Vikings imagines
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You were cleaning the blankets when your son came running, pushing you by the hand towards the entrance of the village.
— Mama, mama! Come see. – he said enthusiastically, making you walk faster as you wondered what it could be. Last time he did that, you found a hidden nest of tiny blue birds.
— Raoul, slow down. – you said, worried that he would fall or hurt himself on the way, but the boy was impossible. There wasn't an argument that could be used to stop him from something. He was brave like..
Both of you came to a stop when you arrived in the square, a small crowd formed around something, shouting happy.
You starred down at your son, a frown formed on your face. It didn't look like a bunch of birds. Before you could ask him something, the people started to dissipate and you notice the men in the middle, one in special, that almost make your heart stop beating.
Four years had passed since you saw the bastard. The words still fresh in your mind, but so was the pain that followed his absence. Month after month waiting for him to come back, but when two springs had passed you tried to convince yourself that he was dead. That was the only logical explanation. Yet there he was, standing in front of look like the time hadn't passed, the same deep blue eyes that made your knees go weak, this time only brought you anger.
— We are going back home. – pulling him by the hand, you walked back to the small hut near the forest.
— But that was the king, mama. – he pounded, big eyes with the color of a stormed sea gazing sadly between you and the ruler. — I wan..
— Stay away from him, you hear me? – you kneeled in front of him, drawing his attention to you.
You wouldn't commit another mistake, your son won't suffer like you did. Things were fine the way it is and shall keep this way.
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For his return, the king warned that there would be a feast on the Great Hall.
— Mama, are we going to the feast? – Arthur asked, entering the room while you finished the braid in your hair.
