Chapter 21: Mine

Recommended for mature audiences only. Some content is not suitable for young readers.

(Updated for errors & minor content - 01-Jul-2019)

Reviews are absolutely welcome!

"Open the damned gate!" Bane bellowed at the guard as he banged on the heavy iron portcullis of Stonehill Castle. The blank-faced guards just stood on the other side, ignoring his temper.

They had reached Stonehill after a week of travelling and had been refused entry at the gate, much to their exasperation. Their journey had been long and tedious, and even though he wouldn't admit it, Eric was still in bad shape. As much as he respected William's decision to put the castle on lock-down because of Argus, Bane was quickly losing patience.

"How long is this going to take?" Beith asked.

One of the several guards spoke up. "Someone is trying to find Lord William. He'll get here when he gets here."

Bane scowled at the guard. "Ye've said that twice already!" He banged the iron gate again, but the guards didn't flinch.

Eric put his back to the gate and slid down to the floor. He looked at Argus, who had been gagged and chained for the entire journey. A few men from Talin had accompanied them to help guard the man, and it had eased the burden of watching him. Even so, Eric had barely slept since they left Talin, and watched Argus constantly despite all the help. He couldn't wait to get a full night sleep once Argus was behind bars, and then an even better sleep when he lost his head.

The four dwarves that had stayed for the battle slumped to the floor beside Eric and sighed in unison. Their pride had been wounded after they had gotten everyone lost in the mines, and they hadn't been their usual lively selves since. A few days rest would do them good as well.

"What is the little bastard doing?" Complained Coll. "Why is he taking so long?"

"He's probably having a nice warm bath and making his servants brush his pretty curls," laughed Nion.

"That's enough, you lot!" growled Beith.

Coll, Nion and Duir tried to suppress their laughter but to no avail. Eric just rolled his eyes.

Eric shifted uncomfortably and winced as his wound pulled and stretched with his movements. He'd tried to keep it as clean as he could over the past week, but there was only so much he could do without the correct supplies. He'd been in a rush to get here, to get to Snow. The battle had been two weeks ago now, and he was desperate to see her, to hold her once more. His wound could wait a few more hours.

"Bane!"

"About bloody time, ye rascal!" Bane exclaimed.

"Eric!" William was running over to the gate, waving an arm in greeting. "Let them in," he called to the guards.

Coll and Nion helped Eric to his feet as the gate started to rise.

"We were starting to wonder if you'd ever make it," William said when he reached them, shaking Bane's extended hand and patting Eric on the back. "Snow's been a right mess."

Eric's heart melted at the mention of her name. It wounded him to hear she was so upset.

William peered behind Eric and his eyes widened when he saw Argus. "Is that…" he paused.

Eric nodded. "Aye. Throw him in a cell, if ye wouldnae mind. "

William nodded and called over two guards. "Take this man to the dungeon. Have two men watch over his cell at all times," he said to the first. The guard did as he was told. Eric watched as the man dragged Argus through the outer yard. William turned to the second guard. "Find Mrs Browning and have her prepare rooms and baths for our new arrivals." The guard nodded and disappeared as well.

"Eric needs to see a physician," Bane said as they walked towards the castle. The four dwarves and villagers branched of to find their companions already at the castle.

"No," Eric growled. "I'm fine."

"He's no' fine," Bane said quietly to William. "He's been a pain in my arse this entire way here. I thought about leavin' him behind once or twice," he joked.

William nodded in understanding. "I'll have a physician sent to… Snow's quarters, I presume?"

Eric just sighed gruffly. He just wanted to see Snow. "Will ye both stop fussin'? I'm no' in the mood."

"She doesn't know you're here yet," William said, reading his mind.

"Take me to her."

It was though Snow had been in a daze the past two weeks. The days had started to blur together as she sat by the window day after day, minute after minute. She hadn't been outside at all, not since the day by the pond with William the week before. She'd stopped caring about getting dressed, about talking to people, even her eating had gotten worse. Her dinner still sat untouched on the table. She didn't care anymore. From where she sat by the window, she could see the stars start to appear in the sky as the sun disappeared over the horizon. Another day gone. Another day without Eric.

She played with a loose thread on her trousers – her clothing of choice lately. Paired with a simple cotton shirt, she much preferred the comfort these simple clothes offered her, over the tight and uncomfortable gowns the servants had found for her when she'd arrived at Stonehill.

She didn't look up when she heard her door open.

"Your Majesty?"

Snow looked over her shoulder. She had been expecting Greta, but instead of the young girl, Muir was standing in her doorway, smiling gently. "Muir?" Snow said, somewhat surprised. He was alone, and she wondered how he had made it to her rooms unassisted.

"I was just on my way to the parlour for some tea, and I thought Your Majesty would like to join me?"

Snow wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't had any guests lately, but she couldn't find it in her to refuse the blind old dwarf. She got up, and walked over to him, taking his hand. "Of course." It felt odd, using her voice. She had barely said a word to anyone all week.

"Lovely," Muir smiled.

The pair set off down the castle corridor. Snow knew the parlour Muir was talking about – it was only a short distance from her quarters. She'd had supper in there once before with William, but she'd been declining his invitations all week.

"Here we are," Snow said as they reached the small sitting room. She pushed open the door, but not much prepared her for what she saw when she opened the door. She gasped and covered her gaping mouth with her hand. "I'm so sorry!" Snow exclaimed as Greta and William jumped away from each other. Greta turned bright pink and covered her face with embarrassment.

"Snow," William coughed, clearing his throat. "I didn't expect to see you up and about."

Snow tried to think of something to say. "I, ah. Muir invited me for tea."

"I was just…" Greta blushed and tried not to make eye contact with Snow. "Excuse me, Milady." She curtsied quickly to Snow and ran out of the room, still red-faced.

Muir had already found his way over to a chair and made himself comfortable, obviously waiting for his tea.

Snow turned to William. "What was that about?" she prodded. She was happy and excited for her two friends, she realised, and her numbness was slowly trickling away. It felt good to feel something again.

William loosened the neck on his shirt. "Nothing," he mumbled.

Before Snow could pester him anymore, a guard appeared in the doorway. "Sir," he puffed. He looked relieved, as if he'd just searched the entire castle for William and was nearly out of places to look. "Your presence is required immediately."

"Right," William said, almost glad for the intrusion. "I'm coming. Please excuse me, Your Majesty." He ran out the room before Snow could even respond.

Snow's mind was reeling. She was trying to figure out what she had just witnessed between William and Greta. It hadn't been a kiss, she didn't think, but given a few more seconds, it most definitely would have been. She had expected something like this would happen between them eventually, but it was still a shock. She actually felt a little guilty for interrupting them.

Snow sat down in the chair opposite Muir. He had his eyes closed, so she didn't bother disturbing him. He obviously hadn't seen what had happened, but Snow had the sense that he knew anyway, and wasn't fazed.

Greta returned a few moments later, carrying a tray of tea. "I met the servant in the hall, so I thought I'd bring it myself," she said quietly, still flustered. She still couldn't quite meet Snow's eye.

"Thank you," Snow said politely as Greta placed the tray on the small table in front of them. There was also a small platter of fruit, and Snow's stomach grumbled loudly. Greta nodded and went to leave, but Snow stopped her. "Please sit with us, Greta." Snow smiled and motioned to the chair beside her. She felt terrible for embarrassing the girl and wanted to make it up to her.

"Yes, dear," Muir piped up. "Sit, sit."

Greta sat beside Snow, and the Queen poured a cup of tea for all three of them.

As much as Snow was burning to find out what had happened between Greta and William, she decided it wasn't really any of her business. Instead, they spoke about other things of no particular importance and Snow found herself smiling for the first time in a long while. She was almost content, and Muir's jokes helped her put Eric out of her mind.

That was, until she glanced up and saw him standing in the doorway.

Eric followed William briskly through the castle, Bane not far behind them. His wound was aching severely, but he kept up, not wanting to waste another second. His palms were sweaty and his heart was pounding in his chest, but it wasn't because he was in pain. He hadn't been this anxious since his wedding day with Sara. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

Soon they came to a stop outside a large door, and William opened it, letting Eric enter first.

Snow was sitting by the fireplace drinking tea. Muir and Greta sat around her, and they were laughing at something the old dwarf had said. Despite her soft smile, her face looked sombre and tired. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her posture seemed defeated. Despite all that, Eric lost his breath when he saw her. She was still the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on.

Snow looked up and he caught her eye. She froze and he couldn't help but smile at her bewildered expression. She stood up quickly, dropping her cup and saucer to the floor. "Eric," she whispered over the sound of shattering porcelain.

It was as if time had stood still. All he could do was stare at her for a few moments, not believing he was finally here. Somehow, he felt his legs moving, and he strode across the room to her. Snow jumped over the broken teacup and fell into his arms. Her eyes welled with tears.

"You're here," she cried into his neck. "You're alive."

Eric just hugged her tightly. Her sweet scent filled him as he breathed her in, never wanting to forget this moment, to forget what she felt like in his arms. He didn't want to let get go, but he'd had a plan for when he saw her, he'd gone over it again and again the entire way to Stonehill. Kissing her forehead once, Eric dropped to his knee and took her hands.

Snow looked down at him, puzzled.

"Snow," he said, his voice gruff, but somewhat calm. " I'm just a common man, in love with a woman who happens to be a Queen. I dinnae have a fancy title, I dinnae have a castle, or land, or even a ring to give ye. I cannae even offer ye my heart, because it belongs to ye already. All I have to offer ye is myself, and I hope that's enough."

Snow stared at him, speechless, tears burning her eyes. The entire room was quite; everyone was too afraid to even breathe.

Eric wasn't finished, and he swallowed nervously. "I want to spend every breath I have with ye, by yer side, holdin' yer hand, not as a friend, or yer hunter, or a king. I want to be yer husband, plain and simple, because I love ye." He squeezed her hands tighter. "Will ye be my wife?"

A sob escaped Snow, and she sunk to her knees, taking Eric's face in her hands. "Nothing would make me happier," she cried. "I love you."

Eric kissed her then, fiercely, embracing her in his arms. Clapping erupted around the room, and they remembered they weren't alone. They broke apart, breathless and laughing.

Snow stood and Greta hugged her, congratulating the queen.

"About bloody time," Bane bellowed, coming over to squeeze Eric's shoulder. Bane offered Eric a hand, and the hunter took it, groaning involuntarily as Bane pulled him to his feet.

Snow heard him and her eyes filled with worry. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"No-"

"Aye," Bane said over him. "He needs to see a physician."

"I'm alright," Eric insisted, draping his arms over Snow's shoulders when she came to him.

"You're not alright," Snow exclaimed as he leaned on her and wobbled. "You can barely stand! My quarters are nearby. Quickly."

Snow and Bane helped Eric to her room, each of them taking an arm. While William sent for the physician, Greta showed Muir back to his own room.

Eric groaned as he laid on the large bed and cursed loudly.

"What happened?" Snow asked, more to Bane than Eric.

"Argus's men stabbed him," the Captain replied. "The village physician said he needed more time to heal, but he didn't want to wait any longer. We were walking for a week trying to get here, and it didn't do him any good."

"Ye're worryin' for nothin'," Eric said through clenched teeth.

"Let me see," Snow said, reaching for his shirt and pulling it up. "You're bleeding!" she exclaimed, her voice full of grief.

Eric inspected his bandage, and indeed, there was blood seeping through the white cotton.

William arrived then, a woman following close behind him. She was carrying a black leather case. "This is Catriona," William introduced the woman. She was young, but still several years older than Snow, with beautiful blonde braided hair and green eyes. "She's a healer from the north."

"Yer Majesty," the woman curtsied to Snow. She had the same accent as Eric and Bane, Snow noticed, and remembered Eric saying they were both born in the north. "Gentlemen," Catriona greeted the men with a nod of her head.

"Highborough?" Bane asked, recognising her accent as well.

"Rivermaw," Catriona answered, smiling. "But close enough. Only a couple villages over." The woman put her case on the bed and opened it, revealing dozens of small jars and several shining silver implements. She studied Eric, cleaned her hands with a strong-smelling liquid, then pulled a small blade from her case of apparatuses. "I'll need to see the wound if ye want me to treat it."

Eric's mouth hardened, but he nodded. Catriona took her blade and with gentle hands, sliced the bandage open, revealing a swollen and painful-looking wound in Eric's right side. Snow covered her mouth with her hands. "Eric!" she gasped.

Catriona's face remained calm and focused as she inspected the wound. "Ye've torn some stitches," she said matter-of-factly, "and there is a slight infection startin'. I can help ye, but ye have to help yer'self as well. Ye need to rest, for a good few weeks at least."

"How bad is it?" Bane asked this time.

Catriona frowned at the wound, sticking her nose a mere few inches away from it. "I'd say the physician who treated ye first saved yer life. With wounds this deep, it's the bleedin' on the inside ye need to worry about." She pressed on the surrounding skin and Eric groaned, cursing again. "It doesnae look to be bleedin' under the skin, just the top where ye've pulled the stitches. I'll have to clean it and re-stitch it, but it's manageable. Ye're gonna have a mighty scar," Catriona half smirked.

"Aye," Eric huffed. "It'll feel right at home with the others."

Snow sat on the bed while Catriona worked on Eric. Her stomach lurched when the woman cut away the broken stitches, blood oozing slowly down Eric's abdomen. Then the cleaning came, and Catriona took the vile of strong-smelling liquid she used to clean her hands, and poured it over the wound, making sure to get into every fold of broken and sliced skin. Eric exhaled through his clenched teeth and grimaced at the sting.

The re-stitching didn't seem to bother Snow as much, and she watched with interest as Catriona closed the wound with her slender and steady hands. Eric, on the other hand, swore enthusiastically. Catriona didn't apologise or halt her work, she just continued through Eric's swearing with a calm and focused expression. Bane observed from nearby, and Snow could see him trying to hide his smirk. William was sitting in the corner, pale-faced.

When Catriona declared that she was finished, she instructed Eric to keep the wound dry and rest as much as possible. She bid everyone a good night, and Bane offered to walk her back to her rooms, William in tow.

By the time they were finally alone, Snow wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. The night had been a whirlwind, and she was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Eric was actually with her.

"Are ye alright?" Eric asked, taking her hand.

"I'm just so happy you're here," she said, putting her head on his shoulder. "The last two weeks have been horrible. I've been horrible to everyone."

"Aye," Eric agreed. "I was the same."

Snow rolled onto her back, looking up at the canopy of her bed. "I suppose we have a lot to talk about."

"Tomorrow," he replied, taking in every inch of her. His eyes stopped on her stomach, which was protruding ever so slightly under her shirt. His heart swelled, and he covered it with his hand. Snow put her hand over his and smiled. He had to tell her about Argus, but he didn't want to taint the night with the mention of his name. "Just let me hold ye for now. We'll talk about it all tomorrow."

It was a rare treat for Snow waking the next morning to find Eric still in bed with her. He was usually up at dawn, but today he was still sleeping soundly when Snow open her eyes to the sun seeping through her window. She smiled. She'd spent two weeks at that window, thinking she'd never see him again. What a change a day had made. He was here with her, and they were to be married!

Snow looked at Eric, his face calm and peaceful as he slept. His wound hadn't bled through the night, she noticed, so Catriona had done a wonderful job at fixing it for him. She touched his forehead – no fever – also good. The sheer thought of the severity of the stab wound made her heart ache. She could have lost him in that battle. Argus actually could have killed him. She hated that man, she realised, and she was glad she'd never have to see him again. All the people he'd hurt or killed trying to get to her – her subjects at the palace, Duke Hammond, her guards and scouts and Talin – he deserved what happened to him at Talin. What it was, she didn't know yet, but she suspected she'd find out today.

A small knock on the door had Snow sitting up, and Greta entered shortly after, carrying a breakfast tray. Another servant followed, carrying an identical tray, for Eric, Snow presumed.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," Greta said softly, noticing the still sleeping Eric. Both she and the second servant put the food on the table.

Snow climbed out of bed and pulled on her robe. "Morning," she whispered back, and inspected the food. She picked up a sausage and took a bite. Pork and rosemary.

"How is he?" Greta asked, nodding towards the bed.

Snow shrugged and swallowed. "Tired, it seems. He never sleeps this late."

The blankets rustled then, ironically, and Eric stirred. Greta curtsied then and left, leaving Snow and Eric alone.

Eric groaned as he sat up, still looking half asleep. "Be careful," Snow said sharply, "You'll tear your stiches again!"

Eric grimaced, "Good mornin' to ye too."

Snow pouted, going to his side. "I'm sorry. But Catriona said you have to take it easy."

"I'll be fine," he said, swinging his legs off the bed and standing. He buckled over slightly in pain and Snow grabbed his arm.

"Eric! You're not fine, you need to rest!"

He sighed gruffly, "I'm no' goin' to lie in bed all day."

Snow put her hands on her hips. "You're not leaving this room until Catriona says you're fit enough to walk around."

Eric laughed then, softly, and smiled at her. "Ye're gorgeous when ye're mad, ye know it?"

Snow scoffed, "Don't deflect."

Another knock on the door disrupted them, and Snow called the visitors inside. Bane entered, looking slightly more refreshed than the day before. He'd had a bath, and had found some clean clothes at least. "Yer Majesty," he greeted Snow. "Ah," he turned to Eric, "So ye made it through the night at least?"

Eric rolled his eyes and walked – stiffly – to the table. "What do ye want, ye bastard?" He sat down slowly, grimacing. Snow joined him.

"We have some things to discuss," the Captain said and his eyebrows rose, "about certain people."

Eric was silent and looked between Snow and Bane.

"I'd like to know what happened," Snow spoke. "Shall we call a meeting?"

"Aye, if ye want," Eric replied this time. "May as well get it over with."

An hour later a small crowd had gathered in the Duke's private cabinet – William's cabinet now. It was a small room, but large enough for a long table, enough to comfortably seat twelve people. It was a private room, one which servants were not allowed to enter, and one that men used to hold important, sensitive discussions. Snow sat at the head of the table now, with Eric on her right, much to her dismay. She'd wanted to host the meeting in her own room so Eric didn't have to move, but he brushed off her suggestion, complaining that she was fussing too much.

William sat on her other side with Bane, and the dwarves and villagers from Talin who had accompanied them to Stonehill made an appearance also.

Bane cleared his throat when everyone was ready, drawing all eyes to him. "So, as ye all know," he started. "The fight at Talin was successful. A lot of men were lost, and even more injured, but the villagers fought bravely."

"What of Argus?" Snow asked. She saw Eric go still beside her.

"You haven't told her?" William asked, looking between Eric and Bane.

"Tell me what?" Snow frowned.

Eric swallowed, clearing his throat. He looked reluctant to speak but managed to get his words out. "Argus is here," he paused, taking in Snow's shocked face. "We brought him with us."

Snow wasn't sure how she felt about the news. She had been sure Eric would have killed him given the chance. "Why? Why did you bring him here?"

"It was my decision," Bane answered for him. "The battle was over, and Argus was the sole survivor. I thought it would be best to question him, to see if he has more rebels or followers."

"And then?" Snow swallowed.

"Ye do as ye wish, Yer Majesty. He should be executed by yer order, no' mine."

Snow almost choked. "Executed?"

"He's a criminal, Snow," Eric jumped in. "He has to be punished, and the punishment for his crimes is death."

Snow's heart started to beat rapidly. "How?"

"Hanging, beheading, disembowelment, flogging, quartered or a bit of everything," chimed the dwarves, one by one. "It's up to you, Your Majesty."

Snow's stomach flipped and she felt bile rise in her throat. How was she supposed to order that upon someone? "You expect me to do that?" she asked, looking at Eric.

"Not you, Your Majesty," William intervened. "The executioner."

"No," she said. "That won't be happening. No executions. Not now, not ever."

Eric spoke again, "Ye'd have me kill him in a battle, but ye willnae even consider execution? What is the difference?"

Snow knew it sounded silly. She knew it was hypocritical, but the thought of sending a man to his death like that… "I can't."

"Snow," Eric started but Snow stopped him by raising her hand.

"I don't care who he is or what he's done, nobody will be executed while I'm the Queen. Do you understand?" Snow said to him, her voice clipped and forceful. Talking to him like that, like he was beneath her – she'd never done it before, and she regretted it immediately. She wouldn't even speak to her servants in that tone, and it made her feel sick.

Eric's jaw tightened and everyone in the room went silent. Eyes darted between the Queen and the hunter as everyone held their breath.

Eric stood up quickly, and his wooden chair scraped loudly across the stone floor. "Get out," he ordered, making several people flinch, even Bane. Even though he had no authority to command them, they began filing out of the room, eager to remove themselves from situation.

"I can't do it, Eric," Snow said when they were alone. "You brought him to me. If you wanted him dead, you should have done it yourself when you had the chance."

"I didnae think ye'd just let him go!" he said, his temper quickly rising. "How can ye be so foolish? This man has murdered countless people tryin' to get to ye, and ye'd just let him go free?"

"I'm not going to release him!" Snow retaliated.

"Ye may as well," Eric growled. "So long as he's alive, yer life is in danger. Why are ye makin' an issue out of this?" He kicked his wooden chair away from him, sending it flying across the room. It crashed into the wall with a loud thud.

"If you really thought I was capable of executing a man, then you clearly don't know me at all!" She stood, pointing a finger at him.

Eric growled, frustration pouring out of him. "Ye're bein' unreasonable, Snow. Stop listenin' to yer conscience for one bloody minute and use yer head for once, woman!"

Snow's mouth shut tightly. His words hurt her. "I'm not stupid," she said softly. It was true, her heart often overpowered her head, but his comment made her feel so small and foolish.

Eric's face softened, the anger in his eyes vanished and sorrow took its place. "Aye, Snow, ye're no' stupid. I'm sorry, I dinnae mean it like that."

He reached for her, trying to apologise, but Snow stepped away from him. "Don't touch me, Huntsman."

Her words stung him to his core, and his heart sunk. The one woman he loved more than his own life, and she was refusing his touch. She was pushing him away, and it frightened him to his very soul. He reacted to that fear the only way he knew how to, with anger. "Dinnae touch you?" he growled. "Aye, I willnae touch ye! But dinnae come beggin' for my touch the next time ye want man between yer legs. I'm sure ye'll find an eager replacement." Even he was shocked by his words. They felt so wrong, so vile and hurtful.

Snow slapped him across the face before she even knew what she'd done. She stared at him wide-eyed and shocked. Eric made no movement, he just stared at her, stone-faced. Somehow his non-reaction made her angrier, so she pushed at him this time. "How dare you!" she yelled at him. He was the love of her life, the father of her unborn child, how could he think he was so replaceable? She pounded on his chest, hitting and slapping, but he took it all. She shoved him again, trying to get a reaction, and his back hit the stone wall. "How dare you!" she yelled again, but tears prickled her eyes. He really wasn't touching her, and it made her feel sick for rejecting him so harshly. She stopped hitting him and sobbed, her hands fisting in his shirt. She knew his words meant nothing, that he'd said them only in anger to spite her. Him being too afraid to touch her hurt even more. "I didn't mean it," she whispered, tears wetting her cheeks. "Please don't pull away from me."

Eric exhaled. They'd thrown stupid and hurtful words at each other, him more so than her, and he hated being the reason for her tears. Don't touch me, Huntsman. Four little words that had cut him so deeply that he'd thrown horrendous words at her that had no meaning. Her tears broke his heart, and he took her hands. It was the only thing he could think of to stop her from hurting. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with grief.

Eric's wound was roaring, but he didn't dare make it known as he leant down and kissed her. Snow felt herself melt into him and began kissing him back, mimicking his enthusiasm. His hand tangled in her hair and pulled her harder against his relentless mouth. Snow's hands did the same, gripping handfuls of his hair and she felt a low growl erupt in his chest.

Snow broke away to catch her breath. She locked eyes with him for a mere second and they were dark with want. She knew her own eyes mirrored his.

She gasped when Eric span her around. Her hands gripped the wall for balance as he tore her shirt over her head then stripped the rest of her clothes from her body. He leaned against her, pushing her against the cold stone wall. The feeling took her breath away, but she was soon distracted by the Eric's mouth; kissing, biting and sucking along her shoulder and neck. He kicked her legs apart and touched her, teasing her with his fingers. She moaned and pressed her bottom into him and she felt his chest vibrate with another deep growl.

Eric turned her back around and she tugged desperately at his shirt and pulled it roughly over his head. She moaned again when his hot flesh pressed against her own, which was cold and numb from the icy stone. His mouth found her breasts, and she was grateful, for his hot mouth warmed them and their feeling soon returned. He wasn't as gentle with her as he usually was, and she winced as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive breasts. He bit down and she whimpered, but the pain was euphoric. "Eric," she begged. "Please."

Eric abandoned her breasts and hurriedly removed his belt. He couldn't lift her with his wound, so he lifted just her leg instead, hooking it around his waist. He pushed into her with a long, hard thrust and she cried out at the rough, but welcome intrusion. Each thrust was as hard as the last and her breath caught in her throat.

Two weeks. She had gone without his touch for only two weeks, yet it had felt like a lifetime. She entwined her fingers in his hair and she felt his breath hot and heavy against her neck. Two weeks without the feel of his clammy skin on hers, without the feel of him inside her, his rough and calloused hands touching her body in a way that made her believe she was moulded specifically for him.

Each relentless thrust, each eager kiss was more like an exclamation, Snow realised. He was claiming her with each hard stroke. She was his and he was hers, and no argument or threat would ever change that.

"Ye're mine," his words echoed her thoughts.

Snow couldn't find her voice. She couldn't event think. All she could do was nod in reply.

Her small bump pressed against his stomach as their hips came together, over and over again. There was nothing between them but their child, and something about it was so raw and primal. His attack on her body only grew more intense. They locked eyes for a moment and Snow saw something in them. Was it pride? Worry? Love? She didn't know. He kissed her deeply, and Snow lost herself in him. She exclaimed, calling his name over and over until she slumped in his arms, aftershock coursing through her veins. She ran her nails down his back as he thrust again and again until she felt him still and groan into her neck at his own release.

They stayed like that for a while, still joined and breathing heavily against each other.

"Are you hurt?" Eric asked, his voice raspy.

"No," Snow replied softly and it was mostly true. She was sore, but she liked it - it reminded her of all the places he'd been. Her breasts were aching from his rough assault, her arms and legs shivered as she clung to him and her mouth felt bruised and swollen. She'd never felt better.

Snow raised her hand to his cheek and kissed him gently. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have hit you like that."

"Aye, I deserved it. I said awful things to ye, things I didnae mean. Yer gentle heart is what makes me love ye so much." He stroked her hair as he held her to his chest. "I just want to keep ye safe, but ye dinnae like makin' it easy for me."

"I just can't do it, Eric. I can't send a man to his death like that, no matter how justified it is." Snow knew it didn't make sense. She'd sent people into battle knowing full well the consequences, and she'd even killed people with her bare hands. Why was this any different?

"We dinnae need to make a decision now. He's no' goin' anywhere for the time bein'." Eric handed Snow her clothes.

She pulled on her shirt and stared at Eric as he got dressed. "Are you in pain?" she asked, wondering how he'd managed to do what he'd just done to her without ripping open all of his stitches.

"Nothin' I cannae handle," he smirked. "I've had worse, if ye'd believe it."

Snow closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about it.

...