Frida

Chapter 18 - Lagertha

Frida laid in the guest bed at Floki and Helga's home, naked and warm beneath the furs with her eyes closed.

The children were not sleeping in the long-hall of the house, but they had shared a bed up on their bedloft where Bjørn too had gone to sleep. Frida heard the subtle murmur of Ragnar and Floki's voices near the fire behind the bed curtain, and she snuck her way even further down the covers, praising the nice warmth of the room. Fall was getting closer and closer, and the cool wind was squeaking across the floors of the house.

Frida reached her hand up to the golden necklace that was pressed against her chest between her breasts. She was certain that it was a gift from the forces of the nature. Ragnar and Bjørn were sure that it was a gift from Freyja. Floki...

She was still not really convinced that he truly believed her. But she knew for certain that some force wanted for her to prove him something. And she had this evening, whether Floki wanted it or not.

Frida opened her eyes when the bed curtain was pulled open to see Ragnar come crawling in, his eyes red and bleary. He was tired, she could tell, but as he pulled the curtains close, he did not collapse next to her on the bed. He rested his head in his hand, elbows on the floor of the bed, looking at her with a small curl on his lips.

Frida pushed herself up on her elbows too and smiled at him teasingly. "Why don't you lay down, my king?"

Ragnar breathed out while rolling his eyes dramatically before squeezing them at her, passion shining from them. He gently let his hand sway over the black fur covering her body, a finger teasing her skin at the top of the cover, tickling her collarbone gently.

"I think it is funny," he whispered softly, "how our gods have such great interest in you."

Frida stared at him and him at her, his eyes piercing at her skin.

She sank hard. "I really don't know why..."

Ragnar silenced her with his finger pressing down on her lips, and he crawled up to her so that his face was inches from hers. His eyes were shining so intensely, she would have sworn that they were not of this world.

"I do," he breathed on her skin, reaching his hand up to pull her covering fur off her.

She felt her exposed skin shivering, and she watched as Ragnar bent over to kiss her belly. He let his hands rest at her small bump, and she closed her eyes when he smiled up to her, her heart swelling achingly inside her chest.

She heard him sniffling.

"The seer promised me that I would have many sons," Ragnar breathed in between small kisses that he planted on the skin of her belly, "but I know that this... she... is going to be the most beautiful girl that ever walked on the grounds of Kattegat. I know it."

Frida felt blood pulsating heavily through her body, her heart beating with life and vigor, as Ragnar rested his face on her abdomen, chuckling breathily.

"And I..." he voiced softly, "I am going to love her so."

Frida reached her hands down to cup his face, and she felt tears gather at the corner of her eyes, her throat heating immensely. Ragnar turned his face so his forehead was leaning upon her bump, his eyes looking right into her, saying: "You hear me, sweet child? I love you, and I cannot wait to meet you."

Frida exhaled deeply.

"I love you," Ragnar whispered once more, and Frida felt goosebumps covering her skin.

"I love you," she heard herself whisper into the small space between them, her voice thick with a kind of unfamiliar passion. She closed her eyes when she felt Ragnar's face turn up towards hers, and she felt his hands grab at her hips.