Edithe's sweet innocence infatuated Rollo like nothing else and the temptation to claim her was unending. Every touch they shared heated his core, every glance sizzled on his skin. How could she be so wild and tempestuous one minute and so deliciously naive in the next?
Did she have any idea what she stirred within him?
He laughed miserably at the way she ran from him. Cursing the Gods and cursing his overeager cock for filling with desperation at even the slightest hint of attention. But she had given it some attention, that much she couldn't deny. She'd looked, and in his opinion she'd looked interested.
Perhaps that was why she ran and why she raged so vehemently in the next room.
His hand tightened around his length. Would he once more have to relieve the pressure? He closed his eyes, picturing her, not just looking at him but reaching out to touch.
By the God's, if she had touched him he would have flipped her onto her back and plunged inside her with no restraint at all. How close she came to making him forget he'd ever promised to wait for her.
Now she lurked beyond the door and he willed her to open it, to see him, his legs spread and his hand pumping up and down. Already his release was close but he stopped, denying himself the final pleasure.
He'd not been so self reliant since he was a boy getting his arm ring and maybe a little pressure was what he needed now. He hadn't brought home such a beautiful bedmate to spend every night touching her only in his fantasies.
Already it had been well over a month since he'd found her. They couldn't go on like this forever. Their wedding day was fast approaching in his mind, a man could only wait so long with such sweet temptation laying in his bed night after night. He would be her husband soon enough and perhaps it was time he made greater headway in his endeavour.
He opened the door, stretching sleepy muscles and flexing everything else, much to her horror.
"Rollo!" she exclaimed, turning to face the wall and the sound of his name on her lips was music to his ears, filling his chest with a warmth that went beyond lust.
Strangely, after all this time she'd never called him by his name, always calling him heathen or some other insult. He'd learnt to enjoy those and receive them as love letters but Rollo sounded far better. He wanted her to say it again and perhaps standing here naked was not the best way to gain her favour but he'd committed to it now.
"It is just a body," he said, lying to his own highly-strung libido as he grabbed a sack of oats from the shelf beside her. "You can look at me all you want. I am yours to do with as you please."
If only she could say the same to him.
These days he didn't know which of his words she understood. But from the way she shifted, her head ever so slightly turning to steal a glance, he thought perhaps she had understood him well enough.
He swallowed hard, desire almost reaching out to choke him. He was walking a dangerous line between his promise not to not touch her and his baser instincts.
"You can do more than look..." he dared to say, allowing his fingers to tiptoe along her spine.
She straightened her back, her attention now entirely on the wall. "Heathen."
Rollo chuckled, his fingers unable to stop as they swept the hair from her neck to expose her soft, untouched skin.
Edithe's breath hitched and he licked his lips, a little kiss wouldn't hurt. Just a little taste.
Slowly he edged closer to her, half expecting her to run away and promising himself he would stop if she did. But she didn't move, she held her breath and as he learned in, the front door opened. Haedde appearing as she did every day yet the sight of her almost gave him a heart attack.
"Good morning," he muttered, snapping himself from the heady spell of lust and quickly moving the sack of oats in front of him to preserve her old eyes from too much alarm.
"I will go," she replied, eyeing them both with a smirk.
Every day he liked the old woman more and more and she seemed to settle into his household far easier than her Lady.
Rollo beckoned her, laughing softly now at his own misery. "Come in Haedde, I am just making breakfast for Edithe. I can see that she is very hungry this morning."
He certainly was.
Edithe ran to Haedde's protection, gesturing wildly as she condemned him in their private tongue.
"She says you are a beast," Haedde scorned with a knowing smile. By now she was used to sending their messages without need for a filter.
He laughed again, Edithe said he was a beast most days and today she wasn't wrong. Though he was fairly certain there wasn't a man in the entirety of Kattegat who could have resisted her this morning or any other.
"I think she is a Goddess," he praised but Haedde didn't relay his words, Edithe was too busy hurrying to the bedchamber with another slam of the door.
After a few seconds, his clothes came flying out.
"Do you think I'm a beast, old woman?" he grinned, pulling on his trousers and partially regretting his actions.
Haedde didn't answer but that was an answer all of its own.
"You can go for today," he decided, ushering her out the door.
"But Lady Edithe-"
"Is in safe hands," he promised, to Haedde, to himself, to any power which could stop his animal urges.
After a small breakfast, Rollo walked Edithe along the well-worn path to the meadow. It seemed no matter his behaviour she was still keen to leave the house and it was an exceptionally beautiful day.
When they reached their destination he spread his cloak across the grass before sitting to bask in the sunshine. It wasn't often they had weather as hot as this, and even less often that he could take the time to simply enjoy it.
"I'm waiting, heathen," she told him, tapping her sword impatiently against her leg.
Rollo breathed deeply, relaxing as he hooked his arm under his head and lay back to enjoy the burn of the sun's rays on his face. "It's too hot a day to fight."
His eyes were shut so he couldn't see exactly what she was doing, but he could sense her frustration like the coming of a storm.
"Sit, Edithe," he said, patting the grass beside him. "It will not kill you to relax."
Still, she did not sit and slowly he opened his eyes to see her standing with her sword ready to strike.
"Why must you always be so stubborn?" he sighed.
Her eyes narrowed, her sword stance becoming more purposeful. She might have been a pious little Christian but she was not above hitting a man when he was down.
She struck with full force, her sword barely missing the side of his head.
"By Thor's Hammer!" he cursed, reaching for her, his hand bunching into the hem of her dress. He yanked it, forcing her off balance.
She wanted to fight, so he would fight but not in the way she hoped. He wrestled her to the ground, rolling on top of her, pinning her body under his. It was too easy, too tempting.
Was she doing this on purpose?
Maybe part of her wanted his hands on her?
"Stop," she told him, wriggling in all the right ways to make him want to continue.
His eyes grazed her lips. "I will stop if you will stop," he said, unsure if he could keep his end of the bargain.
She wriggled more, forcing him to hold her tighter.
This morning was not the only time he'd noticed her watching him when she thought he was distracted, or stifling her laughter at his jokes.
Surely she felt the spark every time their skin touched as it touched now.
He could feel the way her pulse raced under his fingertips and the look on her face was not one of fear. Nor was it one of hatred. Her cheeks were pink, her pupils blown.
"I think you like this, Valkyrie. I think you want to feel me between your thighs," he whispered in her ear, daring her to deny him.
Slowly she stopped fighting and he loosened the grip he'd held on her wrists.
"We were fated for each other by the Gods. I think you can feel that too," he said, it seemed impossible that he would be alone in such affection but he had been wrong before.
"I feel nothing, Rollo. I hate you and I'll hate you until the long winter sets in and the world is swallowed by the sea and even in the void I will hate you." Her words were dripping with venom but her voice was soft with uncertainty.
It seemed Edithe understood far more then he gave her credit for. He'd told her the story of Ragnarok many times and now she was using it against him.
His whole life, Rollo had been rejected by everyone he ever cared for. First his parents, then Lagertha, even the God's favoured his little brother over him. Why should Edithe be any different?
She pushed him away and he let her, gathering his sword and shield.
"I'm done fighting with you," he said, walking back towards Kattegat.
Edithe lingered in the field and he left her there. If it was fate, then it shouldn't be this hard to win her favour. It would take a thousand lifetimes to make her care for him and he only had one.
By the time he was walking into town she'd caught up with him, keeping half a pace behind. Even though he was angry he still walked her safely home, leaving her there before he continued on.
At the training grounds he challenged any man who dared to fight him and when the day was over, his face was bruised and bloodied yet still he was still unsatisfied. He had an itch he needed to scratch and even the whore house did not satiate it.
In Ragnar's longhouse everyone gathered to feast and drink and Rollo took his place at his brothers table with the others. He wanted to quench his thirst with mead and ale but all anybody could ask was why he was there and not in bed humping his Saxon woman. It was a good question.
Why was his setting himself this test?
"If you cannot handle her then she is always welcome to stay with Lagertha and I. Or maybe even Athelstan would enjoy the company..." Ragnar teased.
Rollo downed his drink sloppily before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "Don't test me, little brother."
Ragnar laughed, "I am only trying to save you. Having a beautiful woman seems to make you even more miserable than before."
Lagertha nudged her husband, rolling her eyes, "ignore him, Rollo."
But he was hard to ignore. Ragnar was like all little brothers, a constant pain in the backside. He knew just how to claw his way under Rollo's skin.
"Why not bring her here?" he said, jumping up on the table, dancing with his cup in hand, "let the ale strip her inhibitions and with any luck her clothes."
"You are confusing the difference between a wife and a whore. Even an animal like me can wait until she is joined to me before the Gods."
Ragnar stopped his dancing and the laughter at the table quietened, they were surprised. Even Rollo was surprised by his admission.
Of course, they'd assumed he was bedding Edithe. Why would anyone consider the alternative? He was well within his rights to do with her as he pleased, whether he married her or not.
But this was supposed to be his chance at something special, something that was his alone. Something which belonged to him instead of Ragnar.
Rolf was the first to speak, still cradling his ribs from the beating Rollo had given him in the training grounds. "You have not broken her in, Rollo? No wonder you are so foul-tempered these days."
Rollo tightened his jaw, letting them laugh, what did it matter anyway?
"To my brother," Ragnar smirked, raising his cup, "bedmate to the only maid in Kattegat."
"Skol," everyone at the table cheered except for Lagertha whose smile was more pitiful than anything else.
"I'm glad I can amuse you," he said, leaving them to their jokes. Moving to drink with people who would not ask him so many questions.
He drank until he could no longer stand and slept where he fell. A heap on the floor with the rest of the drunkards while the lovers found comfort in each other's arms. This was where he belonged. Why try to change that?
It wasn't fate to find Edithe. Just bad luck. He'd caught her to bring him happiness yet she'd brought nothing but torment and that was his curse. He was never meant to be happy, only ever alone and in the shadow of Ragnar.
