The Northman's Last Kiss *RetitledOriginally titled 'The Northman's Bride'

Chapter 6-Part 2

Recap of Part 1- Aleksi sends his father off in search of a priest.

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"That was very kind of you," Mimi said, lightly petting Aleksi's arm.

"Was it?" His eyes locked to the small boat as the Jarl, his father and his friend quickly scaled back into the larger ship.

"People like to feel useful around the dead and dying. Especially men. Men are terrible at waiting. They don't know what to do with themselves if all they have by way of work is to hold a hand or mop a brow."

"And woman do?" he pushed her slightly away and looked in her eyes.

"Oh, yes. Woman stay to the end. Tis not meant to insult you, Aleksi. You unfortunately will be forced to say till my end, I speak in general terms. Men flee from the sickbed of their loved one, go outside and chop stakes of wood, while the women remain indoors where it is the most difficult and face life and death with a comforting smile on our faces, even though we would vastly prefer smashing our axe into a tree as well."

With the small boat's retreat, Aleksi pivoted and sank to the deck, resting his back against the side rail and tugged her by the hand to come down next to him.

"If women are braver than men when it comes to tending the dying, I ask you to spare me your end. I wish to go before you. There is little on this ship for me to chop."

She looked around the fine cog ship, at the four large masts, yards and yards of railing and barrels and crates to the rafters above deck and below. She swept her hand out. "You have a forest of wood to chop and crates of fine pottery to smash. I on the other hand have lost all my callouses from working in the vineyard. Look." She held up her hands.

"They are soft as butter now. The mewling nuns-" She quickly crossed herself and said with her eyes closed, "Forgive me, father of speaking ill of the dead." She turned her attention back to Aleksi, with a meeker grin on her face. "The sisters forced me to soften my hands in vats of cream day and night so that they may pass me off as a higher than highborn daughter for my lumpish future husbandly owner. What am I to do all alone if you are to die first?" She picked up his arm and draped it over her shoulder and tucked into his side like a little bird hiding under his mother's wing. "I don't want you to go first."

He rubbed the side of her thigh for a long time, deep, kneading strokes that soothed her taut muscles. The powerful soothing strokes lulling her to sleep, yet her mind would not allow her to sleep. Once she slept, she may never wake...at least not wake to this state of comfort and well-being.

"What are your sisters names?" he asked in a sleepy voice. He no doubt was wary of falling asleep as well and was looking for any topic to keep awake. It was yet another sign of his kindness towards her. "I never had any brothers or sisters."

She popped her head up. "Arbella, Maria, Orilla, Amelia, then the boy Stephan, me and then Celine."

"Your father is very blessed."

"Pfff. He certainly did not see it that way. I swear, if poor Stephan had not been born a male, I may have been swapped out of my basket and sold to Gypsies in trade of a boy. Carrying on the Spoleto name is very important to my father. As I am sure it is to your father-" She covered her mouth. She was forever saying the most stupid and thoughtless things. "Pardon me. I did not mean to suggest-to say-"