"I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once."

~John Green, "The Fault in Our Stars"

Aaline examined her reflection in the mirror. There was a glow surrounding her that she wasn't used to. She looked brighter. Happier. She couldn't remember the last time she was happy. Truly happy. Ivar had taken her on three dates in two weeks. For their first date, Ivar took her on a mid-afternoon picnic. He'd stopped by her room around two and they'd walked out together. They didn't take a car. Ivar said the park was only a couple of blocks away. When she expressed concern for his hips, he only smiled and took her hand.

Ivar had clearly not packed the picnic basket himself but someone had taken care in their lunch. There was a mix of cheeses with crackers and fruits. Mixed vegetables and the option of red or white wine. Ivar favored the red while Aaline took to the white. They sat and talked, watching the sun slowly sink below the trees and turn the city orange.

Once the streetlights came on, Ivar stood and held his hand out to her. She took it and allowed him to lead her back to the house. She thanked him when he walked her up to her door. She complimented his idea and nearly laughed at the blush that arose on his cheeks. He admitted then that it had been Sibylle's idea but he appreciated the praise. She leaned into him to kiss him but he turned his head, letting her brush his cheek.

When she pulled back, she was confused. He'd smiled and cupped her face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones. "Allow me to do this right, min kjærlighet." He lifted his hands from her face and turned and walked away.

She had tried to kiss him later that week when he took her on their second date. They went to the movies and saw some action flick that only mildly held her interest. Ivar had gotten a large popcorn for them to share and two large drinks. He'd held her hand the whole time and when she tried to kiss him after he'd walked her to her room, he dodged her again.

He'd only smiled at her slightly pissed off look and pressed his lips softly to her forehead. She tried to act like forehead kisses didn't make her insides melt but she didn't think she did a good job when he winked at her as he retreated down the hall.

Their third date was earlier that week and she had been pleasantly surprised when Ivar took her to a dance hall. It looked like something straight out of the '40s with tables curved around the dance floor and a big brass band on the stage playing upbeat rhythms.

They had been escorted to a booth in the back that had a VIP sign posted on top. The waiter brought a bucket of ice with champagne inside and two flutes. The menu had been impeccable with varying types of food readily available. Aaline had gorged herself on lobster and crème brûlée. The champagne made her head a little fuzzy but she made sure to only have enough to relax.

After dessert, Ivar pulled her out onto the dance floor and swung her around like she weighed next to nothing. She briefly wondered about Ivar's hips but he always spun her around before she could spend too much time thinking about it.

They danced for what felt like hours, swinging around the dance floor in sweeping arches. Her dress had whipped around her in a frenzy. Once she and Ivar had taken their seats again she'd been giddy with excitement. Her blood rushed through her veins faster than it had in years.

It wasn't until she was lying in bed staring up at her ceiling that she realized her face ached from all the smiling she'd been doing. She fell asleep with it still aching.

Today was Thursday and Ivar was taking her on their fourth date. She was excited. It had been a while since she'd been excited about anything but she was excited about Ivar.

She stopped applying her makeup and just stared at herself. She took careful stock of how she was feeling. Her stomach was in knots, the kind that made her heart race and her lips curve up into a soft smile. She was flushed, her cheeks and chest a faint pink that reached up her neck and below the line of her sweetheart dress.

She jumped when a sharp knock came to her door. She took a deep breath, ran her eyes over her reflection one last time and stood.

She opened the door and was breathless. Ivar stood before her in crisp black jeans and sturdy black boots. A black v-neck sweater stretched across his chest and made his shoulders look thick and strong.

The hollow of his throat was nestled flush against the V of the fabric at his throat. She wanted to lick the tendons at his throat and make him quiver. She felt an overwhelming sense of longing rush through her core and she blushed. Ivar cleared his throat and turned to the side, sweeping his arm out and waiting.

She sighed and smiled up at him, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

She felt him descending the stairs behind her and forced herself not to turn. She could feel his eyes on her back like the heat of the noon sun, heat scorching her back and burning into her flesh. She let him move around her and open the front door.

She stepped out onto the front step and froze.

Sitting pretty in the circle drive was a sleek, black motorcycle sparkling beneath the lights of the house. The bike itself was black with blue stripes down the sides. Two helmets rested on the backend.

She felt a warm hand at her back between her shoulder blades and turned to her husband. His face was blank but she could read the question in them.

"You have a motorcycle?" She asked. Her voice was whisper soft and she cleared her throat. He glanced from her to the bike and back again.

"Will you ride with me?" He asked. She could hear the hesitancy in his voice and the sudden urge to quell that fear swelled inside her until she felt like she was drowning. She nodded jerkily and he smiled.

She let him lead her down the steps and towards the machine, her knees feeling suddenly weak. Ivar took the smaller of the two helmets and faced her, holding it between them. She took it in careful hands and settled it atop her head. She pushed stray strands of hair away from her face. Ivar placed both hands on either side of the helmet and made sure it was tight.

He took her hands and urged her onto the bike. She had never been more grateful for jeans than she was at that moment. She settled astride the bike and sat up straight waiting for Ivar to follow. He put his own helmet on before swinging a leg over the massive machine and setting it straight.

He released the kickstand and turned his head. "Wrap your arms around me." His voice was slightly muffled but she heard him. She wrapped her arms around his waist close to his hips. She locked her left hand around her right wrist and felt him chuckle.

"Tighter, min kjærlighet." She shivered. She didn't know what it meant but it sent shivers down her spine and heat straight to her center whenever he said it.

She tightened her hold and felt him chuckle again. She felt the beast come to life beneath her and pressed closer to Ivar's back. She felt him press back into her before they were off.

She wasn't sure if she screamed or not but she didn't much care.

She had never felt both fear and exhilaration quite like this before. She felt like she was flying, zooming through the air with nothing holding her back. She felt weightless. The only thing she could really compare it to was the sudden weightlessness she felt at the top of a rollercoaster just before it dropped down.

She lifted her head and watched the city speed past them, lights streaking by in a flurry of motion. Ivar never slowed enough for her to truly see where they were going.

After a time, Ivar stopped and she looked up. They were sitting right outside what looked like a park. The path was illuminated with rustic lamp posts and fireflies. Trees lined the path at evenly spaced intervals, disappearing behind the back end of the trail beyond Aaline's line of vision. Benches sat situated sporadically along the trail, a few stray park goers resting on the benches before they made their way home.

Ivar settled the bike close to the curb and swung off the seat, pulling his helmet off. Aaline took off her helmet before getting off the bike. She glanced at Ivar and smiled at the hand he held out towards her. She took it and let him lead her away from the curb and into the park.

His fingers were warm around hers and she could feel that heat spreading from her fingers up her arm and to the center of her chest. He radiated warmth and she fought off the memories of him in bed with her. His warmth seeped between the sheets and made her feel safe and at peace. She couldn't remember a time when she had ever felt like that.

Ivar took her down the well-worn path through the park. The sun was setting but the sky was still light enough for them to see by.

Their hands swung lightly between them as they walked. Their pace was unhurried as they made their way around the trail.

"What else did you have in mind tonight, Ivar?" She finally asked. Ivar turned to look at her and offered her a soft smile.

"I was going to take you to dinner. There's this little Italian place on the other side of the park. I figured we'd take a walk there and then take a walk back. It's a nice night for it." He squeezed her fingers and she grinned at him, the warmth settling low in her belly.

"That sounds wonderful." She whispered.

Ivar nodded and looked away, a soft blush coloring his cheeks. She looked up at the sky and marveled at the rainbow of colors as the sun sank below the cityscape. "I figured," She turned when Ivar began speaking.

"Since we didn't do things the traditional way, I thought it would be nice to go on some traditional dates. Make it easier for us to get to know each other." He shrugged and looked down, unwilling to meet her eyes. The smile on her face was tender and understanding. She wrapped her free hand around Ivar's arm and squeezed his hand. He looked down at her.

"What a wonderful idea." Her voice was soft. The smile that decorated Ivar's face was self-conscious but thankful. He squeezed back and they continued on their way.

.

She had never been in love. She wasn't sure what it felt like. If love gave you butterflies and made your cheeks turn pink then she was fairly certain she had it. She couldn't explain her reactions otherwise. She was in love with Ivar.

Saying it, even just in her head, made her stiffen. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be in love. It hadn't ended well for her father. She didn't fare very well because of it either. After all, she had been shipped off to every boarding school in Europe because of her father's broken heart.

Ragnar had been in love with Lagertha and they didn't stay together. She was certain that Ragnar and Lagertha still loved each other but they kept their relationship strictly professional. Björn loved Torvi and they seemed okay. They had two children together and still seemed very much into each other.

Ubbe had married Margrethe so he must love her, right? Aaline wasn't so sure. Ubbe always looked put out having to deal with Margrethe and she only seemed concerned with where her next drink would come from.

Hvitserk and Thora spoke for themselves.

Aaline wasn't sure how Sibylle could love Sigurd. He was always so cruel when Ivar was around and he pretty much ignored Aaline altogether. But Sibylle was adamant that he wasn't always like that. She said it came from his resentment towards his mother favoring Ivar as a child. Aaline tried to understand but, being an only child, it was hard.

"Aaline?" She startled when Torvi called her name. She was sitting in her office with Torvi, Thora, and Sibylle. They had been discussing their upcoming charity banquet. Torvi wanted to hash out the numbers for spending and Sibylle wanted to finalize the guest list. Aaline couldn't remember when she had stopped listening but clearly the other women had noticed.

"Where is your head? You've been staring off into space for a good five minutes now. Is everything alright?" Thora asked. Aaline cleared her throat and looked away, blushing.

"I'm sorry. Where were we?" She adjusted in her seat and pulled her files closer to her.

"No, no, no, you're blushing. Why are you blushing?" Sibylle cut in, her smile wide enough to wrinkle her eyes. Aaline sighed and sat back, settling her hands flat on the table.

"Nothing. It's fine." She heaved. Torvi and Thora shared glances and Sibylle snickered.

"It's clearly not fine. You've hardly been able to concentrate since we stepped foot inside your office. What is it that's bothering you?" Thora probed. Aaline shook her head and crossed her arms.

She looked at each woman individually, calculating if they would be willing to let it go. When she realized they weren't going to let it go, she sighed and uncrossed her arms. "Love."

All three women exchanged looks of confusion. Sibylle sat forward and placed a hand on top of Aaline's. "Love like, the word or were you speaking more towards the...the feeling?" She asked. Aaline pulled her hand out from beneath Sibylle's and licked her lips.

"The feeling." She clarified.

Torvi sucked in a long breath. "Towards a...person or just...in general?"

Aaline huffed and stood up abruptly. "I think I'm in love with Ivar." She said. The women were silent behind her. When she turned to face them, she wasn't surprised to see genuine shock and dismay on their faces.

.

"Wait, Ivar, did you just say you love Aaline?" Ivar glanced over at Hvitserk and huffed.

"I'm pretty sure that's what I said." He and Ubbe and Hvitserk were on their way to the docks to finalize business with some of the workers. Word had gotten to Ragnar that some of the men were unhappy with their wages and were threatening a strike. Ragnar decided to send the three of them to discuss terms and find a compromise.

"I don't think I've ever heard that word come out of your mouth, not even about mother." Ubbe chortled. Ivar scowled and hastened his pace. Hvitserk and Ubbe had to jog to keep up with him.

"We're not making fun of you, Ivar. It's just surprising, that's all." Ubbe said. Ivar stuffed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat, slowing his pace.

"I'm trying, alright? You told me to fix it so I am." He defended. Hvitserk and Ubbe shared a look before Hvitserk cleared his throat. "We did, say that I mean. You're right and, you know what," He wrapped an arm around Ivar's shoulders who tried, unsuccessfully, to shrug him off. "This is good." Ivar glanced at Hvitserk.

"What?" Ubbe asked.

"What? Men are supposed to love their wives, Ubbe. Ivar loving his wife can only be a good thing." Hvitserk slapped Ivar's shoulder and they continued on down the dock.