Chapter 3

It was some time before Floki realized that the conversation had continued without his input. He worried for a second that she may think him odd for not responding to her greeting, but as he began coming out of his reverie he noticed that she was talking animatedly with Lagertha. Her forest green irises were alight, reflecting the fire between them. She looked so very excited, completely alive. Realizing that he had not stopped looking at her since she arrived, he felt himself flush slightly. Self-consciously, he glanced to Ragnar, and paled when he saw that his old friend was already staring at him with a questioning look on his face.

Floki's gaze hardened some, an unspoken warning to Ragnar to keep his mouth shut. Ragnar responded with a sly grin before leaning toward the two women.

"Torunn, listening to you talk has given me a wonderful idea." He glanced at Floki from the corner of his eye. "You should do your work on the beach, near the water. For all the Gods to see."

Torunn tilted her head as she contemplated his words, a mannerism that Floki was already fond of. Her dark waves fell over her shoulder and he imagined touching his fingertips to the strands, weaving his fingers throughout the locks.

Lagertha seemed to agree with Ragnar, as she smiled.

"I think that's a wonderful idea. The sails will need to be strong enough to withstand the sea. They should be forged in its presence. The weather is mild enough this time of year. You can listen to the voices of the waves and the wind as you weave, and they will guide you."

Torunn's smile took the breath from his lungs. She glanced at him, smiled at him, so quickly he wouldn't have noticed had he not already been looking. Ragnar clapped his hands loudly, drawing attention from all.

"Then it is decided! Tomorrow we shall move the loom to the beach, far down where it is quiet and away from prying eyes." He looked directly at Floki, and although his smile looked genuine, his eyes were ablaze with mischief. "You can work near Floki's home. People rarely wander that way, and he will be nearby if you should need anything."

Floki's eyes widened in fear and excitement. He looked back at Torunn, startled to find her looking at him as well. She looked awe-struck, perhaps overwhelmed by the tasks and opportunities at hand. As the moments dragged on, he realized she was waiting for him to speak.

He cleared his throat, his deep gray eyes searching hers.

"Yes, Ragnar is right. You should weave the sails outside, for all the Gods to see." His voice came out softer than he expected.

To his surprise, the blush returned to her cheeks and she ducked her head, wringing her hands in her lap.

"Thank you, Floki. I promise I will not get in your way."

The next day began at a much faster pace than the last few. The rain had finally cleared, signaling a return to the normal work day for many of the people as they cleared up from the storms. For Torunn, it meant the beginning of her new task, and for the first time, she felt nervous about it. Herself and several other slaves had hauled the large contraption far down the coast, until the sand nearly gave way to gnarled tree roots and great boulders that guarded the shore. Here it was before her, sunk solidly into the sand as though it had existed there for all time, only waiting for her to come along and make use of it. But as she looked upon the great loom (Lagertha had been being modest; it was magnificent), the only thing she could think about was how at this moment, a handful of paces into the forest behind her was Floki, hard at work on his ships.

She wasn't sure what to think about their interactions (or lack thereof) at the Lothbrok's home the night before. While he barely spoke a word to her, or at all for that matter, she couldn't help but notice that he had kept his eyes on her almost exclusively. Every time she dared to steal a glance at his tall, lanky form across the fire from her she would catch his intense gaze. Even when she resisted the temptation to look, a feat in itself, she could still feel his attention on her.

Part of her had felt insecure about it; perhaps he did not at all approve of this new development that was suddenly such a huge cog in the machine of his plans. Another part of her had felt deliciously excited, and she was glad the bright fire had been between them to help conceal the flush that refused to leave her face. A few days ago, she would have been awestruck to be working in such proximity to the man who so often plagued her thoughts. Now, she was more plagued by the worry that she would somehow disappoint him.

As quick as the thought crossed her mind, she cast it away. Resolutely, she decided that it was not possible. This was her task, and she knew it had been given to her by the Gods themselves. Her contribution to her people would come directly from her hands, translated through thick canvas and carried across the sea by the wind god Njord. Feeling more determined than ever, she set to work on her first piece.

It was truly a beautiful day for early autumn, and the light breeze that blew off the sea cooled her as the hours moved by. It had taken her a few passes to get used to the much larger apparatus, but the actions came naturally to her, and she quickly found a steady rhythm. Before she knew it, the sun was at midday point, and she had made a good amount of progress on the first sail.

Just as she stepped back to admire her progress, she heard footsteps in the underbrush near the woods. Her breath caught in her throat as Floki emerged from the trees, stopping right where the brush met the sand of the beach. His appearance was slightly disheveled, no more than normal. Wood shavings and dirt were strewn over his clothing and slight sweat was drying on his brow. The black markings which trailed down from his eyes were smudged slightly from the day's work. He leaned against the tree next to him, hand high on the bark. His eyes passed over her work, eventually coming to land on her face. She swallowed the lump that was already forming there.

"It seems Lagertha was right. Your sails may just take us West after all. I was not sure if I believed her."

Torunn narrowed her eyes slightly, pride getting the better of her. She let her hands find a solid place on her hips, meeting his gaze directly.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have discounted me so quickly?"

Floki raised his eyebrows, letting his hand fall from the tree. He strode over to her slowly, his eyes boring into hers, seeming to pierce through any veil of bravery she may have worn. Barely making a sound, his feet came to a stop half a step in front of her. His towering height quickly took a bite out of her surge of confidence, and her hands fell to clasp each other in front of her. Her thoughts whirled, wondering if she should prepare herself to be struck. Forgetting your place as a slave, even as the slave of an Earl, was a stupid thing to do.

She was unable to meet his intense stare. Her face fell, and she focused on the hard lines of his collar bones peeking out above his tunic. She knew the rosy hue of her cheeks was painfully obvious at this distance.

His hand came up slowly, and he hooked a long, lithe finger around her chin, pulling her gaze upward. He was so close that she could smell the scents of the forest that still clung to his skin and clothing. The depth of his gaze made her feel as though he could look directly through to her soul, and the feeling of vulnerability thrilled her as much as it frightened.

"Perhaps I should thank Lagertha for the good fortune of looking upon such a beautiful child of Freya."

Torunn felt her jaw slacken at the compliment, and before she could formulate a response his hand had steered her face to his and he was pressing hip lips against her own.

Surprise was the first emotion that registered to Torunn, but it was quickly quashed by adrenaline as she leant into his firm chest and let herself sink fully into his kiss. Feeling her respond, he hummed in approval, snaking his long arms around her delicate waist. Her hands slid upward and grasped either side of his neck as she moved her mouth fervently against his.

Torunn could barely register what was happening, but still she pressed her chest against him, her soft breasts already aching to be touched. She wanted to eliminate any space that separated his body from her own. She wanted his body to sink as deeply into her as his gaze had done.

Floki's impassioned personality seemed to spill over into his kissing. He kissed her desperately and clung to the curves of her waist as he held her tightly against him. His tongue darted out to tease her lips and she granted him entrance without question. He explored her mouth thoroughly, and she couldn't help but imagine what his dextrous tongue could do to her sex.

When she was all but panting into his mouth, he finally broke away, and abruptly began to pull the skirt of her long dress up and above her hips.

"No, stop!"

Without thinking, Torunn ripped herself away from his grasp so fiercely that she stumbled back and fell onto the sand, skirt still bunched around her waist. Floki froze, still standing, and stared at her. Her breath heaved in her chest, and to her dismay, she felt tears welling in her eyes.

Recognition dawned on Floki's face. He crouched low, holding his hand out as though to placate a scared animal.

"Ohh, no no, don't flee from me, daughter of Freya."

He slowly closed the distance between them, coming to kneel in front of her in the sand. For a moment he just watched her, letting her breathing slow, studying the despair in her eyes.

Torunn was humiliated. She was behaving like a babe in front of the only man she had ever desired. Her body had responded automatically when he began to disrobe her. All it could remember was the forced violations of her past. Would she never be able to enjoy the touch of a lover, then?

Floki leaned towards her slightly, but kept his hands resting on his own thighs.

"Elskan, have you ever heard of Gersemi, the most beautiful of Freya's daughters?"

Torunn felt a hot tear escape her, and she kept silent. She glanced up at him, an indication she was listening, but she felt too ashamed to speak. Floki did not look deterred.

"When she was born, they knew her beauty would be a shining jewel among the gods, and so they called her 'treasure.'"

He reached a hand forward, very slowly, giving her plenty of time to retreat should she choose to. His knuckles brushed gently against her face, and his thumb wiped away the tear track left on her cheek.

"The beauty of a jewel can become tarnished, dirty, and soiled by the greedy hands of men. But it's beauty can never be erased. Such is the power and allure of treasure."

His voice was soft, nearly a whisper, and she could read the sincerity in his eyes.

"I will cleanse you, elskan. You only have to trust me."


Elskan = my love/my darling