Princess Belflaed of Wessex is the key to financing the greatest Viking Army to ever set foot in East Anglia. The great Viking warriors Edard and his brother, Emet capture the Princess while her abusive husband lays siege to Lundon. Edard must protect their greatest asset at all costs, but Belflaed intrigues him and he finds himself falling for her. In the end, can he let her go?
A/N This idea came to me while I was watching The Last Kingdom (An awesome show if you haven't seen it). I wanted to write about my own Princess and Viking Lord, and see what I could make happen. This is the result.
You can find some music to accompany this in my fb group Creaatingmadness – come and join us.
Warnings: Contains mentions of abuse, graphic sex, and violence.
I have a few thank you's before I start: Firstly, to Ariel (FanficsR4nerds) who's help and expertise on Norse culture was invaluable. To Pearly (Pearlyfox), Mani (Maniacalmuse) and Steph (littleashes17) for pre-reading and helping me have the confidence to post this. Finally, a huge thank you to MeteorOnAMoonlessNight for beta'ing! They are all incredible writers so do go check them out!
Now, let us turn to England in the mid ninth century, where our tale is set…
ooo
Athelstan's horse trotted forward, its hooves clacking on the paver stones in the courtyard. The sound was mirrored tenfold behind him as his men followed his forward march. The air was full of the clinks and rattles of shifting armour, hoofbeats and laboured breaths, but aside from that din, Lundon was quiet. Far too quiet to be full of heathens, which is what brought Athelstan to its doors.
Lundon was part of Mercian territory—his territory, should he ever officially be made king. Athelstan's hands tightened on the reins of his brown mare. His presence in Lundon was at the behest of the King of Wessex, and Athelstan despised being told what to do. He was given no choice in the matter; the Witan had declared the Viking invasion of their city an infringement upon God Himself.
Unease flickered in Athelstan's belly as his man, Teowine, bade him to dismount from his horse, his hard grey eyes steeled as he surveyed the empty yard in front of them.
"Perhaps they heard of our coming and have fled in fear of God's wrath," Athelstan noted, touching his scabbard briefly as if to confirm it was still in his possession.
"It makes little sense," Teowine muttered. "Stay here, Lord. A few of us will proceed with caution. It could be a trap."
Teowine waved his fingers, and several dismounted men started walking forwards, their shields held in front, swords leaving scabbards with quiet metallic whirs. Athelstan stood by his horse, drawing his own sword. He left his shield attached to his saddle for the time being, wanting a hand free should he be urged to mount quickly again.
He had spent little time in Lundon, but he recognised where they were; the thatched roofs, cobblestones, and large buildings were a remnant of those who once dwelled by the river. He watched shutters open several feet away and immediately tensed, but the face peering out was a terrified-looking child, pale skin marked with dirt as he watched the Mercian Army in front of him.
They had only three hundred men, as the Dane force in Lundon was said to be just a breath more than ninety. Teowine reappeared with double the men he'd left with, his sharp features appearing panicked. "Lord, we met with the men breaching the other side of the city. The heathens are gone."
"Gone?" Athelstan asked, his eyebrows knitting as he stood to his full height. "A cause for celebration then?"
"I fear something is amiss, Lord." Teowine spoke quickly, sheathing his sword and approaching Athelstan. "We would do well to return to the camp. I do not trust the brothers, and my heart grows cold at the thought of your wife left so undefended with their whereabouts unknown."
Athelstan's eyes widened in horror. "Surely they would not…"
"Let us pray, Lord, and make haste." Teowine whistled loudly, and there was a flurry of activity as horses were mounted.
The company left the city in a tide of hoofbeats and yells, some in victory that Lundon had been abandoned, and others in panic over their loved ones who resided at the camp nearby.
When they arrived at the site, the ground was soaked with blood, bodies strewn around, faces permanently painted with expressions of horror and pain as they lay glassy-eyed on the red grass.
A single soul was spared, and when he was brought to his knees in front of Athelstan, he said only one thing, his voice no more than a whisper.
"They took her."
ooo
Belflaed woke with a sudden jolt, her heart slamming into her ribcage as she felt a large body pressed against her back, her hips rocking gently as the horse below her trotted forwards. Her head ached, and she started to groan before a sudden burst of hot air against her ear made her freeze.
"Awake again, Lady," a deep, husky voice murmured in her ear. His accent was thick, his words spoken with the slight lilt she'd long associated with the Danes.
Belflaed breathed out slowly. "Striking me was wholly unnecessary. I would have come with you."
"It was not I who struck you," he said in an amused tone.
Belflaed stared down at his tattooed hands gripping the reins, his elbows squeezed in against her sides to keep her in place in front of him. "What do you want with me?" she asked, glancing to her left and right and finding other Danes dressed in black leather and furs, their long hair flickering in the wind.
"Do you know who I am, Princess?"
His chest vibrated against her back with his words, and Belflaed swallowed. She was wholly aware of the danger she was in, surrounded by Danes, wrapped up in the arms of one; utterly defenceless.
"One of the brothers, I presume," Belflaed said stiffly. She had been waiting in the camp for her husband to return from Lundon, where the brothers Emet and Edard had apparently taken residence, when the camp had been overrun. It had been her husband's idea for her to travel with them. He liked to keep an eye on her, to have her within reach when he wanted to sate himself with her body. Belflaed had long since learnt to switch off physical sensation when Athelstan touched her.
Before they had married, she had been besotted and had begged her father, the King of Wessex, to consider Athelstan as a worthy suitor for her hand. Athelstan was a Lord of Mercia, and the marriage bond was useful to her father, but to Belflaed, that was of little consequence. Athelstan was handsome, intelligent, smiled at her with striking blue eyes and a comely face, and spoke to her in a gentle, soft voice.
The second they had been bound, he had changed. The first time he took her, she had expected the soft touches she'd heard tell of from her servants; instead he was rough, abrasive, harsh. There was no love nor passion in their conjoining. Belflaed knew it was not right, that there were other ways for a man to claim his wife that did not hurt so terribly, but when she spoke of it to him, he struck her.
"The question, Lady, is which brother," the man behind her said.
"It matters not," Belflaed said assertively. "Tell me what it is you want from me. I demand it."
There was a low chuckle in her ear. "Prisoners cannot make demands, whether or not they are princesses."
"Is she awake, brother?"
Another voice to Belflaed's left startled her. She turned and met vibrant blue eyes set in a rugged face, black lines snaking their way across his eye and forehead in circular patterns.
"She is," the man behind her said, that amused lilt back in his voice.
"Does she please you, brother?" The blue-eyed man chuckled. "Hump her, if you wish."
Belflaed tensed.
"Now Emet, you're frightening her," the man behind her said playfully. He said something else, but it was in his native tongue, so she couldn't understand him.
There was a round of raucous male laughter around her, and she shivered uncomfortably. If the other man was Emet, it meant the man behind her was Edard. She knew nothing of him but his love of violence.
The laughter died down, and lips that were surprisingly soft brushed her ear, his beard scratching her skin. "To answer your question, Princess, you are going to make your father and husband pay for their own destruction."
Belflaed swallowed. "You wish...to ransom me?"
"And with that money, we shall build the greatest Dane army ever to grace these shores," Edard murmured in a low voice. "So, you are very important to us, Lady. You will not be harmed, that I can assure you."
Belflaed took no comfort in his words as the surrounding men leered, some making obscene gestures with their tongues. She closed her eyes and prayed to God this ordeal would soon be over.
ooo
"She does not eat or drink. The girl will sicken."
Emet threw the bone he was gnawing on down to the table, his blue eyes hardening as he stared at the brown-haired man in front of them. "Then shove it down her throat."
Edard placed his mug down and stood up. "Easy, brother. I will speak with her."
Emet's lips stretched wide, flashing his teeth. "Ah, speak. I do hope you find her...accommodating." He let out a loud laugh and Edard laughed with him, clapping him on the shoulder.
He kept the smile on his face until he left the hall, and then it fell, his jaw tightening. He would not hump Belflaed; he would not touch her. She was...precious. A beauty, no doubt, but she seemed sweet too, a gentle soul.
She'd been with them now for four days, and they had yet to receive word from Wessex or Mercia. Neither brother was particularly concerned about that; they believed a priest, or perhaps a spy, would be sent to confirm Belflaed was alive before the Saxons acknowledged them.
Since her arrival at Baemfloot, the captured Saxon settlement, Edard had found himself visiting the princess's cell often. They'd put her by the stables in a locked room, the insides nothing but a simple cot and a bucket for her to relieve herself in. Less grand than she was used to, he expected, but she did not complain, nor seem to feel particularly sorry for herself.
At first sighting, Edard had known Belflaed was a princess. It was not the way the men and women in the camp flocked to her, nor the clothing she wore, but the softness in her face, the fullness of her lips, the healthy pink hue on her cheekbones that painted her otherwise flawless pale skin with colour.
He had seen many beautiful women in his life, humped many too, but Belflaed was a different kind of beauty. Raw and unblemished, her long tresses the colour of midnight mixed with mead, her warm brown eyes flecked with amber and so wide and innocent in her heart-shaped face.
Her sweet demeanour was not without its bite; she had a fire in her too, as he had witnessed twice now. The first time was when they'd brought her into the settlement. The men had made crude jokes and howled about the taste of what lay between her legs, mostly in their own tongue, but the way she'd trembled in front of him told him she had some idea of what they were saying.
Belflaed was petite, fitting against his body too easily, the soft swell of her bottom pressed between his thighs. She'd jerked her head back, almost striking his jaw as she held her chin high, undeterred by the way the men cajoled her and seemingly unfazed by Edard behind her. Her thick hair had tickled his neck, and he'd felt a pull in his groin at the smell of it, lavender and honey, soft tresses he longed to feel between his fingers. Her bravery had impressed him; he expected a crying, weak girl, not the woman between his legs who had demanded he tell her the purpose of her capture.
The second time Edard witnessed Belflaed's ferocity was the previous afternoon.
He'd come to visit her when he'd found the stables unmanned. He'd known instantly that something was amiss and burst himself into the room. Sigfreit had pinned Belflaed over the cot, but rather than rescue her, Edard found himself having to rescue his guard instead. He had barely gotten the knife off her in time, her tiny hands having snatched it from Sigfreit's belt before he knew what was happening. Edard found himself tempted to let her stab his man, and that left him feeling confused for most of the evening.
He'd known Sigfreit for a long time. His tongue was too loose and his hands grabby, but he was a good fighter. Forcing himself on a woman was not unlike him, but it had never bothered Edard before. He told himself it was because Sigfreit went against his orders, that his anger was over the disobedience. He repeated those words to everyone when he goaded Sigfreit into fighting him later that night, sinking his sword deep into the other man's belly as he stared down at him, watched him go to Helheim with pitiful cries. They believed him, thank Odin, because Edard wasn't sure he believed himself.
Edard nodded at the guards in front of Belflaed's cell, Sina and Halfdan, then opened the latch, stepping inside.
"Princess," he said gently, the door closing behind him. He approached her carefully. She was sitting on the cot, her dark hair swept to one side as she studied her hands.
"You must eat," Edard told her.
She didn't look up or acknowledge him, and he found himself worrying if she was okay or not. He lowered himself to his knees, reaching out to touch her hands. They were so small and incredibly soft against his large, rougher palms. Something tingled across his fingertips, but he ignored it, staring at her face expectantly.
Belflaed looked up at him, her brown and amber eyes cautious, but she made no move to remove his touch, nor did she appear concerned by it.
"Are you troubled by what happened yesterday? Sigfreit is dead; he is no longer a threat to you."
Belflaed looked surprised. "He is dead? Why?"
"For his disobedience," Edard said calmly.
Belflaed just stared at him. "To answer your question, no, what happened does not trouble me, though I am glad to hear he is no longer living. You should have just let me stab him."
"I do not want blood on your hands," Edard murmured, tilting his head at her. "It is okay to admit you are afraid for what he tried to do to you."
Belflaed laughed, a harsh sound that didn't seem right coming from her sweet mouth. "It is not the first time a man has forced himself on me, and it will not be the last. At least here I can fight back."
Edard felt something blaze in his belly at the thought of someone touching her like that. "Who? Who has touched you?" he growled, his hands leaving hers for fear he might grip them in his fury.
Belflaed turned her head slightly, her chin still raised as she averted her eyes. "My husband is not a gentle man."
Edard gritted his teeth. "He harms you?"
She nodded, her hands wringing together. "He has never once shown me a moment of passion, nor love."
"He takes you...without giving you pleasure?" Edard said, his jaw clenched tight.
"I do not know the meaning of the word," was all Belflaed murmured.
Edard did not know what to do or say, a violent urge rising in him to head into the courtyard and bait someone, just so he could fight and release the tension that roiled in his gut. The thought of her husband hurting her, taking her against her will, made him feel sick and furious.
"I will eat when I bathe," Belflaed said, stirring him out of his thoughts.
Edard tilted his head at her before his eyes flicked down her body. "I can take you to the river. Is that all you require?"
His eyes met hers, and Belflaed nodded. "I feel thick with grime and sweat from the ride."
"I will have a woman clean your garments," said Edard, cursing himself for not offering to do so sooner.
Belflaed's eyes widened. "How shall I…stay covered if my garments are to be washed?"
The panic on her face made Edard reach out and touch her hands again. "I will bring you something else to wear, Princess, until your things are dried by the fire. Do not fear. I will not leave you exposed."
Belflaed swallowed and nodded at him. He left her, picking up his axe and breaking up wood until he no longer felt like ripping out someone's throat.
A short time later, he came back to collect her, a dozen men with him as they escorted her to the river. A Saxon attack was unlikely, but Belflaed was too valuable to risk. The banks were muddy, the sky a light grey, pierced occasionally with blue where the sun broke up the clouds.
They stood on the bank, feet sinking into the ground as one of the women escorted Belflaed to the water, undoing the ties at the back of her gown.
Edard felt a tug in the pit of his stomach as her back was bared to him, smooth and pale. The men next to him made noises of approval and he stood up taller. "Turn your backs. She is a princess—we will give her privacy."
There were grumbles, but his glares turned them silent, and one by one, his men faced away from Belflaed. Edard intended to turn too, but as the garment slipped over her hips and he saw the swell of her behind, dimples sitting in the small of her petite back, he found he could not drag his eyes away.
The clothing was removed by the grey-haired woman, Torvee, and she glanced back at Edard with a raised eyebrow. He ignored her, crossing his arms. He would turn away in a moment.
Belflaed stepped into the water and Edard's eyes dropped to her shapely bottom, his teeth clenching as she bent forward, exposing her pink flesh. She turned slightly and the sight of her full breast and the dark pink of her hard peaks had his length hardening in his breeches. He was overcome with desire for her, his mouth going dry as she washed herself in the water.
Her small hands ran across her body, her breasts, even between her legs, and all the while he watched her, feeling dizzy as the blood rushed to his manhood.
ooo
Once she had bathed, Edard escorted Belflaed back to her cell where she wrung her wet hair in her hands, sitting down on the cot and wrapping the furs around her shoulders.
She stared up at Edard. He was standing near the doorway, his long brown hair tucked behind his ears as he watched her. As Belflaed stared into the deep green of his eyes, she felt a small tingle in the pit of her stomach. He had such a striking face; high, slightly carved-out cheekbones, pale skin marked with several white scars. One split his left eyebrow in half, breaking up the thick hair. He was ruggedly handsome, perhaps the most handsome man she'd ever seen. The most wild man she'd ever seen too, with his shoulder length hair and thick, bushy beard that completely surrounded his full, pale-pink lips.
He moved, taking the bowl from the table they'd placed in her room and setting it down on the bed next to her. It held a chunk of bread and a large hunk of cheese.
"Will you eat now, Princess?" he asked, his deep, rich voice causing a heat to pool in her cheeks.
Belflaed nodded. "Thank you," she said softly to Edard, wringing her hands in her lap. "For allowing me to bathe, and for...asking them to turn around; for respecting my privacy."
Edard stared at her, a new intensity in his green eyes. "I must admit, Princess, I did not turn away."
Belflaed felt her lips lift. She'd known that already; she had glanced back and found his green eyes fixed upon her behind as she stood naked in the shallow water. The fact he was looking at her hadn't bothered her. He wasn't like the others. He was kind to her, and gentle. She'd felt warm under his gaze, her breasts feeling heavy as she'd bent over to scoop the cool water in her hands. There had been a tingle between her legs as she'd turned to the side slightly, letting him see a glimpse of her bare breasts. She didn't know why she wanted him to look at her, but she did. Perhaps she was being foolish, and letting him see her body would just lead to him taking her brutally like her husband did, but somehow Belflaed didn't think that was possible. Edard had killed the man who'd tried to take her, and in all the time he'd spent visiting her cell, he had never once tried to touch her. He was nothing like she'd imagined as a Dane, or a man, and she wondered how he'd gotten such a reputation for brutality when he had been nothing but soft and gentle with her.
"I know," Belflaed said to him, staring straight into his eyes. The way he was looking at her made her shiver.
"You do not need to thank me," Edard said softly. "You are a princess, too good for their eyes and mine. I apologise for looking."
"I did not mind," Belflaed found herself saying, her heart jumping into her throat as the words left her mouth.
Edard's eyes widened a little, his lips curving up. "No?"
Belflaed swallowed. "I...trust that you won't hurt me. Perhaps that's foolish, but—"
"Your trust is well placed," Edard assured her softly. "I would never hurt you, nor let anyone else do so. I will protect you, I give you my word."
Belflaed swallowed heavily. "Thank you."
He studied her for a moment, then stood up to his full height, looking down at her. "Eat, Princess."
She nodded at him, and he gave her a nod in return, before walking out of the room.
ooo
The next few days passed with minimal excitement, and Edard found himself sitting with Belflaed often. She asked him for stories about his people, and he obliged her, telling her about his Gods, about Freya and Odin and Valhalla.
He was perched on the edge of her cot next to her, telling her the story of Ragnarok, when he noticed she was no longer listening, the brown of her eyes shifting and twisting like moving water.
"What troubles you, Princess?" Edard asked her curiously. "Or do my tales begin to bore you?"
Belflaed turned her head to him sharply and her cheeks flushed. "Of course they do not bore me; I am growing weary of these four walls, not you. May I bathe again tomorrow?"
"Yes," murmured Edard, his mind whirring as he considered how he might help her.
He left Belflaed and went about the rest of his day. Most of the men were spending their time drinking and playing games while they waited to hear something from the Saxons. Emet was among them, and Edard found himself grinning when he walked into the main hall and spied his brother passed out against the long table, a naked woman astride him, her bare breasts resting on his cheek as her head lolled backwards in sleep. He slapped her ass gently, waking her up.
She gasped and then smiled at him. Freyda was a beauty, a favourite of both him and Emet among the thralls, but Edard felt no stirrings of desire for her today. "Go," he said, jerking his head. She scampered out of the hall and Edard slapped his brother's cheek twice, much harder than he had the girl.
Emet jerked awake and scowled at Edard. "Eh, barmr."
Edard grinned, pouring a cup of mead from the table. "Good afternoon, brother, I see you had a pleasant morning."
Emet laughed as he took the mead from Edard. "Have you humped the Saxon girl, yet?"
"Soon," Edard lied. He'd need the excuse of lying with her to keep seeing her. "I don't wish to take her against her will, though. I thought tonight I could take her outside the settlement down by the water. Perhaps she will feel more...at ease there." His words were spoken casually, as though he cared little for Emet's response.
Emet raised the mead. "I hope she's as tight as she looks, brother."
Edard raised his own glass, winking. "So do I."
ooo
Edard's hand slipped into hers as they stepped out of the settlement, and Belflaed felt her heart race in her chest at the contact. His skin was rough, but his large palm was warm and she felt safe as she walked with him, the coarseness of his skin comforting somehow.
He laid out some furs under a large tree and encouraged her to sit down, pulling out a horn of mead and handing it to her with a soft smile. "It is strong, but it will warm your belly."
Belflaed accepted it gratefully and took a sip. Edard laughed softly as she made a face, and the sound was so gentle and light it made something jump in her chest. He took the horn from her, his warm fingers grazing hers, and she felt tingles race through her, something coiling in her lower stomach.
Edard gestured up to the sky. "It is a clear night, I thought you would enjoy some time outside. I know being kept in the stables is not pleasant, but it's safer for you there. I do not trust all the men."
Belflaed glanced up at the sky, so full of bright stars it looked almost a dark blue. The ground in front of them was flecked with white light and shadows, and the fur underneath her legs was warm.
She could smell Edard, every inhale making her lower stomach coil tighter. His scent was musky, masculine, with a touch of sweetness, perhaps from the mead he always drank.
"Will you continue your story from this morning?" Belflaed asked softly, shivering as the wind blew at them, the strands of her hair flickering against her neck.
Her breath caught as she felt Edard's hand rest on the small of her back, heat flooding her even through her clothes. "Are you too cold, Princess?" he asked, shrugging out of his leather and furs and placing them around her shoulders.
Belflaed smiled at him and shook her head. "Not now."
Even in the low light, the deep, vivid green of his eyes entranced her, and her breath quickened as he placed his hand on her back again, rubbing gently.
"At Ragnarok, when Jörmungandr will burst his bonds, and Fenris will break his fetters, and the frost giants will attack middle earth, the gods and the souls of heroes will defend us against doom…" Edard began, his deep voice rumbling.
ooo
Edard stepped into the cell with her and she slipped his leathers from her shoulders, handing them to him with a smile. "Thank you for letting me out. I longed for the sight of the sky even in the dark. There is a special beauty in the unveiled night and the glow of starlight."
"It is beautiful, yes, but nothing in comparison to you," Edard said softly to her, his large hand cupping her cheek.
Belflaed found herself leaning into his touch, her heart quickening in her chest as the warmth from his skin flooded her, sinking deep into her body and seeming to gather in the pit of her stomach.
"Belflaed…" Edard murmured, leaning in closer to her. Her mouth went dry, her skin suddenly on fire as his breath washed over her mouth, warm and sweet from the mead they'd just consumed.
His lips pressed to hers ever so gently, and Belflaed's heart stuttered, her hands suddenly gripping his arms as she tried to process what was happening. Her skin felt warm and prickly, her breath leaving her in pants as his lips moved against hers. She was still and unresponsive, not for any reason other than she was in shock. His beard was slightly rough against her face, the bristles causing a tingling sensation between her legs as they scratched at her.
He pulled back, his green eyes searching hers. "I apologise. I should not have done that."
Belflaed swallowed, her mouth opening to say she'd liked it, when he rose abruptly and left her, the thump of the wooden bar across the doors seeming to echo around her.
Her fingers rose to her lips, a shiverr racing down her spine. He had kissed her, and she had liked it. She wanted him to kiss her again.
ooo
Edard avoided Belflaed for as long as he could manage, his heart aching in his chest as one day stretched into two. He missed her sweet smile, the sound of her voice, the calm her presence brought him, but he feared to be around her.
His feelings for her were unreturned, he was certain, and he felt ashamed to have kissed her, forcing himself on her the way her husband did. She had trusted him; he had sworn to protect her, and that he was not to be feared, and then he had given into his desire and pressed his mouth to hers.
The feel of her soft lips against his had set his heart pounding in his chest, and he had been so overcome by the sensation, by the way he throbbed in his breeches, that he had not noticed she wasn't kissing him back for several moments. Once he realised, he'd quickly retreated, but the damage had been done.
Now, he was miserable. He picked up a piece of bread and tore it in half as he watched the surrounding chaos. The men were excited; they'd had a message today from Wessex. The Saxons wanted to meet to arrange for Belflaed's return. They were sending her husband and his men to the settlement to discuss the terms. Emet was delighted, the men overjoyed, and Edard had to fake his own enthusiasm, the thought of Belflaed's husband going anywhere near her filling him with intense fury.
He did not want her to leave. He did not want to be parted from her. He stood up from the table and met Emet's curious eyes. "I am in the mood for Saxon," he said by way of explanation, winking at his brother.
Emet roared with laughter, slamming his mug to the table. "Then by all means, brother, sate yourself while she's still among us."
Edard shared in the laughter, his stomach twisting as he left the hall. He needed to see her, apologise again for touching her, just be with her, before she was taken from him.
ooo
Belflaed looked up sharply as he entered the cell, and he gasped as she threw herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around him.
Edard froze for a moment before his arms wrapped around her petite body tightly, his face pressing into her hair.
"Where have you been?" Belflaed cried into his chest.
Edard leant back and cupped her cheek, shocked to find tears running down her cheeks. "I…"
"I missed you," Belflaed sniffled, her eyes wide and tear-filled as she stared at him. "I thought something might have happened...I…" She suddenly stepped back, wiping at her eyes. "Why did you not come?" she asked, staring at him, her eyes narrowing.
Edard swallowed. "I apologise, Princess, I...I feared I had upset you with my actions, and I did not want to add to your discomfort."
"Edard," Belflaed murmured.
He closed his eyes. "I am no better than your husband, I should not have forced myself on you like—"
He was cut off as small hands gripped his shoulders, and his eyes flung open just in time for Belflaed to drag him down to her, her mouth meeting his. Edard's lips parted against hers in shock as she pressed her soft curves against him, the heat from her body turning him inside out. She let out a small whimper against him, and Edard's arms went around her, picking her up by her petite waist. He walked with her to the cot, gently laying her down as he kissed her again, his length thickening as her small, wet tongue collided with his, her breathless little moans causing a tug in the pit of his stomach.
They kissed until they were both breathless, and then he pulled back, stroking her hair behind her ears. "I did not think you returned my feelings."
"I have never experienced a man so gentle and kind," Belflaed said, reaching up and stroking his face, her fingertips scorching. "How could I not return your feelings?"
He kissed her again, moving his mouth down her neck and making her laugh as his beard tickled her skin.
ooo
Belflaed practically flew off the cot when the door opened, and her heart felt like it was going to burst when Edard stepped into the room.
He winked at her and turned his head outside. "Do something else tonight, I'll be with her."
Edard pulled the slab of wood and shut the doors, wedging them shut from the inside, before he turned to face her.
Belflaed felt her body grow warm at his gaze and he crossed the room in two strides, his mouth meeting hers hungrily. She whimpered, her hands going around his neck, and he groaned into her mouth as he lay her down, strong hands slipping under her dress and sliding up the bare skin of her thighs.
There was something different about the way he was kissing her, a new intensity that hadn't been there the past several days. Belflaed felt her body burn under his touch, as it had every single time he had kissed her. She longed for him to enter her body, to lie with her. She had wanted it ever since they kissed the first time, but now she was desperate, especially with what was happening tomorrow. She wanted all of him, even if it was just once.
Edard's hands slid higher, and Belflaed's back arched as his fingers gently rubbed against her inner thighs. "May I touch you?" he asked hoarsely. Belflaed's eyes fluttered in delight and she nodded. His fingers traced higher, and her body jolted as his warm fingers found her core. She'd never been touched like this before; he was so gentle, his skin slightly rough.
Belflaed whimpered in pleasure as he stroked through her opening, her legs falling wider for him as his long fingers parted her, pushing into her slick heat easily. He growled, his face pressing into her neck for a moment before he leant up and stared down at her, his deep green eyes fixed on hers.
Belflaed's mouth was open, the pleasure zinging across her skin and deep in the pit of her stomach. It was a shock to her. "I…"
Edard smiled wickedly. "Does that feel good?"
Belflaed nodded, her eyes fluttering.
"For me too," he said in a rough voice. His fingers left her and she gasped as he pulled her to sit up, his hands untying her dress.
He groaned as her bare chest was revealed to him, and Belflaed whimpered as he bent his head, his tongue licking across her peaks, causing jolts of heat to flare in her belly.
"Oh," she whimpered, an ache forming between her legs that she'd never felt before. She felt hot and cold all at once, her breasts heavy, a slickness between her thighs.
He removed her dress fully, and Edard's mouth trailed down her stomach as he lay her back, his beard tickling her skin and causing her lower belly to knit itself tight.
Belflaed gasped as she felt his breath between her legs, his nose nudging the hair there. "What are you d-doing?"
"Do you trust me?" Edard asked in a low voice, her stomach clenching at the roughness of it.
"Yes," Belflaed said softly. She did; she trusted him more than she'd ever trusted anyone.
Her eyes widened as she felt his tongue licking her there. At first it tickled, but then his tongue dipped lower, rough and impossibly warm, and she whimpered, her thighs trembling. He kissed her, his tongue tracing through her core, and Belflaed arched off the bed, a cry leaving her lips.
His beard rubbed against her inner thighs as he licked and sucked, the wet noises causing something to clench inside her. Her lower stomach started to coil tighter and tighter, and Belflaed's head tossed from side to side as he lapped at her, groaning low in his throat.
She felt like she was going to burst all of a sudden, her legs shaking, her lower stomach pulsing and trembling. Something was building in her, her whole body aching and tensing as the pleasure going through her increased and increased.
He sucked at the nub above her entrance and the dam broke suddenly, an intense wave of pleasure flooding through Belflaed's body as she shook. He groaned, lapping at her until she stopped shaking and she stared down at him, her breast rising and falling rapidly.
"I did not know it could be like that," Belflaed said in awe.
"I know," Edard murmured, kissing her thigh, his beard scratching at her tender skin and sending tingles up and up, where they fluttered in her lower belly.
"Will you...are we going to…"
"Hump?" Edard's lips curved up, his green eyes glinting playfully. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes." Belflaed flushed. "I...would like that very much."
Edard stood up and slipped off his leather vest, pulling his shirt over his head and leaving him bare-chested. Belflaed studied his tattooed skin in the golden light, her heart racing. Bluish lines and patterns twisted across his chest, swirling down to the deep ridges in his abdomen where they disappeared. He was marred several times over, pink and white puckered lines splitting his otherwise smooth-looking skin. She reached out for him without conscious thought, and he smiled at her, his hands going to his breeches and untying them.
They fell to the floor, and Belflaed gasped as she stared at his manhood, thick and long and a lovely dark shade of pink. Something in her lower stomach clenched, an ache building there as she studied the evidence of his desire for her. She had never seen a man bared to her in such a way. Though her husband was often naked around her, whenever he lengthened and became rigid, she was twisted away from him and bent over until he was that way no more.
Edard lowered to his knees on the bed, watching her with hooded green eyes. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
Belflaed nodded, swallowing as her hands reached out to touch his stomach. She looked at him for approval and his lips curved up at her. "My body is yours to do with what you wish," he said in a low voice. "Touch freely, you can have from me whatever you desire, Princess."
Belflaed felt her chest heat, the warmth rising to her cheeks too. Carefully, she reached out further, letting her fingertips graze his abdomen. His skin was hot and hard, smooth under the pads of her fingers. Edard's body tensed and he let out a low, husky sound that caused a rush of heat between her legs, more fluid gathering on her already slick inner thighs. Her fingers traced down, lower and lower, her heart fluttering against her rib cage as she met the dark, coarse hair at the base of him.
"Do I please you?" he murmured in a low voice. She lifted her head up, meeting his dark green eyes, her cheeks burning hotter than the flickering flame of the candle across from them.
"Y-yes," she stuttered, "though I…"
Edard reached up and cupped her warm cheek, his rough palm only intensifying the heat there. "If you would like to stop, we can. I wish to give you nothing but pleasure."
Belflaed swallowed, pressing her face into his hand. "I certainly do not wish to stop, I only...wonder how my body will accept your….girth."
Edard's lips curved up and he let out a low laugh, stroking his thumb against her. "Worry not, Princess. I will fit." She gasped as she felt warm fingers brush the entrance to her body, dipping into the slickness there. Edard's eyes hooded over even more, burning into hers. "Your body is ready for me, Belflaed, all this"—his fingers slipped inside and she whimpered, a jolt of pleasure striking her abdomen—"will make it easy for me to fill you."
Her back arched, and he made a low growl, leaning into her and tracing his rough, wet tongue up her jaw. Belflaed's eyes rolled back, and she trailed her fingers lower, wrapping her hand around his hardness. Her fingers did not meet, and his skin was silky and incredibly warm, the weight of him heavy against her palm. Edard groaned, his hand leaving her cheek and tangling in her hair as he flickered his tongue over her parted lips. She opened her mouth, and he swept inside, something tangy on his tongue that she did not recognise. She held his manhood, unsure of what to do next, her mind occupied with the way he licked at her tongue, and the feel of his fingers as they pressed deep inside of her, twisting and shifting, pulling back and then diving back in. The tension coiled in her lower belly again, tighter and tighter, and Edard's lips left hers to place soft, feather-light kisses across her cheeks and forehead.
Her moans and whimpers grew, and he hummed. The second she felt his large thumb graze the sensitive nub above her entrance, everything snapped, her body shaking, clenching down on him as pleasure washed over her.
His hand left her legs, and she gasped as it wrapped around hers, his fingers warm and wet as he guided their joined hands up and down his solid length. Edard groaned. "May I enter you?"
"Please," Belflaed whimpered.
Edard gently guided her down on the fur, parting her thighs with his large hands as his warm mouth trailed down her neck, his tongue licking across her chest and then the hard peaks of her breasts. Warmth flooded between her legs and Belflaed felt a deep ache there, a longing for something that she'd never experienced before.
She gasped as she felt warm skin brush against her entrance, smooth and solid. Edard's elbows rested either side of her head and he kissed one cheek, then the other. "You are beautiful," he said in a low, rough voice. Belflaed reached up and placed her palm on his warm chest, staring into deep pools of dark green. His heartbeat thudded against her, just as fast as hers was beating in her chest; she smiled at him.
He smiled back and then shifted his hips. Belflaed gasped, the atmosphere between them shifting suddenly. Her body burst into flames, something in her stomach rising up and fluttering. Edard's lips parted, his eyes almost closing as he started to press against her slick entrance. Belflaed whimpered as she felt the blunt head of him part her. He was right; he pushed into her easily, her body readily accepting the intrusion of his manhood. As he slowly slid inside, her eyes rolled back in her head. He groaned low in his throat, his face dropping to press into her neck and his beard scratching her skin.
Belflaed couldn't breathe. Everything in her body was zinging around, a deep pleasure flooding her that she'd never experienced before. The sensation of him stretching her, filling her, was indescribable. She felt herself cling to his length as he pressed it deeper and deeper, and knowing that he was inside of her, that it was Edard who was taking her, was utterly euphoric.
She thought the pleasure had reached its pinnacle, but then he pulled his hips back and pressed deep again, and a cry tore its way from Belflaed's throat. There was a drag deep inside her, and every movement of his hips seemed to send a shock through her body, something under her rib cage flaring and shuddering in rapture.
"Oh," she gasped, gripping onto his arms.
Edard let out a deep growl, his chest vibrating where it brushed hers. "Does that feel good, Belfaed?"
Belflaed cried out, her back arching off the bed at his low voice. "Y-yes, so good."
Edard groaned, a deep, husky, masculine noise, his hips starting to rock into hers a little faster. Belflaed's fingers sunk into his skin, her head tossing to the side. She gasped as she felt his large hand gripping her breast firmly, his thumb flicking over the sensitive part of her.
Her legs lifted, opening wider, rising up to wrap around his hips, and Edard threw his head back and groaned. "Oh yes," he growled.
Belflaed found her hips rocking with his, and Edard's hand left her breast and slid down her stomach, his thumb finding that little nub again. Immediately, the pleasure flooding her increased, and Belflaed felt herself clench around him, a tiny spasm going through her.
That feeling was building again, but it was different this time, more all-consuming, her body trying to clench down but unable to with his thick length filling her, holding her open.
Belflaed's nails scratched down his spine and Edard grunted, filling her with slightly harder thrusts. It was all it took for her to fall off the edge, and she cried out his name, long and loud as she shattered in his arms, her body clinging to his.
He hissed and his mouth clashed to hers as she felt him swell inside her, pulsing as he pulled from her lips and groaned loudly in her neck.
They lay there, breathing heavily for a while, before Edard lifted himself up, his rugged face relaxed as he gave her a small smile. He placed a hand on her belly. "I should have retreated, I'm sorry."
Belflaed placed her hand over his much larger one, something in her stomach fluttering. "If I am with child from this, I will be pleased to leave here with a piece of you." Her throat closed up at the thought of the next day, when Athelstan would arrive to negotiate her ransom. She didn't want to leave Edard; the thought of never seeing him again caused a pain in her chest that stretched down to her toes.
Edard's eyes flickered, and he rubbed his rough palm gently across her stomach. "I have no intention of letting you leave, whether I have put a babe in your belly or not."
Belflaed sat up on her forearms. "But...your army, your brother…"
"Is nothing compared to you," Edard murmured. "I wish to leave with you, Belflaed, to wed you, should you be willing."
Belflaed's eyes watered, her breath catching. "I am willing. I love you."
Edard's green eyes shone. "And I you."
"How will we leave?" Belflaed asked, butterflies swarming in her stomach.
"Tomorrow evening; everyone will be distracted with the negotiations. We can ride north, then escape to Ireland."
"But your brother…"
"Will kill me if he catches us," Edard said softly. "I should kill him, but I...cannot. If he was to find us, or stop us from leaving, only then would I act."
Belflaed felt tears run down her face. "Are you sure you want this?"
"I am," Edard murmured, bending to kiss her tears. "Are you?"
"I am," Belflaed cried silently, pressing her face to his warm neck as his arms held her tightly.
ooo
Athelstan's hand was tightly wrapped around the hilt of his sword in its scabbard as he stood in front of the brothers, Emet and Edard. He did not know which was which; the one on the left was slightly taller and wider, with piercing blue eyes, his long hair braided down the back of his head, sides shaved to reveal the ink that covered his face and neck. To the right, vivid green eyes stared out of a more handsome face, a thick beard covering the man's mouth and upper lip, his dark-brown hair long and tied behind his head with a thick leather band. The man glared at Athelstan, his upper lip curling, and Athelstan shifted on the spot, a flicker of fear flaring in his gut.
They wouldn't hurt him, he knew that. Savage though they may be, the Danes loved gold more than anything, and that is what Athelstan was there to talk about. Truthfully, if it were down to him, he wouldn't give a penny for Belflaed. He enjoyed her, of course, but she was not worth this. Not worth funding the Danes, who would use their money to destroy the last of the Saxons. Unfortunately, the King of Wessex thought differently.
"I am here to negotiate Belflaed's ransom," Athelstan voiced.
"We know." The blue-eyed one gave him a wicked grin. "But we expected someone of...higher stature."
"She is my wife," Athelstan said angrily.
"We will not negotiate with you," the other man said. "We will talk with the priest."
Athelstan bristled. "He has no authority to discuss this with you."
"Whose hall do you stand in?" The tattooed man widened his arms, grinning. "You have no authority here. We will speak with the priest—you will wait outside with the pigs."
"Lord, they are just trying to bait you, do not rise to it," Brother Oswald murmured in Athelstan's ear.
"Fine," Athelstan said, seething, "but I wish to see my wife before anything else."
"No." Green eyes flashed. "You will not."
The other brother glanced over, almost in surprise, before turning back to Athelstan with a smirk. "You heard Edard; you will not see her. Trust me, she has been...well taken care of."
"If any of you have touched her!" Athelstan exploded.
Edard's lips curved up as his eyes narrowed. "What will you do? Fight us? I could carve your face up before you so much as scratched me."
"Priest, come, sit, drink some wine, and we will discuss how much money you will pay us," Emet announced, taking a seat at the wooden table.
Athelstan watched, his body tense with anger as Brother Oswald stepped forward and sat down.
"You may go outside now," Edard said mockingly.
Athelstan's fingers twitched on his sword. He wanted to drive it deep into the Dane's throat.
But he would never survive such a missive, so he stepped back and left the hall.
ooo
Belflaed was pacing in her room, her stomach churning and twisting. Athelstan was here, and she was going to leave with Edard at any moment. It was dark, the candles in the room flickering. She could hear the noise from the hall, the air full of raucous laughter and cheers.
A sudden sound at the door made her turn to face it, and she met Torsten's grey eyes, his blonde hair hanging in tiny braids by his ears.
"Come with me, Princess, Edard will meet you by the horses."
Belflaed had been told by Edard to trust Torsten and to follow his lead when he came for her. She stepped forward, and he wrapped her in a cloak, lifting the hood up to help hide her face. When they stepped out, he pulled her aside, and she gasped as she saw her guards laying on the floor glassy eyed, their skin gaping at their throats, still trickling with blood.
Torsten grabbed her arm gently and hurried her forwards. It was deserted everywhere, as Edard had planned, and she sighed happily as she saw Torvee sitting astride a speckled mare, three other horses next to her, one a pale brown with a white diamond between his eyes, and the other two black as midnight. Torsten picked her up, and she settled into the saddle, gripping the horse with her thighs as she searched for Edard.
Torsten threw himself up onto the horse next to her and the three were silent as they waited, the horses shifting impatiently. Belflaed's horse nickered, and she rubbed its warm neck, feeling the soft, thick hair against her palm.
Her heart jumped in her chest as Edard appeared out of the darkness and he smiled at her. She smiled back, so wide her cheeks hurt.
Edard stopped by his horse, and was just about to mount it when a low voice called out, "Not so fast, brother."
Belflaed's heart jumped in her chest as Emet walked out in front of them, her hands gripping the reins tightly in fear.
Edard turned to look up at her, and her heart broke at the resolve on his face, her mind replaying his words from the night before.
I should kill him, but I...cannot. If he was to find us or stop us from leaving, only then would I act.
"How could you?" Emet asked angrily, unsheathing his sword, his blue eyes hard as he surveyed them both. "This was our chance, brother, our chance to take this land, to be heroes. You have betrayed me, and for what? A Saxon whore? Is her body that good that you would stab your own brother in the back?"
"Emet, let me go," Edard said softly. "Please brother, I love her. Let me go."
"I cannot," Emet growled. "I will not let you ruin this for us."
"Emet, please. I do not wish to harm you," Edard begged.
Emet's jaw tightened and he swung his sword in a loop, the metal slicing through the air with a sharp whoosh. "If it is me against you, brother, are you sure you could win?"
Edard drew his own sword, and Belflaed's tears overflowed down her cheeks. He turned to look at her then, his green eyes meeting hers, full of sadness and pain.
"Go, Belflaed, go to Ireland. If I survive, I will find you; Torsten will protect you. Go!"
Emet started calling out loudly, and the ground thundered with footsteps as the doors to the hall burst open.
"No!" Belflaed cried. "Edard, come with me, please."
"I love you," Edard said quietly, his voice husky. "If I die, I will meet you again." His eyes left hers, flicking to the left. "Torsten, now."
Belflaed's reins were grabbed by the man next to her and her horse started galloping away. She turned in the saddle, her heart jumping in her chest as she watched Edard approach his brother, his sword drawn, his mouth a hard line.
The figures got smaller and smaller, blurring as their swords met.
Please, God, let him survive, Belflaed prayed. Please.
A/N Thank you for reading Princess for Ransom! I know it ends on a cliff-hanger and that might not be everyone's cup of tea – but I really wanted to leave it open. You can decide what you think will happen next, will Edard find his Belflaed? Or will he be bested by Emet?
I may continue this, depending on what you guys think – but it is definitely intended as a oneshot and I have no plans to write more at this time.
Please leave me a review if you did enjoy it and let me know what you think!
Ella xx