Sword and Spice (Askeladd x OC)(Vinland Saga)

21. (Jun 1010) Heat

I shot a glance at Askeladd from my spot by my chest on Thorfinn's boat, feeling the wood's damp chill seep through to my bones as night descended on us as we drifted out at sea. He was perched in his usual place at the bow, slouched like some half-bored Norse god, a horned cup dangling from his fingers as though it might entertain him if he tipped it overboard. His legs were splayed wide in a careless sprawl, knees jutting out like he was trying to mark his territory, while he chuckled at some half-witted jest from one of his men-a sound as smooth and slippery as that sly grin plastered across his face.

The bastard.

It had been a month since our last exchange-a month since he'd lingered in my space, his words skimming over me like fingertips, stirring up trouble just to see if I'd bite. When we hit landfall, he went back to treating me like yesterday's smoke, drifting off as though the flirtation had evaporated with the sea mist. Even when he gave orders to me and the other archers on another mission of his, his gaze barely glanced off me, a mere flicker of acknowledgment-just another body he had to command, nothing more.

To say it irked me would be a charming understatement. It scratched at my patience like a persistent itch, one you can't quite reach, the kind that keeps you up at night wondering if it's you or the itch that's real.

I knew it was all part of his game, as obvious as the smug slant of his grin. After our last exchange, I'd raked through every word, sifted the pauses as if they were tea leaves, looking for hidden meaning. He'd flirted, all right, but his eyes had a razor's gleam to them, like a fox peering out from the brush, already calculating the distance to the nearest target.

It didn't take a soothsayer to see that he wasn't charmed by me. No, he was studying my reactions, poking at the edges to see where the cracks might form. Testing the waters with a sly toe dipped in the shallows. But why?

Why, why, why?

I shouldn't have played along, of course. But there's something about the magnetic pull of curiosity, the way it drags you toward danger with a finger crooked and a whisper of, 'Come on, it'll be fun'. I wanted to see just how far he'd push, what kind of endgame he had tucked up his sleeve, and if I could catch a glimpse of it before he laid his cards down. So, I resolved to wade in, take it slow, trade barbs and smiles, see if I could tip the game in my favor.

Could I make him start to like me, even a little?

Not a snowball's chance in Hell.

But if I could make him think I was softening to his charms, make him believe he had me dangling on a hook, then maybe I could steer this game in a different direction entirely.

The question was, which way was I trying to turn the tide?

Thorfinn was one place to start. If I could lift even a fraction of the burden from his shoulders, it would be worth the trouble. If toying with Askeladd's game could nudge Thorfinn back toward his father's path, then why not?

After all, a gamble is only foolish if you've already lost-and the dice hadn't even left my hand yet.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen? Rape was still a possibility, lurking like a shadow in the corners of my mind. Not from Askeladd-no, he had a different kind of malice in him, too clever for that. But his men? That was another story. Yet even there, I had a peculiar sort of assurance. Askeladd had made it clear where he stood when he backed me over Aksel, putting the man in his place, helping me, in a way, to win that fight.

He wouldn't order his men to cross that line-not out of kindness, but because even in cruelty, Askeladd preferred his own rules.

Death was another possibility, though Askeladd wouldn't send his men after me for that-at least, not unless I royally screwed up and turned him into a worse enemy than he already was.