You look around, women and men come in and out of Kattegat by where you were. Or the wolves will come to drag her out, (Y/N)!" Vigdis throws over her should as she dissipates into Kattegat's crowd like a feather in a field. Would it not be easier to burn? You don't ask any further, bending your back with the shovel and beginning to dig. You look about as if shocked that a thrall would be buried. "Shut up and get to work!" She says as you arrive at the area where you were to dig. Feeding the animals, churning milk into cheese, cleaning anything inside– those were all preferable to the constant stretch and bend of your back. Most of the time you tried to do it with a smile, but today you were aching. She constantly gave you the hardest of work to do knowing how Ivar would get if things were off schedule. Your little ass jumped his cage." Vigdis, the eldest of the thralls never liked you. "Since you went crying to Ivar, you have to dig the grave. Vigdis barks at you to hurry up, and you do, winding it as quickly as you could manage before she thrusts you out of Ivar's room and outside. You wear your embarrassment like a fur coat as the thrall throws your dress at you.Īn echoing scream down the hall becomes thinner by the moment. Instead as you sat up in nothing but the fur to cover you, the thrall above you wore a sneer. In fact, it wasn't in the bed or room at all. God, you wanted nothing but to lay under these cozy covers with Ivar's warm– Wait. Getting up ached when your whole body felt like Ubbe had been slicing into it with a knife. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image. Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines.
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