Vikings imagines

Hvitserk - The Bastard and the Prince

I couldn't help myself and had to make one kind of based off of Game of Thrones.

I tried to make this one a little longer, my last one was very short.

Enjoy my loves!

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The chains that held your arms together were starting to draw blood on your wrists. Blisters formed on your feet and burned with every step you took but your pride was too high to fall to your knees.

A group of Vikings had captured your people, killed off most of your men and chained everyone else up.

You were one of the "lucky" ones who got to walk behind a mans horse, and if you stopped you would be dragged behind.

They spoke to each other in a foreign language, laughing and occasionally looking back at the slaves they had now gained.

One kept staring though, he was a few men up and was with the leader of the men. He followed a cripple around, how could they let a cripple lead them.

After what felt like hours you finally arrived at their city, though it looked as if they had raided this one as well. Dried blood caked your wrists and you were sure blood soaked your shoes, along with mud.

Your suspicions were proven to be correct as once you entered the gates a large church stood, with priests heads out onto spikes.

The man who you walked behind took your chains off the horse and led you to a cell, throwing you in and closing the door.

It was dank and dark, but it was better then having to stand on your feet. A single light shined in from the small bars atop your door.

You closed your eyes and felt a headache forming as every part of your body ached. The sound of talking and boots hitting the cold stone floor made you open your eyes though.

The door opened and the man who was staring at you before walked in, a torch in hand. He closed the door and lit a few other torches, finally lighting the room up.

"What is your name?" The man asks blatantly as he turns to look at you.

You sit there and don't respond, staring back at the man as he held the torch. He sighs and walks over to you, sitting down and crossing his legs.

"I'm trying to make this easy for you. My brother knows your father was king of your city. He wanted to take your head on a spike but I convinced him not. So, I'll ask one more time, what is your name?" The man asks once more, not even a sliver of anger visible in his voice.

"Y/n Snow." You state bluntly and look away from him.

"See, now that wasn't so hard. Wouldn't want to see a pretty face like yours on a spike anyway." He breathes out and shifts himself, kicking your foot in the process.

You hiss and draw your leg near, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you.

He looks up at you and then places his hand on your ankle, removing your shoe and seeing your bloodied foot. Blisters were between almost every toe and on your heel, and they were practically stained red.

"For a Kings daughter, you seem to not even have decent clothing or shoes. Why is that?" He asks as he pulls cloth out of his pocket and a small flask of what you assume is alcohol.