The young of the forgotten God of illusion, Valravn, craves the Midgardian Ivar the Boneless. Valravn, beings the doting father, allows his daughter to chase after he she desires most and she plans to take what she wishes to have by any means nessic...
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The great Valravn could see the loneliness within his daughters eyes. She may have the blood of the God of illusion coursing through her, but she could not trick him into seeing something other than as things were.
Shes lived for centuries yet she barely looked to be older than a Midgardian whos only just surpassed their 16th name day.
Being cast aside, banished by Odin and the other Aesir, he was left to live in his own realm near the gates of Helheim, forever to live in isolation, and his daughter having to suffer the consequences beside him.
He became forgotten as a God, his name never being uttered by a single Midgardian; they even knew of lesser-known Gods and even Hel, but never had his name pass the lips of a single Midgardian, subsequently allowing him to become weaker.
It angered him to such great lengths, but his only thoughts were his daughter and her happiness, or lack thereof.
His illusions could only keep her happy and entertained for so long. And so, he allowed her to join him in people watching the Midgardians.
And within this, she had first laid eyes on the now king of Kattegat.
Valravn watched his daughter as she watched the Midgardian. From the moment he came from his mothers womb, she knew he had to be special.
For years, as he grew, she would only watch over him, firstly caring for him when he was a young boy, feeling saddened by his isolation from his brothers, the young children that ran around, and from every other Midgardian to walk the Earth.
She was thankful that his mother had held genuine love and affection for the cripple.
That care slowly transformed from platonic to romantic as he continued to grow, his features becoming more defined, his upper body muscles grew, and his strength increased. His eyes, the prettiest blue she had ever seen, they swallowed her whole like the waves on Midgard against the shores.
She doubted that Odin could have made the ocean as beautiful, alluring, and dangerous as the pools of his eyes.
Her heart clenched when she watched him have his way with that whore of a slave, Margrethe, wishing it had been her. The way the thrall, so easily shared by his three brothers, had looked at him with anything but disgust angered her.
She should consider herself blessed to be so close to man.
She willed it herself, writing it out as if fate, that the thrall would be killed. She knew of his elder brothers pain, poor Ubbe having to suffer the loss of someone he so unconditionally loved, but it had to be done.
And then, her heart all but shattered when the next slave came along, by the name of Freydis. She whispered sickly-sweet honeyed words into his ear, all secretly poisonous lies. She dared bare a child and lie of its blood.
