Chapter 13

Rollo leapt lightly onto the balcony once more. Then froze two steps before he entered the room. A candle was lit. He raced to lean against a column before she saw him. This was not as he planned. He had the sudden urge to leave. To give up the fight. To disappear into the night as he planned. Why was it the gods never showed him any small favors? He was thwarted at every turn. He had to go, what else could he do?

He could wait.

He shook his head at the thought. It seemed like a very "un-Rollo" thing to do. He had never done anything like it in the past. He was a man of great passion and will. A man who was never afraid to leap into the fray or face down whatever dared to cross his path. Biding his time was departure from all of that.

If he was patient, in a small way, he would no longer be Rollo of Kattegat. He would be a new Rollo. A Rollo he had not known before. It occurred to him that perhaps he would need to change himself slightly if he was to win the princess over. Perhaps, Gisla needed this new Rollo to be her husband.

For what felt like the first time in his life Rollo tempered his need to fearlessly charge into the unknown or die trying. Instead he sat as still as stone and watched the moon climb high into the night sky. A peaceful quiet entered the chamber behind him and he knew he had made the right decision.

With a soft tread he walked into the room. The gentle snores of Gisla echoed through the chamber. She was quite beautiful covered in the soft light of the flame, but darkness still suited his purposes best. He licked the tips of his fingers and snuffed the candle out by pinching the base of the flame. The room fell into darkness.

He walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in between the covers. The change of lighting must have disturbed her. He felt her shift about the bed as she entered wakefulness.

"You are here again." She mumbled.

"Yes I am. Now go back to sleep it is late." He chided her.

"Why did you put out my light?" She said, her voice filled with a dreamy confusion.

"I did not wish to have it on."

"Why?"

"I did not think you would wish to see me."

She reached out to take his hand, "You are mistaken, I find no greater pleasure than having you here with me. How do you not know that?"

He leaned towards her and kissed her soundly. It was moments like these when he could fully realize his own love for her, despite all the problems that still existed between them.

"I do know that you enjoy having me here, but still I think that if you were to look upon me you would feel quite a fright." He whispered to her, their noses nearly pressed together.

She was quite for a time and Rollo wondered if she had fallen back asleep. Suddenly one of her hands descended on his face and her fingers began to fumble over his features.

"What is it you are doing?" He asked as he pulled her wrist away from his face in an attempt to keep her fingers out of his eye.

"I am trying to feel if you are hideous or deformed in some way." She said as she tried to move her hand back down towards his face.

"And why would you think I was that way?" He said still keeping her hand away from him, and feeling slightly offended.

"Because why else would you put out the light? You said your look would frighten me."

"Very well," he conceded, realizing his own mistake, "but you must tell me what it is you find."

He let her lower her hand back down to his face and she began to feel around, this time she was less erratic with her movements as she let the tips of her fingers drift over his features.

"You have a beard." She began as she traced her fingers over his cheek and jawbone.

"Do you like it?"

"Hmm, I do not know. But yours at least feels thick and not scraggily like many men insist on keeping theirs."

"It is thick, and it was longer too until I had it trimmed trying to impress a woman."

"Did that impress her?"

"I do not think so. In fact, I know so. She openly scorned me in front of her friends for it."

"She sounds like a shrew." Gisla spat, "I would not pay mind to her any longer if I were you."

A deep rumble of a laugh escaped him, "And I would not judge her so harshly if I were you."

"And why not? I am a well behaved woman, and would never do anything to bring dishonor to a good man."

"You think me a good man?" Rollo spoke up suddenly.

"Yes I do," Gisla told him fervently, "but tell me about this other woman?"

A smile flicked across Rollo's face. Was she jealous? He liked the idea of that.

"Which other woman?" He teased her.

Gisla sighed in frustration, "The one you just spoke of. The one you trimmed your beard for. The one who is haughty and disrespectful."

"Oh, that one," Rollo said pretending like he was just realizing who she was speaking of. "Yes she may be haughty there is no doubt of that, but she is very young and unsure of herself. I think in time these things could change. But there are good things about her too, she is very brave, braver than most men. And she has a very noble spirit."

Gisla stayed very still and did not answer after hearing these words. Perhaps he had made her too jealous.

She must have realized how apparent she was making her feelings towards him and began to speak again, "Let us see, now where were we?"

"You were telling me that you liked my beard."

"I never said that I liked it, but what else is there to your face?" She said as she began to move her hand again, "You have a nice nose, but it does not feel very Frankish."

"Do the Franks have a certain kind of nose?"

She considered this for a moment, "Yes, I suppose we do, and you do not have it. Was your mother not Frankish?"

"No she was not."

"Ah," Gisla said and then continued to trace his features, "you have nice eyebrows and very good forehead too."

"Do you think me handsome?" Rollo asked, pleased that she could feel him wiggling his eyebrows in jest.

"You are very conceited." She laughed.

"And you are not answering my question."

"Yes, I think you are handsome," She admitted, "but what are these?" She asked as her hand drifted over the lines that marred his face.

"They are scars." He answered her.

"Oh, it that why you wish for there to be no light? They do not feel very deep."

"They are not deep, or very apparent I think."

"So they are not red or too discolored."

"No, I think they can only be seen in strong sunlight or if someone is very close to me."

She thoughtfully traced, and retraced the scars on his and he began to worry that she was disgusted by them. She then spoke again.

"What color are your eyes?" She asked.

"Hmm, I do not know very well, not blue."

"How do you know that they are not blue?"

"Because I have often been told that I do not have my brother's eyes. And his are blue"

"Are you compared to your brother often?"

"Yes, for most of my life I have been. But recently that has not been the case."

"Who is your brother? Do I know him?"

Rollo did his best to suppress a laugh, "I believe you have crossed paths once, and I do not think you cared for him very much."

Gisla grew very quiet again as if she were deep in thought about something. They did not speak for a long while and Rollo moved to pull her closer. "Sleep Gisla, it is very late."

"I am not tired." She said through a yawn.

"I think you are." He said tugging her closer.

"No I am not," she insisted, "I have been resting all day."

"How was your day? Did you have much pain?"

"No I did not have much pain. I think my time is almost over. My husband came to see me today, which I do not know what to make of that."

"What do you think he wanted with you?"

"He brought me food and expected me to eat with him."

"That seems like a small thing for a husband to want from his wife."

"Yes it is a small thing, but I still did not care for it very much."

Rollo felt his warrior spirit stir inside him, was she really this stubborn. "Oh, and why is that?"

"Well it is just– It is because– Oh, I do not know it is hard to explain." Gisla said in a distant voice.

"Because you are still afraid of him." Rollo said trying to hold back the anger that was growing inside him.

"No, I am not afraid of him any longer. I am just…unsure about his character."

Anger faded from Rollo. Perhaps he was making progress after all. Happiness replaced his wrath as she continued to speak.

"He has visited me before. Did you know that? He came to me the first day I stayed in bed. For all his faults I do not think he wishes for me to be ill."

"Does his concern mean anything to you?"

"I suppose it does. Though it is odd, he has never seemed very worried about me before."

A smile crossed Rollo's lips, "I do not think that is true."

"How would you know a thing like that?" Gisla asked sounding slightly offended.

"Because he did not seem pleased when saw you crying at the wedding, and he did not force himself upon you after the marriage. That shows a certain amount of concern, does it not?"

"Yes I suppose it does." Gisla said in a far of voice as if she had just had a very deep or profound thought.

Historical Note: "Why does Rollo not know what he looks like?" Most people did know what they looked like back in this time. There were no photographs of course and mirrors were both expensive and hard to come by.

Author's Note: Please review, we are coming very close to the end of the story and if you have any thoughts please let me know them :)