action, meet consequence

"Only the best for you, hjärtat mitt," he can't help himself. There's a gentleness, a shine to his eyes when he's with Tenshi. It's different than the side of the viking king that the rest get to see, but it's not a bad thing. Víðarr allows himself to be tender, to be gentle, with her. She deserves it. Tenshi is everything to him, and he couldn't help himself. He wouldn't deny himself, he couldn't deny her. Víðarr had fought hard, he'd worked his ass off, and now it was time to reap the rewards.

With a little wink and a nod from him, Tenshi starts on perhaps the most uncomfortable part of the procedure. Though he holds still, the viking king can feel the bite of the needle as it pokes through his flesh. He can feel the tug of stitching material through the wound as she closed it, and he couldn't hold all of a growl out of his throat while she did. Still, the shadow remained still. The twitch and flex of his toes, the scrunch of his face-- he had no doubt she could see it in him, she could feel it in him.

"You are relief enough," he murmured softly. Still, at the throb of the ragged wound, he may give just a bit of an indication that it hurts more than he planned. "But maybe drugs are good too." He relented, offering a gentle smile. Víðarr was a proud beast, but maybe not too proud.

"Víðarr"