Rollo's heart pounded as he watched Edithe hurrying from their kiss. A week away had done nothing to subdue his desire for her, nor increased it. His desire remained complete, as it always had.
How could she deny herself? How could she deny the way the air around them seemed to sizzle with every touch?
When she reached the path she paused, glancing to where the meadow ebbed into the forest. He edged forward, every muscle in his body prepared to chase her if she tried to do anything stupid.
She certainly seemed to consider it. But in the end, she turned towards home and he breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps there was a part of him who kept a guard at her door to stop her escaping after all.
With the touch of her lips still burning onto his, he hurried after her on long strides. One kiss was not enough, not enough by far.
Eventually her run slowed into a walk and Rollo gained ground quickly, his hands itching to reach out and take hold of her. She had kissed him back, he thought. She had wanted more, he convinced himself.
Edithe noticed his speed and matched it. Both of them walking faster and faster until the streets of Kattegat were a blur in his peripheral and the house was in sight. She made a dash for it and he ran too, catching only the slam of the door as she slinked inside.
He clung to the frame, pressing his head against the cool wooden planks. His better judgement told him he should probably not follow her inside, yet his fingers found the handle anyway.
"Women trouble, Rollo?" Rolf sniggered as he approached.
"Is there any other kind?" Rollo groaned, his better judgment now winning out as he forced himself away from the door.
"There's Ragnar…" Rolf smirked, "he's wondering why you have not yet been to see him."
Rollo had spent the last week serving as Ragnar's envoy to Jarl Knud. He never particularly liked the man but Knud commanded a large number of warriors and Ragnar was planning another raid. When they returned to Briton it would be with a greater force than any they had ever seen.
Rollo looked forward to it. Raiding made his heart sing and he was pleased to think Ragnar trusted him to speak on his behalf. But it was for selfish reasons he'd agreed to serve as envoy. He'd wanted time away from whatever spell Edithe cast over him. Yet as soon as he returned to Kattegat his feet had carried him homewards without any delay.
"I will go to him," he decided. If he'd gone to Ragnar in the first place then his heart wouldn't be racing as it was. It seemed one kiss would have to be enough after all. At least for now.
"Your journey was successful?" Ragnar said when Rollo found him in the longhouse.
"Yes. Knud has agreed to join us, he'll be sending men within the month."
"Rolf came to tell me and I have to admit, I was surprised you didn't want to tell me the good news yourself."
Ordinarily nothing made Rollo happier than thinking about raiding. "I was… distracted."
Ragnar laughed, taking a seat where Rollo could join him. "So, will you be marrying this distraction before or after we raid again?"
Rollo scratched his beard, he'd asked himself this question many times. Raiding would take him away from Kattegat for weeks, if not months. They may even spend the winter in Northumbria.
He was certain he could not leave Edithe behind without officially claiming her as his wife. The title would offer her some protection. But more than anything, he could not wait countless more months before sinking himself between her thighs and extinguishing some of the unbearable heat between them.
"We could always take her home if she is not suiting you," Ragnar smirked, toying with him as usual. "I'm sure King Aelle would still pay riches for her, especially since you've so kindly kept her virtue intact."
"Believe me, I did not do it for the pleasure of a Christian King."
Ragnar laughed, handing him a cup of ale.
"I desire to have her more than ever," Rollo admitted, his voice strained. "Perhaps now is the time."
"In that case, I have a gift for you, brother," Ragnar disappeared to his chamber and, when he returned, he presented Rollo with a sword.
It was impressive. A golden hilt intricately carved with swirls and knots. The pommel contained a deep green stone like the fertile fields of Edithe's homeland.
"It was her fathers," Ragnar explained before Rollo had a chance to ask why he was giving him such a precious gift. "For your wedding day," he added.
Using Edithe's ancestral sword in their ceremony would be a great blessing to their marriage. But showing it to her would surely destroy all the ground he'd gained in her affections.
Heartache fell easily onto her face whenever she was reminded of home. And anger was never far behind when she remembered it was Rollo who had brought her here. He knew that. He knew it all too well.
He might have saved her by choosing to bring her home with him. But the night he'd found her, it was clear he'd killed someone she cared about. He'd heard the anguish in her scream. Saw the sorrow on her face. He'd hurt her. He just didn't understand how much. Family was usually a bond he merely tolerated.
"Thank you, little brother," he said, looking at Ragnar with fresh eyes.
It was no secret he often envied him. Ragnar seemed blessed, walking through life and earning fame and glory as easily as most men earn battle scars and misery. But this was a precious gift, given only with love.
Ragnar grinned, raising his cup of ale, "the wedding will be a great celebration. We will feast, and drink, and praise the gods that you finally get to hump your Saxon."
Rollo laughed, nobody would praise the gods more than he when he finally bedded Edithe.
He drained his cup, remembering what she had said to him in the meadow. "Edithe told me you visited her."
"Yes," Ragnar admitted openly.
Surprisingly he didn't feel jealous, only confused, "why?"
"I wanted to see the woman who captured my brother so easily."
Rollo poured more ale, wishing Edithe sought his affection as strongly as he sought hers, "believe me, brother, it was I who captured her."
"Was it?" Ragnar grinned.
Rollo chuckled, thinking how easily she controlled his every thought and every action. "I'm sure I will never understand women."
"They are not meant to be understood, only obeyed," Ragnar's eyes narrowed mischievously.
It was late when he finally stumbled home. He'd stayed drinking and talking with Ragnar far longer than he could ever remember doing. At least in recent times.
When he entered the house, he tried desperately not to clatter about too loudly in the dark as he hid Edithe's sword in the rafters. She would not think to look for it there, she would not even reach it.
Kicking off his boots he headed into the bedchamber and caught his foot on the end of the bed, falling, arms flailing, onto the mattress and the soft, curled form of his little Saxon.
"Get off!" she shrieked, both of them tussling in a sea of limbs, blankets and darkness. Rollo trying to do as she asked and Edithe hitting him by way of thank you.
"Have mercy on me, woman," he chuckled, as he fell from the bed and onto the floor with a bang.
"Argh," he moaned, his head knocking painfully against the wall.
He heard her hurrying from the bedchamber to the front room and when she returned she held a candle, the glow lighting up her frown.
"You're drunk," she scolded.
"A little," Rollo's eyes swept downwards, investigating the white nightgown she was wearing. He'd never seen it before. She usually slept in her clothes but tonight her hair was free from braids, her feet bare and the nightgown easy to remove if she gave him a chance.
"Why don't you sleep outside with the rest of the animals?" she spat, disapproving.
He didn't want to fight her, he hadn't even wanted to wake her. "I hurt my head," he said, hoping to appeal to her softer side though he was unsure if she had one for him.
Edithe's shoulders relaxed, her face no longer a frown as she settled the candle down and knelt between his legs.
Rollo didn't dare touch her, he only watched, captivated by how feminine she looked in the candlelight.
"Show me then," she commanded.
He shifted himself upwards, leaning forward, his whole body tensed in anticipation of her touch.
Her fingers were gentle, gliding through his hair, sending tingles along his spine as she inspected him for injury. Perhaps he should have thought of doing this earlier.
"There's nothing wrong with you," she decided.
She was right of course. The pain of his injury had stopped before she'd even knelt down to inspect him. But he wasn't going to tell her that. He was too busy enjoying the heat of her body radiating through the flimsy nightgown.
She began to stand and instantly he missed the closeness and the sweet lavender smell of her hair.
"I like this," he told her, letting the fabric of her nightdress run through his fingers as she walked away.
"I do not wear it for you."
"But I like it anyway," he smiled, heaving his heavy limbs from the floor and onto the bed.
Edithe crawled in gingerly beside him, leaving the candle to light the room.
He thought about telling her the plans for their upcoming nuptials but even a belly full of ale could not give him the courage for that. There was one question though, and there never seemed to be a right time to bring it up. But if he ever wanted her forgiveness then he must seek it from her.
"Was he your brother?" he asked and from her reaction, he knew he didn't need to say more.
She rolled away from him and he could hear her gentle sobs no matter how much she tried to conceal them.
"I'm sorry," he told her, he'd never apologised for killing before and in truth he wasn't sorry he'd killed her brother but he was sorry he'd hurt her. "You must understand, everything we do is the will of the God's. It was his fate whether it was by my hand or someone else's."
"I don't believe in fate, heathen."
He reached out to comfort her before tightening his fingers into a fist. What did he know of comforting anyone? Nobody ever sought him for anything but killing and fighting, it was all he was good for. It was all Edithe wanted from him. To train her how to kill and it was the very reason she hated him.
"Do you want me to leave you?"
She turned to face him, her eyes red and her cheeks flushed, "what does it matter what I want?"
"It matters to me." Couldn't she see how much he tried to please her? Ragnar had never tried so hard for Lagertha.
"Then free me."
Rollo sighed, "you know I cannot do that. Even if I could, there's nowhere for you to go and there's nobody who can protect you like I can."
She rolled over, blocking him out once more.
It was hard to believe they had shared a kiss only a few hours ago. He thought he had gained so much ground. But the battle with Edithe was more like a siege and he'd only won a glimpse inside her heavily guarded walls.
Perhaps he shouldn't have put plans in motion for their wedding after all. By the Gods, he would look like a fool if she refused him now.
