Valknut

CHAPTER|11 The Morning After

Come morning, everyone in the longhall seemed to be nursing a headache and a scowl. Servants busied themselves with the cleaning, gently rousing sleeping warriors and sending them to the bathing chambers before the morning meal. Outside, the Volvo handed each a mug of some sinister looking brew that only served to make them more nauseous. Not only did they cringe when the sickening smell struck their noses, they cursed the sunlight for assaulting their eyes and the noise from the bustling activity for pounding in their ears. People ran to and fro hastening to stock the ships before their departure scheduled for shortly after the mid-day meal. 

Olaf thundered into the longhall. Not pleased with what he had seen. Someone had dared to mock him this morning by hanging the smock he had danced in the night before at his ship’s mast. A reminder of the humiliation he would have to endure throughout the journey wasn’t the way he wanted this day to start. He barked at a passerby, ordering the smock be taken down and burned. Slowly he made his way to the still standing dais, looking for Kieran and Catriona but none had made their way to the tables yet. 

Slowly he took his place and waited to be served. Breakfast better be good he mumbled to himself. After leaving Catriona’s chambers the night before, he hadn’t slept a wink. This was not the first time he had been with her, alone and holding her, and the effects of her presence had, as always, left him restless and unsure. His mind clouded by the scent of her hair, his fingers still tingling from the touch of her skin, he had tossed and turned the whole night, wondering when he’d find the courage to speak with her. He sneered at himself for his inability to approach her. A strong and fearful warrior, one who had seen more battles than he wished to remember, one who was quite capable – and accustomed to – taking everything he wanted, was now unable to muster his courage to speak with a lass. 

A lass of all things! He shook these thoughts from his head as he stared down at the porridge that slopped around in his bowl every time he shook it making it even more unappetizing than before. As if there could be such a thing. How could porridge be any more unsavory than it already was? He cursed under his breath and shoved the bowl aside before searching through the people scrambling in for the one person his gaze did not chance upon. Deciding he could spend his morning in more productive ways, he set about shuffling towards the ships. As soon as he stepped out of the hall, his eyes instinctively sought out the window of her chamber. He squinted. 

Did he just catch her staring at him? Was his mind still inebriated and seeing things? He pulled his hand up to shade his eyes against the sun and saw nothing. Just an empty window. Disappointed, he grunted and walked towards the ships. 

Inside, furious with herself, Catriona smacked her forehead. What did she just do! Why did she avoid his stare? Reflex? But why? More importantly, why was he staring at her? Surely he couldn’t have been? Did she imagine it? No, couldn’t be, she looked straight into his eyes. He was looking at her. But why her? Equally importantly, did he see her hide? There’s no possible way. But she knew that he had. No matter how much she told herself that he hadn’t, a little voice inside her squealed in delight – he did, he did, he did. 

Oh how she longed to strangle that voice into silence. But that longing is only halfhearted the voice in her head giggled. She wondered what he’d thought when he saw her staring at him. The rumblings from her stomach reminded her that a meal was due. She quickly made her way to the basin and scrubbed away the remnants of last night’s festivities. The smell from the smoke, the food, the air in the hall, and all the mead was none too pleasing to her nose. Today, she decided to discard the tunic and breeks for something more ugh becoming of a lady. She had been informed that Lady MacShane was visiting and she knew she’d get an earful for not sporting appropriate attire. 

Olaf had never seen her in such attire she reminded herself. Correction, not many people had seen her in a gown. Why did her mind try to point out whether Olaf had or hadn’t seen her in a gown? Probably because he’s see you without it, her mind reminded her. Without, without, without her mind giggled. A deep blush set in as Catriona recalled the incident.

Several weeks ago, she had tossed and turned in bed unable to catch any sleep. Tired and sore from the day’s sparring, she decided a hot bath is what she needed. She threw her feet over the bed, grabbed her cloak and made her way quietly out of her room. All were asleep. Except the sound of snores, nothing else could be heard inside the castle. She tiptoed to the crudely constructed bathing chambers in the bailey and took another nervous glance around her. 

All was still. 

She sighed with relief and rushed into the chambers. A hot soak was coming right up! Quickly she shed her clothes, grabbed the buckets of water sitting on top of the hot stones and began filling the tub. She rummaged through the vials on the shelf. Rose, jasmine, lavender she brushed all the oils aside. Her hand settled on her favorite combination – cinnamon and apples. She mixed a few drops from the vial into the water before stepping in. she closed her eyes and rested her head on the edge of the tub. 

Without meaning to, she fell asleep. A loud banging and what sounded like noise from rattling empty buckets woke her from her slumber. Soft curses followed and Catriona shrieked and jumped from the tub when she realized who it was. As she ran for her cloak, Olaf stepped into the chamber. “Get Out! Get Out! Get Out!” she screamed, but she knew he had seen her. 

Since he’d seen her naked, the gown mattered how now? She looked at the gown again. This would have to do she muttered. The deep green outer skirt and light green inner skirt would offset her eyes and stand in stark contrast to her flaming red hair. The gold from the embroidered neckline would add to her glow. Long sleeves… now those were cumbersome. She welcomed them for the warmth they offered her hands but also cursed them. They stretched from shoulder to wrist where they opened to allow her dainty hands through. The material then trailed from her wrist to her knees. The entire length of the trail was frilly and embroidered to match the neckline. Were such sleeves actually necessary she mused. 

She wondered what to do with her hair. Leave it open? Nah, too informal. Tie a bun? Eeesh, what was she... a nun?? Braid it? Meh, too much effort. She caught herself once again. Back to Olaf is it? Why did she constantly find herself thinking about him? She opened her door and hollered for Ellie, her maid. The girl came scuttling in, and walked over to Catriona, amused with her indecision. Quickly she went about her task. She brushed Catriona’s curly locks till they shone, then added lavender oil to keep them neat. She segregated two sections at her temples and went about platting them to the back of her head where she pinned them together and added flowers. 

Once the girl left, Catriona looked over herself once more. She realized much of her discomfort came from feeling very … exposed. From the curves of her breasts, to the dip of her cleavage to her shoulders, slender neck and to the blades of her shoulders… everything was bare for eager eyes. Lady MacShane’s choices in dresses were too much for Catriona. She could change, but she didn’t want to insult the woman. She sighed in resignation. 

She pulled her hair over her shoulders and let it hang around her neck, feeling less uncomfortable now that some of her skin was hidden. As soon as she exited, she bumped into Kieran. His hand frozen in the air as if he were about to knock. She jabbed him in the ribs to stop him from gawking. Then reminded him that Lady MacShane’s presence dictated that she dress appropriately. Kieran locked arms with Catriona and led her to the hall. His mind a whirlwind after his brief interaction with his mother last night. As much as she didn’t want to hear it, Kieran reminded her that she must stay back. That she won’t be joining them in this journey. 

“Now that is unattractive for such a pretty lass”, Lady MacShane said pointing to the scowl on Catriona’s face. Her expression changed to a much warmer one as she hugged Lady MacShane and asked about her travels. The three slowly made their way down to the hall, Lady MacShane reminding Kieran at every step that it was too soon for him to be poking around McDermott lands. He simply rolled his eyes and attempted to steer the conversation - very unsuccessfully.