Fear Incarnate [Light the Fuse x Risi]

Volkvardr knew it'd be hard for her to understand. Her insult had barely phased him, he understood her all too well at the moment. Southern ways were quite different, he'd been there a few times in his life. Funny story revolving a bread vender who cheated him. Anyhow, he decided to divulge something he knew Gunnarr would be rather angered about.

"Everyday is a test of strength, every man you've seen here has killed to survive and to thrive, and continues to make sure he may exist a day more, none more then Gunnarr." He paused, taking a rather deep breath.

"Gunnarr was a mere eight years when his village was attacked by orcs. The men were massacred, the children and women enslaved. Gunnarr witnessed the death of his father, and the eventual rape of his mother. The violence didn't end there, he was forced to make weapons, to clean the tents, and was beaten everyday. Just for laughs, they'd even rape his mother in front of him, inspiring anguish and rage in the poor boy," Volkvardr shook his head.

"Eight years later, we found the orc camp. Every orc was killed, brutalized. Amongst the blood and bodies, we found Gunnarr kneeling by his dead mother. Ever since he has refused to tell what happened that day our tribe arrived, however." Volkvardr paused, leaning over to her with a whisper.

"Between you and me, I think the boy killed every last one of 'em in a blind rage that he doesn't even remember." Volkdvardr said, nodding.

"You've spent your childhood in a castle, he's spent his as a slave. I'll tell you that he probably won't be a noble suave prince, but he'll protect you better then any army." Volkvardr commented with a grin.

Suddenly she felt bad for bashing their ways, especially Gunnarr. But in the back of her mind she wondered if that event should have clued him into the significance of a life, but it seemed for naught. She decided to keep that tidbit to herself though. Taking an additional breath, she looked to Volkvardr, "But is protection over love really the best choice?"

It wasn't that she had a choice between the man that could protect her and a man that loved her, as the second man didn't exist. Violet had just always grown up with the hope she would get prince charming knocking at the castle gates one day, and that fantasy had been turned on its head. "Do you know when he'll be back?" she then asked, wondering what would transpire between the two of them.

"Who's got the time to find love?" Volkvardr said, shrugging. Volkvardr never had a wife. He had women, but never a wife. Never had a son either, but he treated Gunnarr as one. Bjorn was also considered one, tad of a bad egg though. His ferocity was measurable to Gunnarr. He was a different story entirely.

"The Volkan show such things with their willingness to fight for their families, to feed them, to protect them. Gunnarr ." He said as he stood up, rolling his neck a bit.

"He'll be back soon, until then just relax, get warm." He said as he started towards the door. "And no matter what, do not go outside the tribe unless protected." He finished. Gunnarr would eventually reach his house after fixing up today's event, heading up to his bedroom to meet Gunnarr. His face was rather, neutral.

"Before you say anything, Volkvardr spoke to me already." He muttered, crossing about his arms. He was clean of blood, and clad in a linen-shirt covered by a fur cloak.

She took Volkvardr's words to heart, tossing them around in her mind as she laid there attempting to get warm. When Gunnarr entered she rolled over to face him, wrapped in the blankets tightly. Surprisingly though, she did not yell, or tell him he was a barbarian, instead, "Thank you." She understood why he had stuck up for her, killed the man for her, to keep her anyways. Violet may not have agreed with it, but she understood and that was the first step. Slowly, she unwrapped herself from the blankets and crawled from the bed.

She padded over to him and keeping with her streak of surprises wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. She awaited the return or rejection of him as she held tightly, attempting to show her appreciation in something other than simple words. Words that she wasn't sure if he trusted much anyways.