The Scarred Viking's Bride (On Temp. Hold)

One

Ten years later...

Britta

"Aunt Bri! Aunt Bri, stop tickling me! You're going to make me pee my britches!" Leif's loud shriek rang throughout the crowded hall. Members of the clan looked on at us with mirth, a few chuckling at his beet red face.

Numerous people sat by the giant crackling fireplace at the back of our manor's food hall which could seat nearly everyone in the village. The massive fire warmed the grand space and typically remained lit until the wee hours of the morning. The dark intricately carved beams arched high above us on the walls connecting in the middle of the wooden ceiling in a metal candelabra.

Above the mantle, the Haraldsson family crest and colors of green and silver hung with pride on the wall. Food and ale filled the long oak tables as women, children and the elderly feasted on what the hunters brought back from this week's hunt. The men gathered in groups around the room, probably talking about battle strategy and whatever else happened this week. Pappa, Kare, and Ran were somewhere in here. A low constant hum energized the hall as people laughed, gossiped and chatted to one another.

I laughed at my chunky little nephew who was squirming in my lap, attempting to get away from my fingers tickling his belly. Leif stopped suddenly, lying horizontally in my arms.

He huffed, giving up, and crossed his arms. His curly copper hair flopped over his eyes as he glared up at me, his big brown orbs flashing in annoyance.

I playfully stuck my tongue out at him, pestering him. I should not say my little nephew, as he was the oldest of all my nephews only seven winters old. But he keeps up with all my frivolity that we do within the manor, sometimes even taking the blame for my larks. That is one of the reasons why I loved my little Leif.

Straightening my crooked brooch that held the thick red cloak over my green silk gown, I sat him down next to me on the cushioned bench before whispering to him, "Better eat all your food or else your mama shall have you for the last course." I winked at him in jest.

Leif's eyes narrowed at me in mistrust then anxiously looked around the hall looking for his mama.

I glanced around as well looking for my older sister, Astrid. With her shock of hair the color of chestnuts in the time of harvest, she could be found very easily in a crowded room.

Spotting her copper head making her way towards us, I quickly shoved some dried fruit on Leif's nearly empty plate. He gave me an annoyed look knowing how much he could not stand fruit. I nudged him in the side gently with my elbow, silently telling him to hurry and eat it. With a heavy sigh, he shoveled all the fruit into his small mouth and with a few chews, swallowed them all.

"Leif, I hope you did not shove all of those dried apricots in your mouth. You shall choke with your mouth that full," My sister scolded her son gently as she stopped just behind us.

Her face had a soft rosy glow from standing by the fire and being with child. Astrid took after Mamma with her small frame. A pert nose, slightly strong jowl, and dark brown eyes graced her lovely face. She did take after Mamma with her motherly demeanor as well.

Her swollen belly nearly brushed Leif's shoulder as she bent down to kiss him on the cheek.

"Mama, do not kiss me on the cheek. 'Tis not manly to be kissed by his mama in public," Leif whined, leaning away. Astrid only raised a single dark brow at her son in response.

I giggled at my sister. Sharing a knowing look with Astrid, we both rolled our eyes at his attitude. That same remark originated from our brothers when they were growing up.