"Hello, Brother," Ragnar said as he Rollo took a seat at the table across from him, "How is Freja's training coming along?"

"She is very impressive, naturally skilled," Rollo explained, "She should be ready in time for our raid."

Weeks had passed since Freja had come to Kattegat seeking shelter. Rollo and her had trained together every morning at dawn and she was particularly good at wielding a sword or a small battle axe. Her movements were swift and fast. She was also becoming quite strong and could easily move while holding her shield in one hand and weapon in the other. Ever since their first day together, after that moment in the hot springs, the sexual tension between them was growing. Rollo had made no more advances and he could tell that she wished he would.

"What else has you so impressed by her?" Ragnar asked, "Have you taken her to your bed?"

"No—" he replied. He should just lie to his brother and say that he has had her. But he knew that Ragnar would find out from Lagertha that nothing had happened between them. Lagertha and Freja had become very close since her arrival. They had become fast friends, Lagertha taking the younger girl under her wing. Aslaug, however, was cold to Freja. She did not like her, clearly.

"Maybe you should take her as your wife," Ragnar said, "I am younger than you and I have two wives and I have fathered six children—five of them sons. Do you not wish to plant your seed in a woman?"

"I do not care for fathering children just yet," Rollo said.

"If you say so, Brother," Ragnar smirked, "I would take her as a wife if I did not already have two."

"Rollo?" Freja called, entering Rollo's modest home and looking around. She did not see him, perhaps he was out. She called again, "Rollo?"

"Here, Freja," he called from an adjoining room, voice sounding raspy.

He was sitting at his table, goblet of wine in hand. The room was lit by candles, as night had fallen and it was dark outside. The atmosphere was melancholy and he seemed upset. Freja took a seat across from him.

"Would you like some?" He asked, holding up his cup.

"Yes," she said, taking the goblet from him and downing the contents of it in one long sip. It was strong— stronger than any wine she had tasted before. She slammed the empty goblet down and Rollo smirked as he filled it.

"Why are you here?" He demanded, suddenly seeming annoyed at her presence. He was very hard to read most of the time.

"I—I...we leave at dawn for Northumbria," she began nervously, "Do you truly think I am ready?"

"Yes," Rollo stated, before drinking the rest of his wine. She wondered how much he had drunk before she came to see him. His face was flushed and his eyes seemed different.

Rollo studied the girl across from him, chest rising and falling. He could see the scratch on top of her left breast that he had accidentally given her while they sparred earlier that day. It had bled a little but she did not stop, she did not even acknowledge the cut. She knew that that was nothing compared to injuries she may receive on the battlefield during their upcoming raid. His thoughts suddenly drifted and he began to think— what if she did not survive. What if she gets herself killed. That was very common with men and woman alike, going on their first raid. He thought, tonight may be the last time that they are alone together. He wanted her. He wanted to claim her and make her his. Without even realizing, he reached over and grabbed her small hands with his. They sat there for awhile in silence, looking into each other's eyes, Rollo holding her hands reassuringly.

Suddenly, Freja was leaning over across the table and her soft lips were on his. His beard was rough on her delicate skin but she did not care. The kiss, took Rollo by surprise but he did not hesitate to return it with fervor. Rollo pushed the empty flagon and goblet off of the table and grabbed Freja's body, pulling her to him. She sat on the edge of the table in front of Rollo. His eyes were burning through her with a desire that she had never seen before.

"Take me to your bed, Rollo," Freja said beathily as he kissed her neck. He did not need to be told again. He picked her up and carried her to his bed. He set her down gently and hovering over top of her, attacked her mouth with his own in a kiss that could only be described as bruising and passionate. He forced his tongue into her mouth and she returned the bold gesture. She was drunk with lust for this man who she barely knew.

"I am not a gentle man, Freja," he growled as he ground himself into her, pinned beneath him. He wanted her to feel his growing arousal.

She knew what he meant. She had never laid with a man before and she knew that he knew that. She could feel his hardness through his breeches, rubbing up against her. She looked him in the eyes and nodded. She wanted to feel him inside of her, for she knew that the inevitable pain would soon after be replaced with pleasure. He began kissing, sucking, and biting hungrily at her delicate neck which caused her to moan and hiss at the sensations that she had never felt before. Pain and pleasure—this was only the beginning. She sat up just enough so that he could lift her nightdress over her head and toss it to the floor. She was now completely bare before him. He rose to his feet and took off his tunic and his breeches, his eyes remained locked on hers. He looked at her with such desire it made her tingle all over. Freja took in the sight of Rollo nude standing before her. She had trained with him many times whilst he was bare chested, but she had never really looked at him like she was at this very moment. Her eyes scanned over his muscular and hairy chest, impressive abdominals and then dropped down to his manhood—he was gloriously well endowed. She worried for a moment that she would not be able to handle his length and girth but those worries slipped away as he once again joined her on the bed.

"Are you ready?" He asked as one of his hands found her down where she was very wet. She needed him, she needed to feel him. As if he read her mind, he put one finger inside her and began to move it around before adding another. She moaned at the sudden invasion.

"Take me now, Rollo," she moaned as she felt him withdraw his fingers from her centre. He grabbed his manhood and stroked her entrance with it before he began to push into her—roughly, and then he remembered that she was not used to this. He would have to go slowly. She winced at the feeling of the first few inches of him entering her. She knew he was trying his best to not hurt her too much. He was also trying his hardest not to pound straight into her, hard and fast. He was not good at restraint.

Then, he did it. He pushed himself all the way into her, breaking her maidenhead as she cried out loudly in pain. He grunted as he withdrew a little before slamming back inside of her. There were tears coming from her eyes but he did not stop. The worst was over and now she would only ever feel pleasure from him. He set a rhythm with his thrusts, he was filling her up completely with his length. He could feel her walls clenching around him. Her cries of pain had turned to cries of pleasure as she raked her fingernails down his back, surely adorning him with scratches—marking him as hers as she was his. They came together, Rollo cursing to the Gods as he spilled his warm seed deep inside of her as she screamed his name. Rollo pulled the furs over them both as Freja rested her head on his chest. He absentmindedly played with a lock of her now tousled hair as she listened to his steady heart beat. If she was any other woman, he would have told her to leave by now. But she was Freja. She was his.

"Freja," he started but when she did not respond, he knew that she had fallen fast asleep. After listening to her steady breathing for a short while, he soon after let sleep take him too.