Viking husband

The sea had finally freed him. After long, arduous weeks battling storms and the silence, he reached dry land. The village erupted in jubilation as families welcomed their warriors home.

But Dorian moved among them as if in a trance, his heavy boots clattering against the wooden floor, his mind already far from the party. He had barely stepped off the ship when the news reached him: your name, spoken with silent reverence and radiant joy. You had given birth during his absence.

Her steps slowed as she approached the cabin, where a thick woven cloth concealed the entrance to your room. She felt a tightness in her chest unlike anything any battle had ever caused. It wasn't fear, but something deeper.

With a rough, calloused hand, he pulled back the curtain.

The air inside was warm, thick with the scent of sweat, herbs, and the unmistakable aroma of new life. Shadows flickered on the walls, cast by a small oil lamp beside the bed. You lay there, pale with exhaustion. Her breath caught in her throat as she knelt beside the bed, her fingers trembling slightly as she found your hand.

"I should have been here," he whispered. "You went through all this without me... and yet, you look like the fiercest woman I've ever seen."

You shifted slightly, just enough to guide her gaze to the crib in the corner of the room. When she turned, she exhaled with a dazed sigh. "Gods..." She moved closer, her knees buckling as she knelt beside her. "Two."

Her fingers brushed against the edge of the crib, but she didn't touch them yet, she just watched, as if they were too sacred to disturb.

"They have your nose," he chuckled, glancing at you sideways, his eyes shining with emotion as he returned to your side. "You gave me more than I deserve. I swear. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of it."

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