GREETINGS AGAIN! One more chapter before the big episode tonight. :D I couldn't help it. I can't wait to fangirl and write some more after tonight. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Lots of intrigue, some action, and of course some fun character bonding and the like. I really do hope you enjoy the pace. I felt like Tolkien had taken over my fingers with these last couple of chapters because I just love the detail I am using. XD Is that shallow? IDK! I just like how it adds to the story. I hope you like it too. PLEASE REVIEW.

VIKINGS IS OWNED BY HISTORY CHANNEL. ORIGINAL PLOT IS MINE.

"We need more spikes along the coast there, and near the mouth of the river," Rollo pointed. "It may not be the Seine but the raiders could travel inland this way."

"Duke Rollo," came Fish's voice from behind him, the man approaching through the rain and mud. He entered the tent, bowing quickly. "We have put the last of the spikes on the beach and are ready, on your word, to travel on."

"It is the last stop, correct?" Rollo asked, pulling out a parchment map of the coast, surveying it. "Then back to the city?"

"Correct," he said, pointing at the last tower. "We are not far off from it considering it flanks the white cliffs."

"Good, how long until we can get there?"

"If we ride hard, and are not welcomed with flooding, it shouldn't take us more than half a day. If we leave now we will be there just past sunset."

Rollo nodded, turning to the hunter standing at the table. "Inform the troops we will be departing within the hour for the last tower," he told him, nodding at the list that sat atop the pile of papers. "Replenish our supplies with this from the city and meat us at the last tower. We should not be there more than two nights."

"Yes my lord," he bowed, taking the list and exiting the tent. Rollo turned to Fish now, a grin on his face.

"So," Rollo asked, pouring him some wine. "Are we prepared?"

"Very well," Fish said. "If there are any ships on the horizon, they will be spotted and the word will reach Paris within a week. We have ships to relay the messengers and horses at the ready."

"Good," Rollo said, pouring himself some wine. They drank for a moment, speaking of the remaining work that needed to be done. Then Torol came in, bowing to Rollo.

"My lord, we will be ready to depart shortly. Is everything in order?" he asked, nodding at Fish.

"Yes, the last of the spikes will be going up as we leave, around the river's entrance. The rest is already finished. The final post should be well fortified and the newest of the towers," Rollo replied, looking at his map. "This should not take us as long."

"Our trip has taken longer than expected," Torol commented, looking at the papers on the table. "What was meant to be a week-long tour turned into almost two weeks of work."

"We will be thankful for it when Ragnar arrives," Rollo commented, piling up the papers. "After this I must rush back to my castle, oversee the cities supplies, and then head straight for Paris. I will take a boat to better survey the defenses from the water."

"It will be much quicker," Fish nodded. "You should arrive in Paris within three days."

"Good," Rollo said, moving toward the door, strapping on his fur cloak against the falling rain. "Let's get going before the rains pick up."

The group of men traveled through the camp and around the guard tower, the wall around it reaching almost twelve feet, the thick brick ominous against the roaming waves over the sea cliff. They made their way to the stables, mounting their horses and taking off down the costal road. It was narrow but even, leading south along the coast until it reached the white cliffs, a set of breaks that are sheer ninety degree drops.

As the sun started to disappear, the daylight fading, they could hear the waves crashing into the cliffs. It was soon, when they crested the final dune covered in sparse and thin grass, that they could see the tower over the horizon. It jutted into the sky, its tall windows alight with fire, and the noise of the small town at the base of the cliffs was a sign that the tower was well fortified. As they galloped onto the grassy plains, toward the cliffs, Rollo could spot lights moving in the distance, over the grass from the city. They were moving quickly toward them and Rollo halted, motioning for the party to light their torches. It was difficult to do but soon they had a few lit, Rollo grabbing one and waving it at the approaching party. They responded with a wave and as they two groups approached one another, Rollo could see the familiar crest of his guard.

"My lord!" the solider at the front of the group yelled, bowing his head. "We were not expecting you tonight."

"I am on a tight schedule," Rollo replied. "Tell your lieutenant to meet me in his hall. I will be wanting a status report of the supplies, troops, and defenses. Tell him we will speak more in the hall."

"As you wish," the soldier nodded, turning his group back toward the town. As they approached the lights from the homes and tower illuminated the pathway, the large wooden gate lowering as they passed. Rollo allowed Fish to saddle his horse and made his way into the guard house. He went up the spiral stairs and into the tower, the double doors of the main hall open. Inside was an older man, his beard long and white. His eyes were narrowed and his back hunched but he wore a steel plated chest piece and a sword about his hip. Rollo approached him now, the man's eyes staring off into the distance.

"Sir," Rollo said, moving closer.

The man raised his head now, his eyes wide. He then moved, standing up and bowing his head. "Ah, Duke Rollo," he wheezed, sitting back down. "Please sit. You've had a long journey."

"Yes, and a longer one still," Rollo admitted. "I must be done here quickly so I need an assessment of all of your assets and defenses."

"They are here," the old man said, pushing a stack of papers at him. "It is all documented. My soldiers are informed that they will be assessed and our defenses upgraded."

"Do they need upgrading?" Rollo asked, looking over the paperwork in the pile as he sat down.

"The spikes are sharp, the walls are fortified, the supplies are gathered in triplicate, and our men are well trained, sober," the old man said, his voice stern. "We are ready."

"Good, I will assess everything tomorrow morning and if everything is as you say, we can leave in the afternoon."

"Thank you my lord," the man said, nodding his agreement. "Please, feel free to take my quarters for the night."

"Nonsense," Rollo said, shaking his head. "I will lay my head where I can. You sleep."

The old man nodded, standing slowly and shuffling from the room. When he was gone Rollo looked about, assessing the armor and weapons about the room. There were footsteps approaching and Rollo turned, watching the door curiously. In came his captains; Fish, Torol, and Devloo. They bowed and looked about, grabbing up the cups and pitchers strewn about the table. They drank and talked, Rollo informing them of the old lieutenant's words. After they drank their fill, the servants bringing in more wine and platters of food in the meantime, they dispersed, moving toward the barracks. They all fell asleep comfortably, the barracks warm from the fire burning in the hearth. It was Rollo who woke first, the daylight rising in the east as it poured through the windows.

He rose from the bed, pulled on his clothes from last night, and left the room, closing the door quietly. He was greeted by a servant in the hall who offered to escort him to his prepared room. Rollo accepted and after a quick bath and a change of clothes he was ready to eat. He didn't eat much filling his stomach with wine and bread before setting out toward the coast. It took him most of the morning to survey the spikes and order more to be placed, the guards getting to work digging the trenches. When he made it back to the town, he saw that it was alive with the bustle of everyday life. Merchants were selling products and guards were patrolling the streets. It seemed almost too simple. Rollo sighed as he watched the soldiers bustle about, gathering the timber needed for the spikes.

As he approached the tower he was greeted by Fish. "Everything else is up to speed," he assured, looking about. "The troops are well disciplined and the defenses are solid."

"Supplies?"

"They are plentiful," Devloo said, approaching from the stables. "They have plenty to last a siege."

"Then everything is ready for the invasion," Rollo smiled, looking out at the ocean. "We need to finish up here and head toward the city. I must depart shortly after, my friends."

"We will be eagerly awaiting your return," Fish assured, looking about. "Where is Torol?"

"He is talking to the old lieutenant, gathering the Intel on the troops the region has to offer," Devloo replied. "They have reserves that are to be sent to the fort for training."

"Good," Rollo said. "Let's saddle up. We'll leave here after a meal and a quick word with the lieutenant."

"Very well, I will inform the guard," Devloo nodded, leaving them to attend the soldiers.

"I'll tell the stable master," Fish said, nodding to Rollo. "They are in the hall. I'll meet you here when you are done."

Rollo simply nodded and took off toward the tower. As he walked down the street he couldn't help but admire the merchants and common folk. There were herdsman leading sheep and geese through the square and young maidens were gathering water and supplies for their night's meal. Rollo heard the fisherman calling out to the ladies and gentlemen overseeing the bazar and he could see the guards interacting with the drunks and wenches. It was then that he spotted her, standing under a canvas tarp selling fish. She was wrapped in warm wool but he could see, below her heavy layers and shawl, the swollen belly. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide in horror. It was the kitchen wench that he had bedded months ago. She was swollen and smiling, talking to another maiden eagerly.

Rollo didn't know what to do but he knew the longer he stood there, the more likely it was that she would spot him. He trotted on now, the rains sprinkling down as he passed, his eyes averted from the stall. When he had reached the entrance to the tower he hastily went in, looking about for Torol. When he entered the hall and saw him sitting at the table, talking to the gray lieutenant, he approached, clapping his captain on the shoulder.

"Torol, we must leave soon," Rollo insisted, smiling at the graying man across from him. "Everything seems to be up to standard. We must ride for the city and then I must depart for Paris if I am to reach the palace before the invasion."

"We do not know there will be one just yet," Torol insisted, looking up at Rollo. "Your suspicions are not solid evidence of an impending attack."

"I am sure it will come within a month and we must prepare," Rollo insisted. "The snows and ice are melting and the boats will be ready to sail. It is better we be safe than sorry."

"I agree," the old man said, leaning back in his chair with a crackle of his back. "We are better to be prepared than caught unaware."

"Yes, so let's go," Rollo insisted. "It has been pleasurable and I appreciate the urgency your troops have shown. Please, take care." Rollo then turned from the older man and led the way into the corridor outside the main hall. Once there he motioned for Torol to follow him out the side door and into the courtyard. Rollo then stopped, spun around, and narrowed his eyes. "When I wrote to you, all those months ago to find a home and husband for a servant girl at the palace, who did you send her to?"

Torol's eyes widened and he pondered, remembering the girl from all that time ago. He then smiled, nodding. "Ah, I remember her," he said. "I found her a merchant husband, in a fishing town not far from here actually. She's well taken care of. What brings that up?" His eyes then narrowed on Rollo. "Was there a problem with her? Should I have done something else? The man is kind and successful."

"It is all well," he said with a nod. "I only ask because it had weighed on my mind. She was kind to my wife in a troubling time."

"She is well looked after," the man nodded. "Her dowry was more than enough to find her a simple and caring husband."

"Good," Rollo said, stepping out into the rain from under the awning. "Let's go. We're meeting the others at the stables."

The whole ride back to the city was nerve-racking. The rain had become heavier and the roads had flooded with mud and clay. When they finally made it, the retinue close behind, they were greeted by a crowd of citizens, cheering and waving. Rollo wasn't sure what to make of it, waving to them as he passed. When he finally reigned in his horse and made it to the palace, it was late, the cool night creeping in. The salty breeze from the sea wafted over the city as the bells rang final mass. Rollo said goodbye to his captains for the night, going to his chambers and undressing. He was damp and cold and the warm fire burning in the hearth warmed his bones. He was stripped naked when there was a knock on his door. He grabbed his robe and tied it on, moving to the door and opening it to see another servant. The same from earlier, pale blonde hair and deep blue eyes. The boy bowed before offering Rollo a pitcher of wine, a cup, and some random meats and pastries. Rollo took them thankfully, sending the boy on his way before locking the chamber doors.

After filling his belly and drinking most of the wine he lay down, comfortably nestled in the furs and wool of the bed. He wanted more than anything for Gisla to be there, in his arms. He'd had no letter from her and was eager to see her. He would be back in Paris in a few days, travelling upriver as fast as the boat could carry. The image of the pregnant girl popped into his head now and he felt sick, shameful. He didn't know what to think; was the child his? Surely it was possible; the girl had left Paris when the snow was sparse, the frost setting in. Surely she was not pregnant at the time. Rollo rolled over in bed now, his eyes staring blankly into the fire. He was unsure what to do.

If he kept it a secret, no one could find out. The child would live and die with its mother and her husband and he need never worry. On the other hand, a couple of people knew of the servant's placement and he wasn't sure who knew of her condition. If even a rumor got out that the servant could be carrying the duke's child, problems would arise. He was also afraid of someone else telling Gisla. He wanted more than anything to keep this from her; she would not trust him and surely she would leave him for his unfaithfulness. He also didn't want her to find out from some rumor or a random lord or lady. If the news got out, he wanted to be the one to have told her before it even spread.

He groaned now, rolling back over and staring at the ceiling. The paintings of angels and luscious scenery were beautiful and the longer he stared, the more guilty he felt. It was only then that he noticed the face of one of the angels. Instead of fine blonde and golden hair the angel had dark hair and a beard. Its face was familiar, Athelstan staring down at him from the ceiling with quiet enthusiasm.

"You are a cruel ghost Athelstan," Rollo said, glaring at the monk. "Why do you chose to haunt me when I am least expecting it?"

"I do so because it is needed," he commented, his body detaching from the painting and floating down to the floor. He was aglow with gold and white and he crossed his legs, setting at the end of the bed. "You are troubled."

"Very," Rollo groaned. "It was you who warned me but I did not take heed. Now I am lost, trapped in a very undesirable situation."

"The servant girl is with child," Athelstan commented, watching Rollo knowingly. "What will you do?"

"What can I do?" Rollo snapped, looking at the monk. "I can both keep it silent and pretend to be ignorant or I can tell my wife and trust that she will still love me."

"Lying is no way to hold together a relationship," Athelstan commented. "She trusts you, loves you even… surely you can show her the same respect?"

"And if she does not forgive me?" Rollo asked, his eyes narrowing. "She is prideful and strong. She will not forgive my selfish disloyalty."

"You should give her the chance," Athelstan encouraged, his eyes bright with hope. "If she truly loves you, she will forgive you."

"You're a monk," Rollo said, looking at his friend. "You have not experience with marriage. Why should I take your advice?"

"You didn't last time," he pointed, a smirk growing on his face. "Perhaps you'd like to try again?"

"Fine," Rollo groaned, leaning back into bed, his eyes searching the ceiling. "Tell me, Athelstan, how did you find God?"

Rollo's eyes drifted toward the monk and found a silly smile on his face. He nodded and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "I had asked for a sign," Athelstan said, his eyes drifting to the past. "I had asked God to show himself to me. The torture in my soul was unbearable. I felt love for God and all of his creatures but I also feared the wrath of Odin, or Thor and of Freya. I found that in the world we lived in, the hatred that easily consumed us all was found in many religions, in many disguises. Because of this, because of my love for all men on this earth, God revealed himself. It was only after that I had tried to live an earnest Christian life again. Unfortunately, my time was cut short."

"Do you regret your time on earth, your doubts?" Rollo asked, eyeing the monk curiously. "Surely you regret coming to Kattegat?"

"No, for it was there that God revealed himself," Athelstan sighed, looking back at Rollo. "Soon you will see God's wonders and through you his will shall be done."

"I still do not see how," Rollo scoffed, rolling onto his side to stare at the monk. "I am simply fulfilling my duty to the Emperor. Once I am finished, I'd like to retire in peace and watch my children grow."

"Is that not the destiny you seek?"

"It wasn't," Rollo replied, looking back at the fire. "But it is now my only desire."

"That love," Athelstan insisted, smiling down at his friend. "Is what God has given us all. We forget that blessing and sometimes use it to justify our own ends. Perhaps your fate is to embrace that love?"

"Perhaps you're right," Rollo commented. "I do not know my fate but that is the way of the human soul. We do not know our own fate until it is upon us."

"Then you are wise," Athelstan smiled. "You may not want to believe it but God does have a plan for you, Duke Rollo."

"As long as his plan includes protecting my family," Rollo insisted, thinking of Gisla's soft and worried face. "Then I do not care what happens to me."

"Perhaps it will be so," Athelstan shrugged. "But your troubles must not overwhelm you. Like I have said, trust in Gisla. Perhaps you will be pleasantly surprised."

Rollo just nodded, watching the ceiling. Athelstan watched his friend closely now, both men sitting in silence on the bed. When Rollo began to feel tired Athelstan simply smiled, offering his friend something from his pocket. It was a simple silver and sapphire cross, the chain dangling from his fingers. Rollo looked at it curiously before reaching out to take it.

"It is for your wife," Athelstan said, nodding. "It will protect her while you are away. I know it weighs on your mind, much like Siggy."

"Every day," Rollo said, his eyes narrowing on the cross. He then took it between his fingers, inspecting it. "So simple yet so beautiful. She will appreciate it."

"Follow my advice Rollo," Athelstan insisted, standing from the bed. "You will be better off for it."

"You would not lead me astray my friend," Rollo said, grasping the cross and sitting up. He watched Athelstan saunter to the window now, his eyes on the dripping glass panels.

"I will come to you again," Athelstan said, nodding his approval. "Take care of your wife Rollo."

Rollo could only nod and Athelstan disappeared through the windowpanes, his figure fading into the dark rainy night. Rollo sighed now, falling back into his pillows, raising the cross over his head to better inspect it. It glimmered in the light from the fire, the candles going out on their pegs. Rollo watched the ceiling dim, the fire eventually being the only source of light in the room. He clutched the cross in his fist tightly as he drifted to sleep, the image of Gisla's crying face before him as he slept.

The next morning Rollo rose in a heated mood. He wanted to leave this castle and rush to his wife's side. It had been over a fortnight and he hadn't heard from her. He ached to be by her side and so he dressed in haste, dismissing the servant who offered him breakfast.

"Tell the stewards to ready my things. I leave for Paris today," he insisted. "I travel by ship so make the accommodations. Make sure they are ready to leave within the hour."

The servant left quickly as Rollo slipped on his boots and gear. He needed to leave soon and the faster he rode for the river's docks, the faster he could sail home. Though, technically Rouen and Normandy was his home now, without Gisla it felt empty, hollow. Rollo informed Fish of his plans, telling the man that he and his personal guard will return to Paris. He also told the man that if there was anything, a spotting of ships or a problem with the defenses, to inform him immediately.

It was only an hour later that he was on the ship headed back for Paris. The wind was at their back, the northern gusts sending their ship upriver in haste. As they travelled, the hours turning into days, Rollo inspected the banks and fortifications, each watch tower demonstrating the working order of their chains and archers. The rains didn't let up either, sometimes flooding the banks with silt and sand. At one point the sand was so heavily piled that their ship got caught on a sandbar, the crew taking almost a half a day to free it.

When they were back on their way, Rollo couldn't help but feel impatient. The fortifications were good, the ships that greeted them solid, and soldiers well trained. Rollo was pleased with all of this but he knew his heart would not calm until he had his wife in his arms. As they approached the widened part of the river, Rollo could see the spires from the city jutting into the sky. It was early still, the sun just peaking over the horizon as they approached. The trip had taken longer than he'd have liked, setting out almost five days ago. He wasn't sure what to expect when he reached the city so he was beyond surprised when the Emperor and his retinue met him at the city docks.

"Duke Rollo!" he said, holding his arms out for his son-in-law. The Emperor's lords and ladies had accompanied him along with the bishop, several monks, and Count Odo's retinue. Rollo searched their faces for his wife and was overjoyed to find her standing behind her father, her eyes wide with expectation. Rollo embraced his father-in-law, smiling at him with renewed excitement. "How was your progress? You must tell me all about it!"

"It was productive," Rollo said, nodding at the king. "Our defenses are solid and our soldiers prepared. I am expecting the first sighting within the month."

"So soon?" the Emperor asked, a flash of fear in his eyes. "Are we truly prepared?"

"The coast is defended, the chains and towers are fully functional, and the fleet is ready for deployment," Rollo assured, squeezing the Emperor's shoulders. "All is in place!"

"Wonderful news," Gisla interrupted, moving around her father to embrace Rollo. His arms wrapped around her tightly and his eyes were alight with relief. She looked well, almost glowing on the docks in the early morning sunlight. "But my husband has just returned and is in need of much rest. Surely we can speak tonight, over dinner father?"

"Yes!" the Emperor said, nodding his approval. "Tonight we shall have a family dinner. Just the three of us. You can tell me of your travels and of my beautiful country."

"I look forward to it your majesty," Rollo assured, keeping an arm firmly wrapped around Gisla. He could see Odo's disdain from here. The Emperor simply smiled and turned, his retinue following close behind. Odo approached Rollo now, bowing before smiling up at him.

"I take it your progress went well," he drawled, his eyes drifting over the two of them. "You must inform me of our progress and defenses when you have the time."

"He will not have time for quite a while," Gisla said, her hand finding Rollo's arm and holding it tightly. "Perhaps some other time Count Odo."

"Yes," Rollo interrupted, smiling at Odo. "I have had a long journey and so some rest would be much appreciated. I will meet with you later this week to discuss our resources."

"It would be much appreciated," Odo assured, bowing one more time before following the Emperor. When everyone had disappeared, and all that remained were Rollo's guard and the sailors who had brought him, Gisla wrapped her arms around his shoulders, capturing him in a tight hug. She was breathing roughly, her arms holding him against her closely. Only after a few minutes of holding one another did they separate, watching each other's faces with longing and admiration.

"I have missed you," he said, kissing her forehead. "I have missed you so much."

"And I you," she whispered, her hands clutching the front of his shirt. "Come, let's go back to our chambers. I want to spend some time with you."

Rollo simply chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and walking up the cobblestone street toward the palace gates. After winding through lords and ladies, servants and priests, they had finally made it to their suite, locking the door behind them. Rollo and Gisla remained in their bed the rest of the morning, making love and whispering sweet words in each other's ears. It was after the third time, when Rollo and Gisla had started breathing harshly, their bodies slick with sweat, that they took a break, holding one another in their warm lover's cocoon. They lay like that well into the afternoon, whispering to one another, Rollo telling her of the trip he has had. He told her about the rains and coast, the pirates and the guard towers, and everything in between. It was only when he spoke of the white cliffs that his thoughts turned dark. He was unsure if he should follow Athelstan's advice or if he should remain silent; both had dire consequences.

"What is wrong?" Gisla asked, her face searching his. "Are you displeased?"

"I am conflicted," he admitted, his eyes drifting to the ceiling. "I used to think that all I wanted was fame and glory. That my name should go down in history as a great warrior and leader. Now, I am not so sure."

"You are already a great warrior and leader," Gisla cooed, kissing his chest. "Now you must learn to be a great husband and a great Christian."

"I fear I am neither," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her hand spreading over his wide chest. "You've been kind to me and you have vowed to protect my people, giving up everything you've ever known. You are a good man Rollo."

"If you knew what I have done," he sighed, holding her closer. "You would hate me."

"You're so melancholy," she whispered, tracing circles on his chest. "Why?"

"I fear I have not been a good husband," he said, tracing his finger up her spine, her body warm against his. "I have committed a sin."

"What did you do?" she asked, raising up on her elbow. "Tell me the truth and you will be forgiven."

"Do not guarantee what you cannot deliver," Rollo whispered, capturing her lips with his. It was a slow, passionate kiss that sent chills down Gisla's spine, goosebumps forming on her skin. When he finally released her lips, his tongue dancing out over them, she could see the sadness in his eyes.

"What could be so unforgivable?" she asked, fear creeping into her gaze.

"Do not promise me your forgiveness," Rollo murmured, his lips touching hers as he spoke. "I love you so much and the thought of losing you over a hasty and stupid decision frightens me more than any raiders or army."

"Then speak," she said, holding his face in her hands. "Speak and see your soul unburdened."

Rollo watched her face now, the sincere honesty in her eyes reflecting the goodness of her heart. He saw the woman he had fallen for, her soft touches and fierce pride making her all the more alluring. Rollo looked away from her when the pain and fear entered her eyes.

"Months ago, when you were considering divorce and we were newly married," he began, his hands finding hers as he put some distance between them. "I took a servant girl. She had tempted me and when I found out she was going to be serving our household, I could not live with the guilt and shame. So, I assigned my captain in Rouen to find her a decent husband, far from Paris." He watched the horror in her face come to life, her eyes widening as he spoke. It was only when he was done, her jaw squared, that he knew she would not forgive him. His heart sank and his mind raced. He was not sure what she was going to say but he did know that she would not trust him again.

She sat up in bed now, looking down at him with fierce annoyance and jealousy. "You tell me this now because it weighs on your conscience?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"I tell you this because in my time away I came to miss your smile, your voice, your very breath," he admitted, his voice soft. "I could not forgive myself if you were to find out from a servant or some other gossip. You are a princess and deserve my love and respect even if I was unfaithful."

She pondered his words, her eyes cold and calculating as she watched him. He could not tell if she was contemplating his words or his honesty. He could only see her distrust and sadness, the tears she was trying to hold back finally gushing down her cheeks. He wanted to hold her, to pull her close but he knew she would not appreciate his touch right now. After staring at one another, her tears falling slowly and his own eyes reflecting the sadness she felt, she finally moved to the edge of the bed, her bare back exposed to him. He sat up and watched her, the blanket strewn across his lap as she steadied her breathing. She then turned to him, her eyes alight with determination.

"You've betrayed me," she whispered, her lips quivering. "I am hurt and I do not know if I can trust you again but I realize that your infidelity was my fault. I was not appreciative of you and acted like no good Christian wife. For that I apologize." She then turned around, crawling over to him and resting her head on his chest. "But I love you and your honesty has moved me. I do not know where we can go from here but I only hope that from now on, we will be truthful to one another."

Rollo's arms wrapped around her tightly and he sighed, his eyes misting. He had never felt like this, relief overtaking his entire body. He had not told her that she was pregnant and thought that, for a brief moment, it should be mentioned but he was silenced when she straddled his hips, kissing him passionately. All doubt had left his mind and all he wanted to do was earn Gisla's trust again, his arms wrapping around her waist tightly as they kissed, losing track of time once more, their bodies intertwined for the rest of the afternoon.

SO?! Rollo returns to Paris, everything seems to be okay... what do you think? Please REVIEW!