Trigger warning: This chapter contains raw material which can be offensive or traumatising to some.
Ps. Changed the cast for Jarl Gunnarson from Tommi Korpela to Peter Stormare. Simply because he too has that villain-look, and is more known to people outside of Finland, than Korpela.
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The man was furious.
Blood boiling, teeth clenching, nails digging, furious. Gaze searching for something to wreck, eyes found the vase before his hand did. Throwing the object from one of his raiding parties, his chest rose and fell unevenly.
The Jarl had just received the news of his wife's kidnapping. Yes, he thought she was dead, so he threw her in to the ditch. He saw her as a useless body now that she had lost his son. What a fucking idiot.
His eyes made a turn to the small, trembling figure before him. He had his fun with beating her, for a while, after she was dragger before him, and she opened that sweet little mouth of hers.
The girl now whimpered kneeling infront of him, her bottom lip cut open and jaw decorated with a dark, blue, purple mark. Her body was shaking from fear, exhaustion, and pain. She was done. She did not think she could last any more fists, anywhere.
"So," Hall began with the calm sinister voice he had. Gazing upon his hand, eyes landed on to the rings. One golden, one carved of wood with the Sowilō rune carved in to the thickest part of it, and two made out of steel. Blood covered them, but one stood out. "You are telling me, that someone took her?"
Gyda was the one to inform her Jarl about his wife's body being stolen by a stranger. She however could not see the way her Jarl had watched her over the years, or how he craved for another plaything. He had seen his wife with the little beauty over an over again, and dreamt of taking them both. Tied, crying, begging, just how he likes it.
She did not see the fist coming when it made its first hit. She did not expect her Jarl to hate on the messenger. War first, talk comes after. That was his way, and Gyda was getting the worst of it. Only if she knew, that this was far from over.
"Y-yes, Jarl," She stuttered, head bowed and hands tucked infront of her, she knew how to show respect, even when the one receiving it did not earn it. "The man said she could still be saved," her last words coming out as nothing but a whisper, but Hall heard her still.
"What did this thief look like?" Nonchalantly picking on his nails using one of his many, small little knifes. A way of intimidation, and it was succesful.
Gyda heard her Jarl, but describing the strange man seemed to be an impossible task. How would you describe someone, who appeared so normal, yet raidiated something else? Something far more powerful, in her eyes, almost god-like. Confused, she stilled until another sting on her cheek brought her attention to the man torturing her.
