Image Prompt #2

The artwork used in the prompt and on this post is by Andreas Rocha, and can be found here: https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/026/426/331/large/andreas-rocha-grimhollow-thevalikanclans05.jpg

“Grimhollow?” the girl said even as a smile formed on her face, “That’s not what it’s called!”

The boy shivered as he looked out the opening of the house. The heavy tarp that usually covered the opening fluttered in the cold breeze.

“Well that’s what it seems like. I don’t know how you Norsemen stand all this cold,” he said.

“Sigrun,” the girl’s father said as he entered the room.

Sigrun jumped at the sound. She put on her best, cutest smile reserved for asking to keep a pet and faced him.

“You’re up early, Da’!” she said.

Her father saw through her smile and frowned at her.

“What did I tell you about letting the boy out of the house?” he said.

Sigrun let her plastered smile fall away.

“He’s not out of the house, Da’, he’s still inside, see?” she said.

She pointed to the boy, who stood trembling before her father’s broad form. His bare feet were pale against the floor. He kept his eyes down.

“Hmph,” said her father, “I suppose he is.”

He knelt down to eye level with the boy and turned his piercing gaze to him. The marks from the ropes were still visible on his wrists.

“So you do speak after all,” he said, “I heard you speaking well enough to my daughter. Out with it then, boy – what are you called?”

The boy managed to lift his head up to meet his gaze; he tried to keep his voice steady, to be proud of his name:

“Aethlan,” he said, “son of Baenor of Igrid’s Crossing.”

He glared at Sigrun’s father.

“Or at least what’s left of it!”

Sigrun’s father blew a sharp breath from his nose and stood up tall again, towering over the boy like a dragon. At any moment the boy expected him to breathe fire, or for smoke to come out of his nostrils.

“I had thought you might be ready to see more of my village,” he said, “but if that is how you are going to treat my mercy-“

“Mercy?” Aethlan said as his voice shook with rage, “Is that what you call it?”

Sigrun’s father raised a hand to strike him –

“Stop!” cried Sigrun.

Her father stayed his hand, and in his eyes she saw a look he had given her before; she knew he expected her to move out of the way. She kept her feet planted firmly as she stood between her father and Aethlan.

“Hurting him won’t make him like it here,” she said.

Her father turned his stern, cold gaze back to Aethlan.

“He doesn’t have to like it here,” he said, “he just needs to do what we tell him.”

He looked at the village outside.

“I need to make my rounds, be certain the people have enough firewood for their own homes,” he said.

He looked at Sigrun.

“Keep. Him. Here. Understood?”

Sigrun nodded.

“Yes Da’,” she said.

Her father gave a short, decisive nod. Then he strode out of the house and into the cold morning.

Sigrun peered out the opening of the house. When he had turned a corner, she turned back to Aethlan with a wide grin.

Aethlan raised his hands and shook his head.

“Oh, no no no, Sigrun, he said to stay here, I don’t want-“

Sigrun grabbed him by the wrist.

“He said you have to do whatever we tell you. And I say we go have some fun!”

Aethlan kept his legs stiff as he resisted her pulling him out the door.

“I’m not risking your Da’ eating me alive or whatever you Norsemen to do prisoners!”

Sigrun rolled her eyes.

“We won’t eat you, I promise,” she said..

She paused.

“Well, maybe Old Grayskull, but I know how to calm him down; Da’ says I’m good with animals.”

Still Aethlan refused to set foot outside the door. Sigrun sighed and let go of his wrist.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” she said, quieter this time.

“Why do you care?” said Aethlan.

“It’s been a long time since I had anyone to play games with,” said Sigrun.

Aethlan raised his eyebrows.

“And you want to play games with your prisoner?”

“You’re not in bonds anymore; you’re not a prisoner.”

“But I still belong to you, to your family.”

Sigrun shook her head.

“Da’ might think so, but I’ve never seen the men bring back someone my age; so as far as I’m concerned, you’re just a kid,” she said.

“Who happens to be only in the service of your family,” Aethlan grumbled.

Sigrun’s heart sank a little. The cold wind droned on through the valley.

“You could become one of us one day,” she said, “if you want. You’d be free.”

Aethlan’s eyes lit up.

“Free?” he whispered, as if saying it too loudly would ruin his chances.

“But if you’re going to be one of us,” said Sigrun, “then you have to learn about us.”

She offered her hand to him.

“I’ll show you,” she said.

Aethlan hesitated.

“Promise your Da’ won’t spot us?” he said.

Sigrun nodded.

“I’m good at hiding when I want to be,” she said, “it shouldn’t be too hard to hide another person.”

Aethlan swallowed his fear and nodded slowly. He took Sigrun’s hand.

“Alright,” he said, “show me.”

Sigrun smiled, and the two slipped out the door; they tread as carefully as they could on the soft snow, all the way around to the back of the house and onto the small dirt paths that ran along the edges of the village.

This prompt was found on the subreddit r/writingprompts here: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/geos4u/ip_grim_hollow/