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◝.*･ﾟ
𝙂𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙨𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧, spring had come and it had brought a plentiful harvest and bright rays of sunshine with it. The soils were rich with nutrients, crops sprouting and blooming better than ever before; his mother had happily declared that after a harsh winter, the God's had rewarded them for their strength.
Many of their livestock had already fell pregnant, with several lambs already bounding around in their spacious pens. While the leaves on the trees were beginning to flower with bright colours, wildflowers and vital herbs were growing in the newly thick grass.
But most importantly of all, the streams water was no longer numbingly cold, meaning there would be no more reluctant bathing- which resulted with chattering teeth and trembling limbs.
As he tiptoed out of the longhouse, closing the door as quietly as he possibly could, Niklaus was greeted by a clear sky and a glowing, just-set sun.
It was a slight shock to the system, having gotten use to the chilling breeze greeting him every morning. After casting a wary glance towards the longhouse, Niklaus frowned.
Hopefully he hadn't woken Mikael up, his father was in a particular foul mood, something told him it had something to do with his mother.
Esther had protested when she had caught Mikael trying to sneak out the house in the early hours, trying to retreat to the stables, and they all knew why. Marcella was curled up in the stables, sleeping peacefully, unprotected.
It wasn't uncommon for a Viking to sleep with his slave- rape, murder and brutality was common in their culture.
But his mother wasn't of Viking blood, she disagreed with the cultures and customs, but often protested discreetly, distracting her husband- never voicing her opinions.
At the thought of Marcella, Niklaus glanced towards the stables.
The doors were still closed, the horses hadn't even been let out into their pens yet, so Niklaus was unsure if the blonde was awake or still asleep, as after all, it was early.
Marcella... He hadn't stopped thinking about her. About her soft petal lips, ethereal violet eyes, startling silver hair and soft tone.
Several weeks had passed since Mikael had returned from his journey, tugging the silver-haired slave through the village, parading her around as if she was nothing more than cattle. Like a goat bound by rope.
