ancient legacies & crime

She eats, and the viking king joins her. He's never been shy about that appetite, and he's never needed to be. The gods had given them gifts beyond measure, had rewarded them for their hard work. Víðarr would never be ungrateful for that. The pups-- he beams at the mention of the pups. Though the viking king is accustomed to playing his cards carefully, keeping them close to his chest, this is different. Everything they'd worked for was coming together beautifully. He can't help but watch Tenshi where she sits, quietly in awe of her. She's happy. Above all else, that's what matters to the viking king. Tenshi is happy, she is healthy, the pups were doing well.

And there was the question of Val. "I told her you had the last word on it." his tone is thoughtful, words quiet. The thought of Val moving out lit up all the possessive places in his brain in a way that the viking king didn't like or understand quite yet. "But you have a point about our good news." Begrudgingly, Víðarr nodded. He doesn't want to risk her already fragile heart even farther. "I want her den somewhere a priest or healer can see it." Far enough to not hear the pups, lest that hurt her further. Heathens are lost souls, it seems. The lot of them.

"Where do you think we should put her?" A question, as he mulled over the list of options in his mind. Unable to help himself, the viking king shifts closer to his wife. Casual, perhaps, but the closeness simply feels better. Life was more peaceful the closer she happened to be. Simp.

"Víðarr"