Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Freya's Snare ❯ Journey to the Gates of Hell ( Chapter 3 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Lady Nightshade 
Same has Story summary
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Drama / Hentai / Fantasy / | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.04.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 250 | Status: Completed
Same has Story summary
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Drama / Hentai / Fantasy / | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.04.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.6K | Visits: 250 | Status: Completed
Freya's Snare 3:
Journey To the Gates Of Hell
Author's Notes: Okay this is another A/U Almighty One knows I should finish working on the stories I already have up before working on this any others. But *shrugs* I am working on several one shots. One will be for YYH a series that I haven't worked on in months. Anyways, I will try and get this story slightly historical accurate. But there will be some changes in dealing with certain characters.
YuGiOh does not belong to me
_____________________________________________________________
Th e remaining inhabitants of Chesterfield sat huddled together in the long boats that were tied to the ships that the Vikings were in; their possessions were piled into other long boats. Their hands were tied together, behind their backs; and they shivered beneath the icy winds has they slowly headed closer up the North Sea. They had lost track of time after awhile and some seemed to have lost the will to live. Others however where allowing their hatred and bitterness to grow; none more so then the young knight Seto Kaiba.
Seto Kaiba had always been proud of his abilities has a English Knight and had never lost a battle. He had always been cunning and observed his opponents letting them think they were winning so he could study their moves, find their weakness and then he would attack. But he had had no time to put that strategy into action when these heathens had attacked; because there had been too many of them. He narrowed his eyes at the platinum blonde male that had been missing an eye; the one that had put him in chains. His brother was in another boat bound for another part of the heathen homeland.
He didn't know what pissed him off more: defeat or his brother being ripped from his protection. Either way, he had asked for excitement and now it seemed he had gotten more then he bargained for. Once they reached land he would find a way to break free of his chains and would fight to save his brother. Even if he died in the attempt he will have at least gone down fighting; unlike his father who had died squealing like a pig. He twisted his face to see behind him and frowned when he saw his brother in neither of the ships behind him; then again it was hard to see anything in this fog.
Where was his little brother?
Mokuba sulked he didn't like not being near his older brother. He was also a little afraid that he would never see his older brother again. Well, not that he had seen his older brother since the attack; but that was beside the point. His older brother was always a source of strength for him and now the younger brother began to wonder if he would ever be strong like his brother without his shinning light.
His eyes wondered around the closest captives to him in the long boat. The females were beaten down animals: their clothing ripped and their hair messy and their bodies were practical bruised everywhere. The young boy began to wonder what exactly would cause such a morbid and broken display of the women from his town. He turned his attention to the men and realized that while most of them looked a bit worse for wear they were essentially alright and looked more then a little anger. He twisted again trying to see his brother threw the fog only to pot unhappily when he still could not see his brother.
Arora sighed and lowered her head hidden behind her messy and tangled hair. She shuddered thinking about the man's hands on her and remembered looking into the darkest eyes she had ever seen; they reminded her of cold winter nights with the fire burning brightly. They had had a strange combination of cold and heat about them that caused Arora to fear him with all her being. Even now in another boat she feared him and she knew down to her very soul that the day of her capture would not be the last encounter she had with him.
Even though they were on separate boats she could still feel his hands on her. He was on the boat leading the Viking ships and the ships with the slaves and treasure. He hadn't looked at her once but she could feel the eyes of the other Vikings on her and knew she was being watched to make sure she and the others didn't try to escape. But, what escape was there but death? Some people believed that death would be preferable to slavery and that was proven when one of the townspeople had tried to escape. They had nearly succeeded but a Viking had dragged him back off and under orders from their leader had lopped off his head. The head was now hanging on a pole from the ship his head a reminder and warning that escape would not be tolerated.
She was rather surprised that the former knight hadn't escaped and she wondered what threat he had undergone from the leader of the raid to install his obedience. She also wondered what sort of treatment would be in store for him; she didn't want to find out. She wished the Viking leader had killed her after he had finished with her. Surely death would be better then whatever it was they had in store for her.
Yami stared ahead at the calm waters, silently giving his thanks to Thor and Odin for their protective presence and good weather during the raid. He also thanked Freya for her gift of the heathen beauty. He could hardly wait to get home so he could bathe and get the girl to bathe has well. While taking care of sheep had given her an excellent body she smelled like she was a sheep. That was something he could not tolerate; not from his bed thrall at least; let the other thralls stink up their little huts but the girl would bathe daily.
He sighed, his father would be happy to see him return with such bounty and his younger brother would be eager to hear his stories. His mother would be talking to him about marriage again. It was not that he disapproved of marriage he just didn't want to be married at the moment he was having far too much fun raiding villages for thralls and other heathen goods. Much like the dagger he had gotten off the heathen boy; he would have done good in the metal worker's shop. But there was nothing better then a Viking Blade. He smiled to himself watching the moon lower in the horizon; they would soon be home.
Joey sighed and continued rowing the long ship across the water. He could barely feel the strain of his muscles and the ache in his back; because with every row of the oar he was that much closer to home. Which meant he was that much closer to Mai and his mother and that much closer to the comfort that could be found there. He enjoyed the raids, enjoyed the rush of battle and the thrill of victory; but he also enjoyed drinking Mai's mead and working in the carpenter shop owned by his grandfather.
He enjoyed the life of a Viking but he also enjoyed the simple things in life. Soon he would have enough boon and gold to be a suitable husband for Mai but until then he would enjoy having fun with her.
Pegasus sighed and leaned against the mast holding the sails up to catch the breeze; he would soon be home with his niece, his only living relative. His sister and wife had both died of fever five summers ago. He had spoiled his niece, Pernia, now sixteen since the time of her mother's death; the girl's father having been killed in combat in the girl's infancy.
He frowned now, thinking of his troubled niece. Before her mother's death the girl had been sweet tempered but now it seemed that she went from one extreme to another in the blink of an eye. He had seen it happening slowly at first then the older the girl got the extreme and often times violent her tantrums and mood swings became. At first he had chalked it up to seeing the death of the girl's mother but then it seemed she slowly got over the mourning and the mood swings remained. It had to be something else; the question was what had it been that had driven his lovely little niece to such extremes?
Back in England Ryou awoke to the rain pouring down on his head and mixing with the blood; he blinked several times to get his head cleared before slowly getting to his feet and looking around. In the distance he could see parts of his cousin's clothes but no sign of her. He closed his eyes and screamed.
Journey To the Gates Of Hell
Author's Notes: Okay this is another A/U Almighty One knows I should finish working on the stories I already have up before working on this any others. But *shrugs* I am working on several one shots. One will be for YYH a series that I haven't worked on in months. Anyways, I will try and get this story slightly historical accurate. But there will be some changes in dealing with certain characters.
YuGiOh does not belong to me
_____________________________________________________________
Th e remaining inhabitants of Chesterfield sat huddled together in the long boats that were tied to the ships that the Vikings were in; their possessions were piled into other long boats. Their hands were tied together, behind their backs; and they shivered beneath the icy winds has they slowly headed closer up the North Sea. They had lost track of time after awhile and some seemed to have lost the will to live. Others however where allowing their hatred and bitterness to grow; none more so then the young knight Seto Kaiba.
Seto Kaiba had always been proud of his abilities has a English Knight and had never lost a battle. He had always been cunning and observed his opponents letting them think they were winning so he could study their moves, find their weakness and then he would attack. But he had had no time to put that strategy into action when these heathens had attacked; because there had been too many of them. He narrowed his eyes at the platinum blonde male that had been missing an eye; the one that had put him in chains. His brother was in another boat bound for another part of the heathen homeland.
He didn't know what pissed him off more: defeat or his brother being ripped from his protection. Either way, he had asked for excitement and now it seemed he had gotten more then he bargained for. Once they reached land he would find a way to break free of his chains and would fight to save his brother. Even if he died in the attempt he will have at least gone down fighting; unlike his father who had died squealing like a pig. He twisted his face to see behind him and frowned when he saw his brother in neither of the ships behind him; then again it was hard to see anything in this fog.
Where was his little brother?
Mokuba sulked he didn't like not being near his older brother. He was also a little afraid that he would never see his older brother again. Well, not that he had seen his older brother since the attack; but that was beside the point. His older brother was always a source of strength for him and now the younger brother began to wonder if he would ever be strong like his brother without his shinning light.
His eyes wondered around the closest captives to him in the long boat. The females were beaten down animals: their clothing ripped and their hair messy and their bodies were practical bruised everywhere. The young boy began to wonder what exactly would cause such a morbid and broken display of the women from his town. He turned his attention to the men and realized that while most of them looked a bit worse for wear they were essentially alright and looked more then a little anger. He twisted again trying to see his brother threw the fog only to pot unhappily when he still could not see his brother.
Arora sighed and lowered her head hidden behind her messy and tangled hair. She shuddered thinking about the man's hands on her and remembered looking into the darkest eyes she had ever seen; they reminded her of cold winter nights with the fire burning brightly. They had had a strange combination of cold and heat about them that caused Arora to fear him with all her being. Even now in another boat she feared him and she knew down to her very soul that the day of her capture would not be the last encounter she had with him.
Even though they were on separate boats she could still feel his hands on her. He was on the boat leading the Viking ships and the ships with the slaves and treasure. He hadn't looked at her once but she could feel the eyes of the other Vikings on her and knew she was being watched to make sure she and the others didn't try to escape. But, what escape was there but death? Some people believed that death would be preferable to slavery and that was proven when one of the townspeople had tried to escape. They had nearly succeeded but a Viking had dragged him back off and under orders from their leader had lopped off his head. The head was now hanging on a pole from the ship his head a reminder and warning that escape would not be tolerated.
She was rather surprised that the former knight hadn't escaped and she wondered what threat he had undergone from the leader of the raid to install his obedience. She also wondered what sort of treatment would be in store for him; she didn't want to find out. She wished the Viking leader had killed her after he had finished with her. Surely death would be better then whatever it was they had in store for her.
Yami stared ahead at the calm waters, silently giving his thanks to Thor and Odin for their protective presence and good weather during the raid. He also thanked Freya for her gift of the heathen beauty. He could hardly wait to get home so he could bathe and get the girl to bathe has well. While taking care of sheep had given her an excellent body she smelled like she was a sheep. That was something he could not tolerate; not from his bed thrall at least; let the other thralls stink up their little huts but the girl would bathe daily.
He sighed, his father would be happy to see him return with such bounty and his younger brother would be eager to hear his stories. His mother would be talking to him about marriage again. It was not that he disapproved of marriage he just didn't want to be married at the moment he was having far too much fun raiding villages for thralls and other heathen goods. Much like the dagger he had gotten off the heathen boy; he would have done good in the metal worker's shop. But there was nothing better then a Viking Blade. He smiled to himself watching the moon lower in the horizon; they would soon be home.
Joey sighed and continued rowing the long ship across the water. He could barely feel the strain of his muscles and the ache in his back; because with every row of the oar he was that much closer to home. Which meant he was that much closer to Mai and his mother and that much closer to the comfort that could be found there. He enjoyed the raids, enjoyed the rush of battle and the thrill of victory; but he also enjoyed drinking Mai's mead and working in the carpenter shop owned by his grandfather.
He enjoyed the life of a Viking but he also enjoyed the simple things in life. Soon he would have enough boon and gold to be a suitable husband for Mai but until then he would enjoy having fun with her.
Pegasus sighed and leaned against the mast holding the sails up to catch the breeze; he would soon be home with his niece, his only living relative. His sister and wife had both died of fever five summers ago. He had spoiled his niece, Pernia, now sixteen since the time of her mother's death; the girl's father having been killed in combat in the girl's infancy.
He frowned now, thinking of his troubled niece. Before her mother's death the girl had been sweet tempered but now it seemed that she went from one extreme to another in the blink of an eye. He had seen it happening slowly at first then the older the girl got the extreme and often times violent her tantrums and mood swings became. At first he had chalked it up to seeing the death of the girl's mother but then it seemed she slowly got over the mourning and the mood swings remained. It had to be something else; the question was what had it been that had driven his lovely little niece to such extremes?
Back in England Ryou awoke to the rain pouring down on his head and mixing with the blood; he blinked several times to get his head cleared before slowly getting to his feet and looking around. In the distance he could see parts of his cousin's clothes but no sign of her. He closed his eyes and screamed.