Stealing the Valkyrie

Restraint

If his little Valkyrie had wanted to escape then she had done nothing more than make a fool of them both and Rollo hated to be laughed at. He could almost see the look on Ragnar's face and the way the story would be told at the feast this evening.

'Rollo can't control his tiny Saxon, Rollo returned home like a wet dog, Rollo almost killed himself for a woman.' Perhaps that was the worst thing of all. Diving into the water had been a risk he'd taken with barely a second thought.

Maybe the Gods were teasing him. Or perhaps he was like all men, a fool for a beautiful face. Either way he was incensed. His blood was pumping in the way it did when he was in battle. But the only outlet was her, small and soaked and not daring to look at him.

"I could kill you where you sit, woman," he barked, dragging her onto her feet. She might not have understood his words but saying them soothed his ego.

She inched away from him and he followed, backing her up until she was against a rock and looking like a pitiful creature rather than the goddess who had slain Ake. Her teeth were chattering with cold, her hands desperately trying to cover her modesty as her undergarments clung to her shape leaving little to the imagination.

"There's nowhere for you to run," he said, his words softening as anger gave way to an altogether different feeling.

Greedy eyes now devoured every dripping wet inch of skin before resting on her breasts where pink nipples budded tightly against sheer fabric. Rollo swallowed hard, lengthening uncomfortably in his sodden trousers.

When his eyes finally trailed their way to her lips he saw they quivered with a tinge of blue and he urged to warm them. To crush his mouth against hers and cover her body with his, filling her with heat. He could almost taste her, almost feel her legs around his waist.

Kattegat was a short walk away and when he finished with her here he could take her to his bed and claim her over and over again. But stealing pleasure from between her thighs would leave her broken and he did not want a broken thing. He'd seen far too many men with one of those.

This woman standing before him was no slave or lowborn creature. She was the daughter of a great lord and betrothed to the son of a king. He wanted her to be on fire when they came together and that meant he needed to kindle the desire his body already burned with.

He reached towards her, his thumb wiping away a drop of water which lingered on the cupid's bow of her lips. How soft she felt, how shallow her nervous little breaths, how wide eyed and beautiful her face. Temptation pained him like the edge of a blade but this gentle touch was all he would allow himself. For now.

"Rollo," he said, thumping his chest like he'd done the first time he'd seen her.

She understood his meaning, he could at least see that much in her eyes and after a stubborn pause she whispered. "Edithe."

Now he smiled, repeating her name which was not too strange on his tongue. In fact, he could already imagine himself calling it out like his favorite word when the time was right.

"You are mine now, Edithe," he told her, knowing she did not understand but enjoying the pleasure of telling it anyway.

When they made it to the dock he shouted for Solveig who reluctantly fetched a blanket for him to cover Edithe with. He did not want her to fall ill with cold but more than anything his woman's body was not for other men to see.

"Do you want me to take her to your home?" Solveig asked and Rollo thought about it for a moment.

"I will take her. You can fetch the slave Haedde and some clothes for her to wear."

Solveig sneered, "you should make her suffer for making a fool out of you, Rollo."

"She is too beautiful to punish," he praised and Edithe returned his smile with a look of pure hatred.

"Then she will never learn," Solveig warned but Rollo was not concerned. He was not bringing home an obedient dog, he was bringing home a Valkyrie.

Unhappily his return did not go unnoticed by Ragnar who approached them now with his smile broad across his face. "You're a drowned rat, brother."

Before Rollo could reply Ragnar was already bypassing him, his focus on Edithe. He spoke to her in the words of her people and her face filled with surprise at the sound of it. Yet again Rollo was eclipsed by his little brother, born after Rollo but always one step ahead.

"What are you saying?" he demanded and Ragnar turned, smirking.

"I am saying welcome to Kattegat. What do you think I would be saying, brother?"

"She will learn Norse. No more talking in Saxon," he recalled Solveig's words, "or she will never learn."

Ragnar sniggered good humouredly but still his words tested him, "with you as her teacher then perhaps not."

So many times Rollo had been impatient and brute headed but not this time. Edithe would teach him restraint and he would teach her the ways of his people. "We'll see won't we," he said, squaring up to Ragnar, "little brother."

He placed his hand on Edithe's back and hurried her along, towards his home.

It was not much compared to some of the places he had seen in Briton but it was his alone and with two large rooms it was certainly big enough for the both of them. Although he would concede it was a little unkempt especially for the daughter of a Saxon lord.

He could sense Edithe's disapproval as he nudged her through the door. But he was not sure if it was the surroundings that bothered her or simply his presence in them. She eyed the room warily before her head turned towards the sleeping chamber, the bed freshly stuffed with hay for his return home and the soft furs spread across it as invitation.

He knew what she was thinking and by the Gods he was thinking it too but he had made a promise. One more little touch couldn't hurt. He reached for her, his fingertips tracing lightly over her spine. Beneath them he could feel her tense but it was only the first day. She would soften. He was sure of it.

"Welcome home, Valkyrie," he said and she moved away from him, slumping into a chair and tightening the blanket about her shoulders.

Rollo was used to icy waters of the Baltic sea but she was still shivering so he took the time to light the fire before he left to unload the longboats with the others. Tonight there would be a feast and he had already decided that Edithe would not be joining him. He did not want to conceal her but he wanted to enjoy the festivities instead of carefully watching her every move.

The slave he had sent for would keep her company. She was a Saxon woman who had been captured on their second raid to Briton but more importantly she was old and obedient and could teach Edithe the words of his people. For she would need to know them if they were to be wed.