He'd sit with her when he could. Though life among the vikings couldn't stop, or even slow down, Víðarr would make the time to sit with her. Tenshi too. Between the two of them, the woman of soot and gold was tended to. Cared for. Though she could have probably been better tended to among the healers or the priests, the viking king couldn't help but feel something tugging in his chest. Something... something possessive. He would not share Valtiel with anyone other than his wife. She was theirs to care for. The shadow couldn't wrap his hands around why he felt this way, but here he was. A pheasant, among the first of the season, hung from his jaws as he ducked back into his den. If Tenshi was in, then it would be for Val and Tenshi to share. If it was just the woman who lay, curled in recovery, in their room? Víðarr would likely pick at her leftovers, but only after he was certain she was done. The dogs had done well to make sure she was never truly alone, at least. Carefully, he picked his way over his companions, setting about preparing the meal. Quietly, so as not to wake the woman if she wasn't already. Hopefully she was hungry. "Víðarr"

Sleep wasn't something that came easy. Not now. Not after what she'd been through. In the days since Tenshi and Vidarr had brought her here, Valtiel had said little. She had lived inside her mind during the day and had tried to survive her mind during the night. The very first night, the gold flecked fae had woken up screaming, shadows with claws chasing her through dark caverns. She was sure that her heart would hammer out of her chest, but she had made it, of course. Tenshi had given her something for sleep that night as she had needed to rest to heal, but the Carpathius woman refused to take any sort of sedative after. She had to power through.

Mismatched eyes of gold and orange stared wide and unseeing towards the mouth of the den. She was still within the place that Tenshi and Vidar shared but she would soon ask for her own space. It wasn't right that she should invade their space. Once she was able to move, Val would do everything in her power to pay her debt to them.

When Vidarr entered the cave, Valtiel said nothing. Her eyes merely focused and followed as he tried to move quietly. The dogs had kept her company, but they hadn't needed to. Now, with their master here, they moved towards him to help with.. whatever he was doing. A moment later, Val realized that he was preparing a meal. Her brow furrowed and, gritting her teeth, the shadowed woman made her way to her paws. Her neck, shoulder and leg were wrapped in bandages, but she was a stubborn fae. If her host was preparing a meal, she would do what she could to help.

"Valtiel"

Víðarr has taken responsibility for her. They both have. They all have, to some extent, though many didn't know or understand the hows or the whos. They didn't need to. The viking king was content to keep her tucked away safe from the prying eyes. Especially with rambunctious yearlings around... no. He would keep her protected from any fuckery that they could get up to. She would have a quiet place to mourn, to heal. To recover. He'd do everything in his power. Valtiel gets to her feet, and the viking king offers her a gruff scowl. A growl, too, builds in his throat. Territorial, not to be argued with. She was a guest in this home. More than a guest, she was a patient. Between the horror of his healer wife, and the healer of his gods who valued hospitality... no, it wouldn't do. The viking king makes himself large, holds himself tall. He takes up space. The assertion is clear. Simple, straightforward dominance, Víðarr reaches out to cover Val's muzzle with his own. It's a warning, a stern one. She would settle back down and wait while he made dinner. "Víðarr"

As Valtiel stepped from the furs, Vidarr moved forward. Before his first step, the man's growl met her ears. Instinctively, reflexively, the dark woman met his growl with one of her own. She was young, but Val was no child to be scolded. She was a Carpathius, a daughter of queens. Vidarr would learn that in time.

As the brute placed his maw over her own, Valtiel put her weight on her injured leg in order to use her right leg. The fae's dark paw pressed against the brutes chest and she pushed, feeling the scrape of his teeth over her midnight muzzle as he was forced to release her. His point was clear though. He didn't want help.

Rather than move back to the furs, the woman's haunches folded and she sat right where she was. Her lengthy tail curled around her paws, hips, and ended where it began. Valtiel would not hold the action against Vidarr, but she hoped that he wouldn't do it again. A guest, yes. Honor bound to repay their kindness, yes. That did not mean that she would abandon her pride or her beliefs.

The woman's neck turned and she looked out of the mouth of the den. Gold and orange eyes roamed over the outside world, looking anywhere other than the man and his meal, anyway. One tall ear flicked as she remembered a topic that she'd meant to broach with the man. Husky mellifluous tones drifted free from the woman. "I'm well enough to walk some, so I'm well enough to leave your den. If there's a spare, I would rather stay there and allow you and Tenshi to have your space once more."

"Valtiel"

His growl is met with one of her own, and the viking king's hackles rise along his shoulders, his spine. Intense gaze resting on her face, he's tense. Stiff. He remains coiled, though he doesn't push. Seeing her use the injured leg, though, Víðarr relents. Seeing her push herself on it... no, he wouldn't allow that either. A bit of softness creeping back into his gaze, peering down as she plunks to her haunches. He withdraws, snagging a morsel of the pheasant set aside in his processing. Holding it out to Val before he finishes preparing the meal-- a peace offering. Her request came as he returned to preparing the meal, carefully stepping around the dogs. She wanted to move out of their space, into her own. Víðarr bristled. The possessive parts of his brain lighting up, a heatmap. "Tenshi will evaluate your injuries, she will determine when you are well enough." It was Tenshi's opinion that he trusted over all else, especially when it came to healer's business. "Why do you prefer it?" He turned, beginning to spread the meal out at the table. Was she not comfortable in his home? He doesn't know what to make of it, not yet. Hell, he doesn't know what to make of her either, but the viking king had been quick to decide that she was staying put. "Víðarr"