —of their reputation, prowess, and charming looks. You will have the final say on if the rumors and whispers hold truths.

"King Harald," you greet as he steps from the longship and onto the wharf accompanied by his brother, Halfdan, and nigh fifty shield men and woman. He looks more a warrior than a king, with his travelworn tunic and cloak —dark hair bound in a long braid, his face decorated with blue-black tattoos and small scars, and the first touch of silver in his beard. His eyes —clear and cold and blue— flick upward to meet yours. "It is an honor to meet one who I've heard so much about."

The praise strokes his ego, his lips twitching upward as he takes your outstretched hand, bending to let his wind-chapped lips and coarse whiskers brush over your knuckles. "Likewise," Harald replies. Tales of a good and generous queen have traveled far.

"I shouldn't keep you," you note, stepping back from the party. Sea voyages were often long and tiring, especially when fighting against the summer storms, and these seafarers have taken a beating —evident in their weary and disheveled appearance. "You all must be exhausted." There's a wave of agreement among King Harald's crew. They'd been at sea since the last new moon, more than two weeks ago. Glancing over your shoulder, you nod to the shieldmaidens, who step forward and motion the crew to follow after them. They will need beds and a warm meal before the evening celebrations. "We shall feast and drink to the gods at sundown!"

Harald and Halfdan glance at each other and back to their people as they begin unloading what supplies were left and the gifts of good faith brought from Tamdrup. "I will see you and your men are well-tended," you assure —soon tales would spread of the good queen and her kingdom's hospitality. "King Harald" —you smile, gaze flitting over to his brother— "Halfdan. If you will follow me."

THE FEAST IS bountiful, with roast boar and stag, fresh harvests from an orchard, warm bread, and soft cheeses delivered by a good friend and goat farmer to the north of the city. Harald and his brother exchange a look at the high table, awaiting the queen's arrival. Tamdrup will never be able to provide in the same manner this land does. Any fool with half the brain for politics could see the benefit of allying with such a wealthy land.

The Great Hall falls silent when you emerge, garbed in grey and silver —flanked by two of your most trusted shieldmaidens— and wearing a woven summer crown of cornflowers and avens. You smile, pausing to speak with your people and guests, eyes flitting to the front of the hall where the two brothers sit as guests of honor. Halfdan reaches over, nudging Harald in the ribs —hard— nodding for his brother to stand as you turn from a conversation, moving to take your seat. Clumsily, Harald rises, pulling back your chair with a flourish. You nod in thanks at his display of chivalry as he takes his place next to you. Seated, you extend your hand toward the tables with a wave, and the revelries recommence. "You are a generous queen," Harald says, truth and flattery; even his allies are often not so welcoming.