Floki (
gods_that_haunt_me) wrote2015-05-30 09:16 pm
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OOM (during the 4 year jump)
I work like a Dwarf through the seasons.
My toil is fraught with frustration, and blessed with inspiration.
The gods move me. They give me every reason to wake up with the sun. To make love to Helga. To seek the trees with which to build my boats.
This is my existence. And I would not trade it for anything.
It is early spring, when the first warm breath of wind mingles with the receding chill in the air. The water reflects a cloudless sky. A perfect time to stay outdoors from morning to evening. Working, and delighting in the work.
With every pull on the draw knife, a plank of wood takes shape. I see what it will become; I see how it will be a part of the ship.
The ship itself is yet a skeleton. On its bones I will lay the flesh and smooth its skin, a living thing. I see it all in my head, and I pray to the gods to help me make my vision real.
My toil is fraught with frustration, and blessed with inspiration.
The gods move me. They give me every reason to wake up with the sun. To make love to Helga. To seek the trees with which to build my boats.
This is my existence. And I would not trade it for anything.
It is early spring, when the first warm breath of wind mingles with the receding chill in the air. The water reflects a cloudless sky. A perfect time to stay outdoors from morning to evening. Working, and delighting in the work.
With every pull on the draw knife, a plank of wood takes shape. I see what it will become; I see how it will be a part of the ship.
The ship itself is yet a skeleton. On its bones I will lay the flesh and smooth its skin, a living thing. I see it all in my head, and I pray to the gods to help me make my vision real.
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"The trees that offer themselves must be replaced. Just like our men who fall in battle. We wait through the seasons for the saplings, tree and human alike, to grow big and strong until they are ready. I never take a tree if it isn't ready; that would only spell doom for the ship."
Floki pats the three trunk and moves on, looking over his shoulder at Ragnar.
"Rest assured, the trees that I take for this ship will all most certainly be ready."
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They walk along for a little while as the forest embraces them.
"So, Ragnar," Floki then says, "where will you be taking us to raid this summer?"
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"By summer? Not this one. I could try, but this is not a ship that can be rushed. No ship ought to be rushed, but I know that this one will be special."
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"And it's almost as if you can depend on King Horik to be undependable!"
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"But King Horik... He says things with such earnestness. And in that moment you have no choice but to believe him, for he is the king, and you trust his word to be gold."
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"That time you sent me to speak to him about Jarl Borg..." he then says, a little hesitant, as he is loathe to bring up the past.
"We were just like this, walking through the forest. He asked me to tell him about the gods. So I did, the oldest stories I could remember. And he knew them, too, Ragnar. He understood the gods as well as I! Yet...I think he is like two sides of a coin. A bronze one. One side polished, the other tarnished."
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Long pause.
"I distrust men who tell me exactly what I want to hear, and who speak of what's closest to my heart as a matter of course. It often means they've made a study of me, and there is something they want and try to get by plucking strings in my heart."
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Lack of hospitality being the worst thing among Vikings, of course.
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"Why can't they all be like you, Ragnar? It would make things so much more pleasant."
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"We can," he says. "I trust you in that as much as I trust your ships to swim on water."
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They wander on, Floki occasionally picking at plants and sniffing them before sticking their leaves into one of the pouches on his belt.
"Will it be the East again this year, then?"
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As will Athelstan.
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