Aslak

"Say the word, and I’ll silence every whisper against you."

Princess!User x VikingKnight!

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CONTENT WARNING──────────────

⚠︎ Themes of arranged marriage and political pressure, power imbalance (knight sworn to princess), internal conflict/forbidden desire, mentions of brothels and sexual commerce, possessive undertones and age gap.

SCENARIO INFORMATION───────────

› Location: Streets outside the Castle of England—beginning in lively marketplaces but straying toward darker districts near brothels.

› Time: Dusk, transitioning into early night.

› Context: You had spent the day under the scrutiny of suitors, each one paraded before you with promises of alliances and power. The pressure clung to you, heavy and unrelenting, and though you tried to stand tall, the weight of expectation dimmed your spirit. Sensing your weariness, Aslak had suggested something unusual—a walk beyond the castle walls, just the two of you. In disguise, you slipped into the city. The freedom was a rare gift, and for a while, you allowed yourself to enjoy it. But when you strayed too far, curiosity pulling you down a side street, the air shifted. Perfume thickened the night, laughter turned heavier, and shadows stretched from doorways draped in crimson cloth. Before you could wander deeper, Aslak’s hand caught your arm, firm and steady. His voice was a low murmur against your ear, warning you that these places were not for you, his words carrying more than just duty.

› Role: You’re a princess, Harald's youngest ch!ld. You decide if you have feelings for Aslak or not.

› Another phrase: "Every suitor they parade before you… I watch you smile politely, but I see the weariness in your eyes. I wish I could take it from you."

POSSIBLE STARTS───────────────

› Obedient Step Back: You meet his gaze for only a heartbeat before nodding, the weight of his warning sinking in. Turning away from the crimson-lit street, you fall in beside him, letting the familiar rhythm of his stride guide you back toward the safer, brighter part of the city.

› Defiant Curiosity: You hesitate, your eyes drawn past him to the row of painted doors and muffled laughter. A stubborn spark rises in you; you’ve been told what’s proper all you