Two weeks crawled by at a snail's pace and all the while, Rollo stayed true to his word. There were no kisses or touches, not even accidental ones. Just space and time to think. Too much time really.
In the mornings they shared breakfast politely by the fire. Conversation never sinking below the surface, as if they'd returned to a point in time where they hardly knew each other at all. In the evenings, he'd return home after supper, and they would settle down for the night on opposite sides of the bed, with a long stretch of mattress laying between them.
At first, her skin ached for his touch. But what could she say? What could she do to ease the tension which smothered them? Had she not promised herself freedom? Did she not want, more than anything, to return home?
Today they would set sail and she found herself idling by the docks, where a hundred men were preparing to depart in what would be the greatest voyage they had ever seen. There was so much to look at yet her focus found interest in only one man. His hair tied upon his head, his shoulders broad and strong as he heaved sacks of supplies onto the boat.
It would have been far easier if Rollo had been cruel to her these past two weeks. Or if he'd been gone from their house entirely. But his daily presence only drip-fed the infatuation which had clawed its way under her skin. Her blushes were even deeper now she knew the touch of his hands, her body more receptive now it knew the feel of his lips.
He didn't have to say or do anything in particular to catch her attention because she noticed everything. The way his hand held his cup, the way he sighed as fell asleep. She knew there wasn't a place more comfortable than his arms or a feeling more pleasurable than...
Stop, she told herself, banishing her train of thought before it began to unravel. Yet it was already too late. Heat curled low in her body, temptation provoking her into careless action as she took one step forward, followed by another and another.
God help her it would be so easy to walk right up to him. She could even imagine the smile which would crease into his cheeks if she did. He wouldn't deny her, he would give her whatever she wanted and that made it all the more difficult to stop. Near impossible some nights when she wandered into that long expanse of mattress, hoping he would lose himself there too.
"You must be excited to return home."
Ragnar's voice came as an unwelcome surprise and she avoided his gaze, her cheeks flush with impure thoughts. Excited wasn't exactly the word she would use. Afraid was closer to the truth but she wasn't prepared to reveal that to Ragnar when she could hardly reveal it to herself.
"I wish it was under different circumstances," she said, turning and heading, for the final time, back towards home.
Ragnar followed. "You do not wish to return home as Rollo's wife?"
Wife. A role she had been born to play. Yet nobody had prepared her for this. She was supposed to marry a Christian man. Supposed to be agreeable and subservient, the quiet strength at her husbands back but never his equal. Wives were not supposed to leave their husbands, they were meant to endure. Her thumb pressed to the ring sitting on her finger, "I didn't say that."
"Yet it's what you think, is it not?"
Her pace quickened in an effort to shake him but Ragnar was not a man who could easily be ignored.
"Tell me, Edithe, why has my brother spent every day working and drinking in town rather than in the company of his very-" he blocked her from walking further, his eyes bright blue eyes studying her reaction, "captivating bride."
"Why don't you ask him?"
"I did," he answered quickly and her stomach knotted, "but don't worry, he didn't reveal your little secrets."
Relief eased into her chest.
"You do not like me very much, do you?" he chuckled, holding her stare with barely a blink.
"Why should I like you at all?" she retorted and her candour seemed to catch him off guard, at least for a moment, before mischief returned to his eyes.
"You're not an easy woman to please."
"It's not your duty to please me."
"But still, I would like to." His lips curved into a grin, "it is nice to have someone who can keep Rollo on so tight a rope."
"And who will keep you on a rope?" She said, starting back towards home once more.
"Would it surprise you if I said I did not wish to fight when we return to Northumbria?" he called after her but she gave no pause or gratitude, what use was peace to her now? Yet Ragnar seemed to find enjoyment in her disinterest, a challenge even as he caught back up to her.
"Raiding will not provide for my people forever but land, that is something we can build upon. I wish to negotiate a settlement with your King."
Edithe's lips pressed together. She hardly knew what reaction she was trying to contain. Laughter or a grimace.
"Do you not think King Aelle would be agreeable to this?"
"I hardly know him."
"But you know your people and there is land enough for all. Would they accept it?"
Edithe scoffed, "Danes are hated as far and wide as the land stretches. Perhaps if you had not arrived with so much bloodshed, there could have been talk. But you will never be accepted and you will never be given land without a fight." Her hand found the pommel of her father's sword, which now sat comfortably on her hip, "We are not as weak as you might think. Don't mistake our Christianity for vulnerability."
"You accepted Rollo."
Her heart tightened, "that's different."
"Is it? You hated him yet you have bound yourself to him willingly."
"I'm just one woman and I've been living and breathing your world for months. You can't expect them to see you as anything more than..." she stopped careless insults from slipping from her tongue, she believe them now, "Northmen."
Together they reached the front door of her house and she stopped, not wanting the conversation to pass beyond. Not wanting to explain that she still hadn't forgiven Rollo and wasn't sure if she ever could. "It will take a lifetime to undo the damage you have caused."
"So we should begin negotiations as soon as we arrive," he smiled, unperturbed. "Will you join me for them, Edithe? You have seen this land, will you help speak for our people?"
She was surprised. By his proposal and his naivety. "Do you really think King Aelle wants to listen to a woman? Much less the wife of a Dane?"
"You were betrothed to his son were you not?"
"Yes," she laughed miserably, "but not for my advice or opinions."
Ragnar leaned closer, "then more fool him."
The gravitas of being asked for help by a King was not lost on Edithe. Ragnar was a powerful man, highly respected by his people. Even if she hated him, she could not ignore his position in society or the weight his name carried across the sea. Still, in Northumbria, it was not her place to discuss matters of land or politics with Kings.
"I will give you time to think and we will talk more when we arrive," he said, as though sensing her reluctance. "But do not underestimate yourself, Edithe. So few people in this world can speak for both Saxons and Danes."
She watched him walk away, feeling the weight of responsibility settling onto her shoulders as he'd intended it to. But that was a worry for another day. Right now, she had more pressing matters to think on and when she stepped inside the house, Haedde was already there. Busily working away, stripping the bed while Edithe's belongings sat in a trunk by the door.
"It would seem you cannot wait to rid yourself of me," she joked, helping Haedde gather the blankets which would be beaten and washed ready for Rollo's return.
"Every time I think of you on that boat I-" Haedde crossed herself, her voice breaking. "God protect you, child."
If she had told Edithe one thing consistently these past two weeks, it was how terrified she was of the water. Scared enough that even the possibility of finding her family couldn't tempt her. Or perhaps what she feared most of all was returning home and finding nothing. Edithe knew that fear well enough for herself though she was stubborn enough to ignore it. Regardless, she could not go without asking Haedde to join her at least one more time.
"I'm sure all will be well, and it's not too late to change your mind about coming with me..." Edithe moved so she could take Haedde's hands into her own. "Rollo would make room for you on the boat and then we needn't be parted."
"You mustn't fret," Haedde sniffled, though it was she who looked flustered, her eyes red with unshed tears, "I will be here when you return."
But that was the problem.
"Haedde..." Edithe hadn't told her the whole truth about her journey homeward. She'd been afraid to say it out loud. Afraid to admit, with some shame, that she had made a sacred vow before God and was preparing to break it.
"What is it, child?"
Forcing a smile, the truth disappeared from her tongue like it had done each time she'd tried to say it. "I will miss you," she whispered instead and perhaps it was selfish but it felt good to pull Haedde into a tight embrace, letting their time together end without upset or argument. "You have been my greatest source of comfort and my greatest friend while I have been here."
"Child," Haedde laughed as tears now ran down her cheeks, "it will only be a few months and when you return, I want happy news."
She placed her hand on Edithe's stomach, indulging the fantasy of a new baby but it was not to be. Edithe's moon blood had arrived and gone since her night spent as Rollo's wife, leaving an emptiness she'd never noticed before. She was not pregnant and never would be with Rollo's child.
"Finding Nessie will be my happiest news," she reminded Haedde and moments later there was a knock at the door. Its tune so familiar after spending months under his supervision but it was not the knock she had wanted.
"Come in," Edithe called and Rolf ducked inside with a wide smile.
"It's time to go," he said, excitement in his voice as he picked up her trunk and immediately began to leave. No more time for tears and drawn out goodbyes, just one last bone crushing squeeze for Haedde and one last farewell to the house. Her eyes sweeping past the chairs by the fire, into the bedchamber and under the bed where she could just make out the faint outline of her shield. She'd placed it there this morning, wanting to leave part of herself behind. Knowing it wouldn't belong with her in Northumbria.
Would Rollo find it when he returned home? Would he think of her?
"Hurry now or he'll leave without you," Haedde urged, shooing her through the door. "And keep safe, child."
"I will," she promised, backing away before finally turning to chase Rolf as he hurried on long strides through Kattegat.
The docks now bustled with even more activity than before. Row after row of longboats waiting for husbands to kiss their wives farewell and hold tearful children in one last embrace. Passing by, Edithe felt their sadness burning in the back of her throat as she swallowed tears down. She didn't deserve them. She was returning home, not leaving it.
Rolf told her to wait for him by the boat while he brought her things on board but it wasn't his hands which slipped onto her waist, lifting her from land to sea. It was Rollo's and suddenly her heart was thudding.
"You're still my wife. I can't have another man touching you while everyone is watching," he whispered, as though he had to explain himself. As though she might be repulsed by him.
Say something, she practically screamed to herself but her mind wavered. Words forming and disappearing from her tongue in quick succession before finally settling, unsatisfyingly, on, "where should I sit?"
Instantly she regretted her question. Hated the way his hands, which had been holding tightly onto her waist, fell to his side as he turned away.
"Over there," he nodded vaguely towards the stern before moving to busy himself with something else, anything else but her and perhaps it was for the best.
Yet if it was, why did her heart now feel so much heavier as she made her way across the boat?
Taking a seat in the quiet corner he'd carved out just for her, it was hardly any time at all until they were pulling away from the docks. The men all rowing in time, their eyes forward while hers looked back. Watching the shore, thinking of the day she'd arrived, dragged in from the sea, and found it a hateful place. She'd been wrong. It was a beautiful land, once you got to know it. Wide-open and wild. Mountains which touched the sky and fjords which carved through the Earth as though they'd been crafted by giants.
If asked, she would speak for the people who lived here. Dagmar and Hilde, Haedde and Rolf. Even Rollo. She looked at him now, willing his eyes to meet hers and when they did, she smiled. But he didn't return her affection, his face remained frozen in the same downturned expression he'd worn all week.
She was hurting him. Though she hadn't planned it this way. Hadn't planned on allowing a spark to strike between them. Hadn't noticed each time they'd added tinder to the flame. Only when it raged did she realise how close she was to letting it consume her entirely. Now it starved in the void and a simple smile couldn't save it.
So she stopped smiling and turned back towards shore but that was gone too. Beyond the horizon, only to be conjured in memory if she ever wanted to see it again.
"Farewell," she whispered on the wind, the word spoken for her ears alone yet she said it in Norse. Sometimes she even dreamed in Norse. How strange that was.
Authors Note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm so glad to finally be posting it after slowly chipping away at it while I've been sick. Thank you to everyone who left such lovely comments on the last chapter. I really enjoyed reading them and they certainly cheered me up when I was feeling rather sorry for myself!
