Authors Note: This chapter has been a long time coming! I lost steam and motivation and adulting got in the way of finding them again. But I've done the things I've been procrastinating doing and I've binged almost all of Outlander (love Murtagh and Fergus! I'm definitely gonna have to drive up to Inverness one day and live my highlander fantasies haha). Hope you've all been doing well. Let me know if you're still enjoying this fic! xxx
Rollo wasn't sure who tumbled through the door of Ragnar's longhouse shouting, "fire!" Because as soon as he heard the word, his mind became consumed by only one thing.
Edithe. Was she safe? Was it his home?
The entire future he'd planned for them seemed to suddenly hang in the balance. A stark reminder of how fragile life could be and how painful it was to allow yourself to care for another. Losing Edithe on the very same day she'd agreed to be his wife would be a cruel twist of fate. But misery was more familiar to him than happiness. So perhaps that was why he felt so much fear.
Scrambling from his seat, he piled outside with the others, ale still clutched in hand. His eyes seeking only one answer and relief loosening the tension in his chest when he found it. It wasn't his home. But it was someones. So with the fear of losing his woman still coursing through his veins, he dropped his cup and ran. Chasing the smoke until he found its source.
The building was already lost, that much was clear. But the people who lived inside were alive. All of them standing in the street, watching their small pocket of the world burn to dust. At least they had each other, he thought. A sentimental notion which would not have crossed his mind some months ago.
"Get the buckets," Ragnar commanded, somewhere in the distance and soon the street became a flurry of activity.
People poured from their houses to help and Rollo joined them. Taking bucket after bucket to douse the surrounding buildings while the fire spat and crackled, blisteringly hot to anyone who dared approach it.
In between the mayhem, he managed to find Haedde and ordered her to go check on Edithe and, more importantly, check on Rolf. It might have been selfish, but he did not want her left unattended. Even if stopping the fire from spreading needed all the help it could get. Spending a brief few seconds worrying about her safety had been enough. It comforted him to think of her tucked in his bed with a guard outside the door.
So when Haedde reappeared at his side, he didn't notice her. He wasn't expecting to see her again and by now, the smoke was so thick he could barely see his hand in front of his face.
"She's gone!" Haedde screeched, worriedly wringing her frail hands together but her words did not sound above the commotion which surrounded him.
Men, women, children, slaves. All of them working together, passing and throwing an endless stream of buckets while the fire sang a furious tune. A lone voice was like a whisper in the chaos.
"Edithe's gone!" Haedde shouted again, grabbing his arm to force his attention and this time the words burrowed into his brain like the edge of a blade. Yet even upon hearing them, he continued throwing the buckets, the words not quite registering as they turned over in his mind.
Edithe couldn't be gone. Could she?
He paused, his blood running like ice in his veins as he glanced to Haedde. Her eyes filled with unshed tears, her face alarmingly white in the thick black smoke. "She's gone!" she repeated and his bucket of water fell to the ground in favour of his axe.
Of course she was gone. She wanted her freedom. Had she not always told him so?
Haedde flinched at the sight of his weapon but it was not for her. It was for Rolf. By the Gods, he'd have his head for losing Edithe. Then he would hunt his stubborn Saxon down with every last breath in his body. He only hoped he would not be too late. These lands contained all manner of savage things and he would be surprised if she survived a single day on her own.
He'd been teaching her to defend herself but she didn't know these woods, she didn't know how to find food or shelter. She didn't know the tracks of a dangerous animal and sooner or later she would come across the most dangerous ones of all, men.
What was she thinking?
Was the idea of being with him really so repulsive?
Her betrayal cut him deeply, ripping open old wounds and the disappointment tasted so familiar on his tongue. He'd wanted something that was his and like everything else she'd chosen to slip through his fingers without any regard.
He was so blind with rage as he pushed through the crowds that he collided into a shieldmaiden, the cool water in her bucket sloshing over his trousers. He reached for her, intent on shoving her aside. But in an instant, their eyes connected and his heart tripped over a beat before hammering faster in his chest.
"Edithe," he gasped. Surprised. Elated.
Soot was smeared on her cheeks and the firelight danced in her eyes. Just like the night they'd met. A beautiful Valkyrie.
"You're here," he said, his hand gripping her arm, feeling the realness of her under his touch.
"You should watch where you're going!" she scolded, as if it was perfectly natural for her to be hurrying freely around Kattegat. As if he hadn't been charging towards the woods, intent on tracking her every runaway step. As if he hadn't wanted to kill a man for letting her escape.
He supposed none of that mattered now, she was here and an unexpected grin filled his face. His world slowing for a moment while chaos and flames roared all around him. She'd escaped. He did not know how or why but she'd had a chance to leave and decided to remain. Perhaps she did not find him so repulsive after all. Perhaps, he dared to believe, she was happy to be his wife.
Watching her pass the bucket to Athelstan before turning to collect the next from down the line, he remained rooted to the spot, grinning like a fool. He could have watched her all night, standing uselessly while the world burned. But he was soon interrupted by Rolf.
"I cannot find her Rollo! She has disappeared like a ghost," he said, his eyes more frantic than Haedde's had been.
The irony of the situation was not lost on Rollo, who gazed upon Edithe while Rolf claimed she'd vanished. He even laughed, blood vengeance no longer in his heart but that didn't stop his hand balling into a fist before it connected with Rolf's nose. The force erupting a satisfying crack, sending the great Viking to the floor like a felled tree.
Today was the last time he would trust a fool with something as precious as his Saxon. And perhaps it was the last time he would place a guard at her door at all. If she wanted freedom then he would give it to her. All he asked in return was loyalty and wasn't she giving that to him now?
Standing with his people, fighting for Kattegat. He wondered why he'd ever doubted their fate. Wondered why he'd allowed himself to be filled with so much rage and disappointment. Hadn't the very Gods opened his eyes to Edithe?
He joined her in the line, passing the buckets until morning arrived and the fire dwindled down to nothing but embers. The flames hadn't spread beyond a single house. So it was a great victory but there were no celebrations, only tired faces and worn muscles. Including his own.
Scooping up water to wash his face and hands, he watched Edithe who was now standing by the shoreline with Haedde. Both of them looking towards Briton, looking towards home. Part of her would always run there, no matter how long she stayed. He accepted that. But perhaps one day, when she thought of home, it would be their home which came to mind first. The chairs by their fire and the warmth of their bed.
For now, he thanked her runaway feet for sticking with him and, while they chatted, he hovered in the background. Not wanting to interrupt their private moment. But Haedde noticed his lurking and her smile welcomed him into their conversation.
"You must be exhausted, Lord."
"No more than you are," he praised, returning her smile, "you should head home and rest for the day."
"But, Lady Edithe-"
"Will be fine," Edithe interrupted, clutching Haedde's hand fondly. "Rollo is right, you should take care."
"Yes, it has been a long night," she conceded, pulling her Lady into her arms and squeezing her in a mother's embrace. Seeming, he thought, as pleased as he was that Edithe had not strayed too far.
"You take care too, child, hm? You need to be well-rested for what is to come."
Edithe's eyes met his for the briefest of moments before she focused back on Haedde. "I will, I promise," she said and together they watched the old woman leave before walking home, side by side, the silence interrupted only by their footsteps.
In the days before he'd told her of their upcoming marriage, a silence like this would not have stretched to such lengths. But this morning it span all the way across Kattegat and he hated every moment of it.
For the tenth time, he glanced at the sack of belongings she had clutched in her hands and considered saying nothing. But her escape was too great to ignore. "I'm glad you were there to help last night," he said and her footsteps faltered until she was walking half a pace behind.
"I was going to run away."
He glanced at her, surprised by her honesty, "I know."
Her eyes widened, her steps faltering again, "you're not angry?"
He'd half wondered if she would make up a reason for why she'd been outside and was grateful she hadn't. "Why should I be angry when you chose to stay?"
"I disobeyed you. In my experience, men do not take too kindly to being disobeyed by their wives and daughters."
"I'm not your master, Edithe," he said and in an instant, he knew what sort of questions would spring from her lips. So he answered them before she had a chance to ask, "make no mistake, I won't be your master but I will be your husband."
"In Northumbria, they are the same thing," she replied miserably.
A smile quirked at his lips, "you're not in Northumbria and I won't punish my wife for having a mind of her own. Even if she's wrong."
She glared at him for the last part but he knew her well enough to see she was pleased with the rest. Pleased to see he would be a forgiving husband and if he was honest, even he was surprised by that. But Edithe seemed to coax all manner of gentleness from him, whether she tried to or not. It came naturally to him now. He didn't want to be the kind of husband who was feared by his wife and children. He wanted to be loved.
As they walked the rest of the way, the silence was more comfortable. Born out of tiredness rather than unspoken things and when they made it home, they fell lazily onto the bed. Not even bothering to remove their clothes or fill their grumbling stomachs.
Sleep called to him, weighing his eyes down and lulling his breathing into a slow, deep rhythm. But Edithe's gaze remained alert and he could feel the very heat of it resting on his skin as plain as if she touched him with her hands.
"What's wrong?" he asked, rolling onto his side so he could look upon her more easily.
"I want you to take me on your raid to Briton."
Rollo couldn't help but laugh. Last night she wanted to run away, now she was asking him to help her do it.
"It's not a joke," she added.
"I know," he swallowed his laughter. "But even if I didn't think you would flee the moment we landed, I still wouldn't take you. It's not safe and you would not like what you saw when we got there."
"I don't care what you plan on doing," she insisted, sitting up in the bed, frustration dripping from every movement.
He wasn't stupid enough to believe her. "Don't lie to me, Edithe."
"I'm not-" she met his stare, "-you'll raid no matter where I am and I'd rather be with you. I mean…" she considered her words more carefully, "I want to find my sister. She fled when the fighting started and I don't even know if she's alive or dead. But I have to try. Even if I don't find anything of her, I can't spend the rest of my life wondering and if I leave it too long then I may as well never go at all."
With a heavy sigh, he rolled onto his back pressing his palm soothingly over his eyes. He couldn't imagine feeling such desperation to find Ragnar. Yet last night he'd been willing to let all of Norway burn to dust to find Edithe. So in a way, he could understand her desire to look for her sister. But taking her home seemed like a fool's errand. Her sister was lost and every raid he did she would hate him more and more.
"I can't," he answered, disliking the way it felt to disappoint her.
"Please, Rollo," she urged, her voice soft and earnest. Nobody ever asked anything of him with such gentleness.
He sat up on his elbow and cupped her cheek, savouring the way she was looking at him. Her face so beautifully open. "Valkyrie, I want to please you but you are asking me for the one thing I do not wish to give. At least not this time."
"But I will be your wife," her gaze dropped demurely to her lap, while her hand brushed along his thigh provocatively. "Your real wife," she added, her eyes now burning into his.
In an instant, Rollo's blood coursed with untamed desire yet somehow he managed to grab her wrist and remove the temptation like it was a brand searing painfully into his skin. "Do not sell yourself like a whore. You will be my wife and I will not bargain for your body."
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, innocence dripping from her like water in the rain. He wondered if she truly had any idea of what she did to him with such actions? Or what she offered with such words? But he would only take what she offered to him freely.
"Write your sister a message and I will deliver it to her," he said, releasing her wrists and fighting the urge to test how good a wife she could be.
But this was Edithe and, like him, she was not easily deterred from the things she wanted. "If you will not agree to take me then I must insist," she said, her face now resolute.
Yet again he laughed, only causing her eyes to fill with more determination as she stood from the bed to tower above him.
"When you are my husband, we will be equals will we not?" she demanded.
What a stubborn little creature she was. " Yes ."
"Then I will go with you as is my right as your equal ."
When she was like this, he found her irresistible. Commanding him to her bidding suited her far more than gentle persuasion or persuasion of any other kind.
Springing to his feet, it was him who now towered over her, backing her against the wall. "Woman, I could tie you to the bed, as is my right."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"I would dare," he whispered. Tying her up would be the easier option. Resisting temptation had been slow torture from the moment he'd decided to do it.
But why fight her? Why deny himself? Why begin their marriage with unhappiness?
It was a fool's errand to take her with him and for Edithe, Rollo was a fool. "I will take you," he conceded and a smile brightened her face.
"Thank you," she said and he relished her happiness, almost feeling guilty for her gratitude. Because who was really winning? There would be no lonely nights in Northumbria now. Come Friday, there would be no lonely nights at all.
"You will stay in camp and you will not complain," he said, laying down ground rules he knew she would break the moment they didn't suit her mood.
She did not agree to them, he noted, watching her crawl back into bed. But he didn't press her for promises. He'd said he wasn't her master and now he was proving it. Besides, in two days she would be his wife and that was promise enough.
