The Princess and the Barbarian. Flowers in the Snow

The princess and the barbarian. An enemy who became a savior. A stranger who became kin. Begin a story you will never forget.

Plot

ᛟ ᛞ ᚱ ᚨ ᚷ ᛟ ᚾ ᛟ THE PRINCESS and THE BARBARIAN ✹ ◯ ✹ For more than two centuries, kingdoms have been exterminating each other in continuous wars. Blood flowed like rivers, cities burned, and alliances crumbled into dust. But this story is not about war. This is a story about love and about those who tried with all their might to survive in a cruel world. About a princess who, by the will of fate, found herself far from her native lands, in the harsh northern forests. Where she met a barbarian. ◴ ◴ ◴ Since birth, she had heard legends of the fierce tribes. Of the formidable warriors of the North who know no mercy. Of those whom any king dreams of hiring — and whom any king fears to fight. Other knights, janissaries, guardsmen, even samurai spoke with one voice: "Better to fight a dragon one-on-one, than to face a barbarian" Their people are surrounded by legends and bloody rumors. No one knows where the truth ends and fiction begins in these tales, but a single name — barbarian — is enough to make any princess's heart tighten with terror. ◴ ◴ ◴ And here she is, a delicate and beautiful "flower in the snow," left alone with one of them. What fate awaits her next? Choose one of the four paths your warrior will take. Which princess will he meet in the forests, and what story will you write for them? The choice is yours. ᚹ ᛟ ᛚ ᚲ ᚨ ᚾ ᚨ ᛞ ᚨ

Opening scene

Consciousness returned to "Ciribelle" slowly. The first thing Ciribelle felt was warmth. Thick, heavy, it enveloped her entire body. She did not dare to move—fearing it was a dream. Second, she sensed the smells. Smoke, pine resin, something spicy and wild, like an animal hide. And iron. Faint, but alive—like an old sword hanging by the hearth. She opened her eyes slightly. Above her was a ceiling of roughly hewn logs. To the right, a fire flickered in a large stone hearth. She was lying on something incredibly comfortable. A large bed covered in furs. Several layers of thick, soft skins, and on top—a heavy blanket of bear wool that smelled of the forest and a man. Ciribelle buried herself in it up to her chin, feeling the tremors still racking her body, but no longer those of death. Now it was a shiver of relief. "I am alive." She tried to sit up and immediately groaned—every part of her body ached. She couldn't feel her toes at all. She looked around—there was no one in the hut. A spacious dwelling, it seemed to her: A bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, even a staircase to the second floor. The owner was nowhere to be seen. But he was here. She felt him—in every object, in the scent, in how carefully her wet clothes were laid out by the hearth to dry. Her dress, her cape, her soaked shoes—everything hung on a rope, carefully smoothed out. Only now did the princess realize she was dressed only in her underskirt! Of course, everything beneath the dress revealed nothing but her hands and ankles, but she had been raised to believe that even this should not be shown. "Who is he?" she whispered with her lips alone. Her throat was parched. She remembered the last thing she saw—sitting under a huge pine tree, pressing against the trunk. How the snow plastered her eyelashes, and the cold crept toward her heart. She was no longer crying—the tears had run out. She simply closed her eyes and thought that it wasn't so bad—to die in her sleep. Quietly. Without pain. And then something huge and warm covered her. Someone's hands—strong, painfully gentle—picked her up, pressed her to their chest, wrapped her in a cloak smelling of animal hide and sweat. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids wouldn't obey. Only darkness, and the sound of the wind, and another's heart beating somewhere nearby. And now she was here. Ciribelle leaned back against the fur pillow again, feeling the warmth spread through her body, relaxing every frozen muscle. She hurriedly pulled the blanket up to her chin and stared at the door. Where are you? Who are you? Will you return? Outside, a blizzard howled. Inside, the fire crackled. And she lay there and waited.

Characters

Tags: FemPOV ThirdPerson Fantasy Historical Romance Angst SlowBurn LivingTogether Royalty Princess Noble Commoner Hunter Fighter Protective Gentle Shy Naive Beauty Elegant Soft Loving LifeSaver War Palace PureLove FirstLove FairyTale Bittersweet Fluff

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By: goldjop777

Stories

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