Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter XLVI - Heida

The tension instantly fled from his brows, his obvious relief wholly unexpected.

Roth rushed therewith to her side and knelt before her. "Is that all?" He then pulled her in for a brief but deep kiss, his mouth warm and calmative — this was not a kiss to incite, but one to soothe. "Gods, Heida," he said, pulling her with him as he settled them on the hearth rug, "I thought you had changed your mind."

"No! Never!" She could see how he might have thought that and was instantly remorseful. No wonder he had been furious, for he had feared for her safety, and convinced himself of her forthcoming abrogation.

"I know what people will say, because I have thought it myself more than once before — sweet, snowy, Heida, with the moon in her complexion, what does she want with the black-hearted, Roth? The dark twin."

"And I can not but wonder why you should want a wife that has just declared herself to be barren?

"I do not want a brood mare. I do not care to populate the earth with monsters. I only want you, and I shall take you howsoever you come — whether toeless," he jested, alluding to their earlier badinage, "or barren, it matters not to me."

With a happy cry she pressed her lips to his in exultation and squeezed him so tight that he fell over laughing.

"Woman, you do not know your own strength!" He chuckled as she lay atop his chest, gratified and happy ... finally. Well, save for Frida's draugr-like shadow overhead.

"For my part, I do not care what people think!" she said, alluding to his earlier comparison. "The moon belongs to the night; and I to you. Whatever darkness you think you have, I will never let you dwell there alone. I promise you that, Roth."

His eyes dropped to her mouth as she spoke, as if reading the truth of her conviction, lest his ears deceive him. "Eirik is right, I do not deserve you."

Heida sat back up and took his hand in hers to press his palm at her heart. "Whatever you think you deserve, you have my heart." She watched his eyes drop to her chest, and after a moment his lips curled wickedly. "Why do you smile so?" she asked, earnestly.

"Because I am distracted by where you have laid my hand..."

When his meaning became clear she laughed and gave him his hand back, watching as he sighed wistfully.

"It is I, Roth, who does not deserve you, for I will be an unproductive wife," she said, endeavoring to hold her smile despite the relapsing solemnity.

"As to that, you will not be childless," he said. "My sons are motherless now ... no thanks to me." His jaw clenched.

Considered him quietly, she lay back atop him and rested her chin on her hands that were splayed over his sternum. The mood was now thoroughly subdued, the mirth of earlier having vanished, for he had obviously not forgiven himself for Frida's death, and nor had Heida forgiven herself. Perhaps they never would; and was not that their shame to bear? It was right that Frida should weigh heavily on Heida's conscious, but Roth had not been in his right mind, so the fault could not possibly be his.

They lay still a while, each in their own thoughts, and the quietude that thence settled over them became steadily thicker with tension as he stroked her back. Puckering wherever his fingers trailed, her flesh began to heat even as her blood began to simmer.

She traced the veins running just below his skin and wondered at the blood that pumped therein. Realizing that they still had not discussed the matter of his bloodline, she stilled her hand. "So you know who my mother and my father were, but I am acquainted with only one half of your parentage." Biting her lip, she scooted further up his body and kissed his neck. "You still have not told me who your father is."