The air was dense and heavy with the threat of rain. The blaze in the fireplace lit the room. Sprawled on the couch, a fair blonde laid down. Her eyelids remained closed in the sign of sleep that had taken over her thin frame. An open book rested face down atop her abdomenom. Letting his deep blue eyes cast a loving gaze towards the sleeping doll, the Dane watched his Norwegian princess as protectively as a Danish knight could.
She was so beautiful, he thought longingly. No woman in a thousand years could match her beauty. None could take his attraction towards her away.
So many centuries together. So many abstacles they faced to be where they are now. Just how could they still have such a strong love for each other after all these years of hardships? No way could the Dane answer that.
Upstairs, tucked so lovingly in her bed, was the full proof of their deep love. A little girl with the Norwegian's fair skin, light blond hair, and sapphire blue eyes. She might have adopted her father's slow-mind, but a glance at her outer form, and one could see her mother in every inch of her.
The Dane, a smile of triumph and joy on his strong expression, picked the book that laid on his love's stomach. With the leather-bounded papers set to the side on the end table, he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, draping the young woman's tiny body. His lips, warm against her temple, he planted a kiss of promise before retreating to a chair across the room, looking over papers to be brought to the boss of his Danish nation in the morning.
