Chapter 19
"Rollo are you paying attention," Abbot Lupus asked, tearing Rollo away from his daydream.
Rollo shook his head like a horse trying to get rid of a bothersome fly, "Yes," he answered hastily, and upon receiving a stern look from Lupus corrected himself, "No."
"I was showing you where your lands are on this map, do you recall how a map is used."
Rollo nodded, "Yes it is a picture of the world the way I would see it if I were a bird up in the sky." Rollo remembered the first time Lupus had explained this to him well. He had been amazed at how clever the Christians could be when it came to such things.
"My lands extend from here," he pointed pointed to the mouth of the river that ran through Paris, "to here." He placed his finger half way between the large bay.
Lupus nodded with enthusiasm, "So you have been paying attention to me after all."
Rollo was taken aback, "Of course I have been paying attention. You are a very learned man with much knowledge to share."
The abbot gave him a smile, "I know you have been, you are a good pupil. I was only joking."
Rollo felt filled with relief, after all, the time he had spent with Lupus he was glad he held him in high regard. Especially considering the turbulent beginning to their friendship.
"I do have to wonder, though, what is preoccupying your thoughts this morning?"
Rollo felt a guilty expression cover his face and knew he was acting as bashful as a boy just barely in his youth. "Gisla," he answered softly.
Lupus' face remained expressionless, "And has something changed between the two of you?"
Rollo opened his mouth and then stopped, unsure of how to answer or what to share.
"Forgive me," Lupus said, "there has been some idle gossip about the two of you and I had only wondered."
"She has warmed to me slightly, and likes me more I think," Rollo answered enigmatically, not wanting to reveal too much.
"And is there some hope she has grown to like you well enough to remain married to you?"
"I do not know. Why?"
The abbot let out a sigh, "I have delayed telling you in order not to worry you, but I have received word that the Cardinal will arrive any day now. The messenger seemed certain that the Cardinal would be willing to grant Gisla the divorce this time."
"Adelaide leave one of the candles lit tonight," Gisla instructed her servant.
"As you wish my lady," the servant said as she began to snuff the candles.
"No leave that one," Gisla said suddenly, "Snuff the ones on the candelabra but leave the one in the candlestick holder. I wish to be able to move with the light."
The servant gave her a questioning look but did as she was instructed. Gisla waited until the last of the servants were well out of the room before she got out of bed.
She picked up the candle and walked over to her balcony. Gisla took her time drawing all the curtains that divided her balcony from the room, making sure there was not crack from which light could escape. She would wait here until she heard noise from within the room. She gave herself a smug smile as she thought of the satisfaction she would feel when she stepped out from behind the curtain and the identity of the stranger was revealed to her. And for some reason, she didn't understand she could not picture anyone else, but Rollo being revealed in the candlelight.
As Rollo climbed onto the balcony again he was surprised to see a light cutting through the darkness. At first, he thought Gisla had left a candle lit again, but it was much too bright to be coming from inside her room. Hesitantly, he peaked onto the balcony from the tree.
To his surprise, he saw Gisla standing there. She was holding a single candle, and cupping her free hand around it as if she wanted to prevent it from giving off too much light. When Rollo saw that the curtains were drawn he realized what she was doing.
He had wondered how long it would take for her curiosity to get the better of her, but after all this time he was surprised that she did not know he came and went this way.
Her back was to him, and it did not take long for him to come up with a plan. He leaped onto the balcony landing as loudly as he could. As he predicted she first jumped with fright before turning to see what had happened. He was already thinking ahead of her, though. And as she turned he did as well so that he was now behind her without her seeing.
He tapped her on the right shoulder and as she whipped around to see who was there, he dodged left and was able to blow out the candle before she realized what was going on. Fearing that she still might be able to see him with the light of the half moon, he drew her into his arms and pulled her back behind the curtains.
He was now filled with the same passion that came from going into battle. An almost animalistic lust to take and dominate. And he spun her around and kissed her soundly on the lips.
Gisla's chest heaved with a mixture of pleasure and fear. Try as she might, she could not recall the events that led to her candle being snuffed and her being kissed.
It was both terrifying and exhilarating to have so completely lost control of the situation.
"Who are you," she asked, panting from the suddenness of the kiss.
A laugh echoed through the room, "I have told you, again and again, you must be the one to guess."
"Why should I listen to the demands of someone who sneaks around like a thief in the night?"
"Do not call me a thief I have never stolen anything from you," he teased.
"That is not true," Gisla said beginning to feel cross.
"No it is true, I have never taken anything of yours."
Gisla searched her mind to think of a way he was lying to her. Try as she might she could think of no correction she could make.
"Do you wish to be right," he suddenly asked her.
Before she could respond she felt his lips against her own, pressing down in a firm kiss.
"There," he said, "now you are right. I have stolen a kiss from you."
"How dare you," she whispered, but somehow she could not find a way to become as angry as she wanted to be for his actions.
"What? I thought you wanted to be right."
"You didn't give me a chance to answer."
"Are you angry?"
"Yes." But she knew that was not the emotion she was feeling at all.
"Then steal it back, and we will be even."
Gisla's first instinct was to refuse, but she could not help that she wanted to kiss him again.
She stepped towards him but realized she was too short to steal anything from him. As if reading her mind, he picked her up off of the floor and held him level with himself. And she leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on his lips.
He set her back down on the floor, and said, "There, now we are even."
Gisla was annoyed at how satisfied he sounded, for she did not feel satisfied at all. She could not escape the feeling that there was something she was missing out on. Something she wanted to do with him, but even she herself did not know what. All she knew was that she would not be satisfied until it happened.
"Please," she whispered.
"What," he replied, and she could feel him moving in for another kiss.
She pulled away, "Please, tell me. Is there something more than kissing? I feel… I fell as if there is and I want it."
A small sound escaped him, a sigh or perhaps a groan. And his hands fell away from her, and she worried she had offended him.
"There is," he finally answered her, "but it is what your father is displeased at you for not doing with you husband."
"Oh," Gisla said feeling naïve. She did not know how she could not have thought about that. She only wished to be closer to him, and did not realize that that is what it would mean. All of her knowledge of what happened between a man and a woman was so abstract that it did not seem like it could have anything to do with the moments she shared with this man.
She felt him step closer to her and take both her hands. "But we could if you so wished."
"Would it not be wrong," she questioned.
"Do you love me," he asked without hesitation.
"Yes."
"Then that is better than being married. If you love me it is not wrong."
"Are you certain?"
"Gisla, I promise you that it is not wrong, and no one would be displeased if they discovered it."
He sounded so assured with himself that Gisla could not disbelieve him even if she tried. She did love him.
"Very well," Gisla said.
"Then you wish to continue?"
"I do."
He leaned down to kiss her again, but she stopped him before he could go further.
"Wait, there is something you must know," she said with a slight panic rising in her voice.
"What," Rollo asked, ceasing all motions as he waited for her to tell him.
"I do not- No, I have not- I have never…" Her words trailed off before she could finish, but Rollo guessed what she was going to say.
"You have never done this before?"
She hesitated for a moment and then answered, "Yes."
"And you have no idea what happens now, do you?"
"On the morning I was wed to Rollo the older women in my service told me to stay very quiet and to stay as still as I could when it happened to dissuade him from beating me. That is all I know."
Rollo reached out and clasped her hand in the darkness. He no longer wondered why she had wept through the whole of the wedding. Or why she had to be dragged into the bedchambers afterward.
"That is not true," he spoke with passion.
"What," she asked, confused by his sudden anger.
Rollo paused for a moment to think. He was not sure if when he spoke he was intending to tell her that he would have never beaten her or to correct the advice she had been given.
"It is not true what they told you," he said more calmly. "You don't need to keep still or quiet during this time. Not as long as you are with me."
"But I don't know-"
"Shh, I know, but it is not complicated. Just follow my lead. You will do well enough."
'You will do well enough.' Gisla liked the way he said those words. Because the way he said them did not make her feel like he found her merely adequate. The way he said it instead made her feel like he wanted to be here with her, and only with her. The circumstances did not matter to him.
"And you do not mind," she asked, wanting to be certain of his thoughts.
He let out a good-natured laugh, "No, I do not mind."
"Good," Gisla answered.
She was pleased that she would not have to be his inferior, that she would not have to be ashamed or afraid because of her lack of knowledge. She had avoided of the thought of such a night all of her life, only having a vague sense of awareness that this would be the night she could no longer escape the fact that she was a woman. She would have to submit to some man who was now her husband and soon become little more than the mother of his children.
And then when she had been told of her marriage to Rollo all these thoughts had been replaced by fear of when he claimed his marital rights and she would be at the mercy of the barbaric foreigner.
But tonight it would not be the way she had imagined it; she would come to bed as an equal.
He took her hand and tugged her towards the bed and willingly she followed.
He stopped before they got in the bed and spun her around so that she ended up with his arms draped around her waist. She instinctively wrapped her arms around him and let her head fall against his chest. With thrilling excitement as she began to feel his hands wander along her sides and back. She remembered what he had told her and began to move her hands from where they rested, tentatively feeling the taught muscles of his back through his thin shirt.
His hand drifted up to rest under her chin, and he angled her face up and began to kiss her again. With a jolt of new sensation Gisla felt him slowly press his tongue into her mouth. He had never kissed her like this before, and she wondered if he was an angel for his tongue seemed to burn with every movement as if it was made of fire. With slow, determined motions Gisla tried to replicate the movements he made with his mouth. And for a brief moment, she felt like she could feel him smile to himself as she did so.
The kiss broke and there was a lull in the interaction that Gisla did not like. She rose up on her toes and kissed him this time. A low moan escaped him and Gisla was pleased. She felt like she was doing well.
His hands began to move again, this time, taking more liberties. Moving up to her shoulders and then back down to the swell of her hips. He knelt down and Gisla could feel him gathering the hem of her nightdress. She could feel him pulling it up and off of her. In a hazy excitement, she now realized she was standing naked before him, and she did not mind. She trusted him. She knew he loved her.
He kissed her again, but his lips did not linger long. And he began to move his mouth along her jawline, down her neck, and across her collar bone. Until finally his face rested between her two breasts. She was glad it was dark for she was sure she was flushed crimson as she felt him linger there.
She felt his mouth move to the tip of her breast and she gave an involuntary shudder. He began to suckle like a babe and Gisla wondered what sweet torment she had gotten herself into. As if sensing her restlessness he moved again. This time picking her up from where she stood and carrying her to the bed as a man carries his new bride.
He placed her among the pillows and drew back. Soon Gisla could hear the distinctive sound of clothes hitting the floor.
Rollo climbed into the bed and moved towards her. He reminded himself to go slowly and to ease her into her first time. He was burning for her but tried to remember to let her set the pace. He knew she was placing great trust in him and he would not fail her.
He moved alongside her and was pleased with the sensation of skin touching skin. He smoothed his hand down her side, enjoying the rise and fall of her curves. He paused for a moment as she did the same to him, taking pleasure in the sensation of her hand running along his ribs down to his waist.
There was an uncertainty in her touch, almost as if she was afraid that if she pressed too hard she would harm him. He found unexpected pleasure in this. She was so inexperienced, and yet she wanted to please him. He did not correct her touches. He did not move to encourage her onward, or for more. He wanted her as she was tonight. Her innocence and uncertainty were his to savor.
There would be other nights when she would be bold and brash in bed. And practice all the tricks women knew that drove men wild with want. He would be there for that night and all the nights in between. But for now, he would take her for who she was.
He kissed her passionately and enjoyed the feeling of her opening her mouth to accommodate him. He moved his hand to cup her breast and felt her go rigid. He wondered if he should withdraw and ask her permission. But soon was reassured by the feeling of her hand moving to the tip of his shoulder. She had taken his instructions to follow his lead quite seriously, and seemed to want to replicate each of his actions in some way of her own.
He returned to kissing her again. This time scattering his kisses all along her face and neck. As he began to move his hand again he was pleased to feel that every brush and movement he made was replicated on his shoulder and back. And he did not know how he would endure the day she began to have ideas of her own when it came to how she touched him, for he could barely control himself now.
He moved his hand over her torso and down her leg. Trailing his touches over to her inner thigh and up. She parted her legs for him, and when his hand came to the junction between her legs he could feel that she was ready for him.
Rising slightly, he moved so that he was kneeling between her legs. He leaned over her and began to kiss along her collarbone and up her neck. And murmured the words, 'my Gisla' before kissing her on the lips.
Without breaking the kiss, he positioned himself at her entrance and began to press his way inside of her. When he had gone as far as he could he shuddered with the sensation of being fully one with her.
His pleasure was broken however when she let out a gasp of pain beneath him. And he became angered over his own stupidity. How could he have forgotten that she might feel pain the first time he took her? He instantly regretted not preparing her more or warning her about what was to come.
Troubled by how still she was staying he began to speak. "Is the pain too much," he asked as he prepared to withdraw and try again on a different night.
"No," she answered.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, it was just a quick pinch. It is over now I think. You may…continue if you wish."
He did wish, and he rolled his hips in a slow and steady motion to see what her reaction would be. She gave no signs of displeasure. He waited a moment and tried again. This time, she let out a tiny gasp, and he feared he might have hurt her. But when he stilled she gave a little thrust of her own hips and he understood.
No longer fearing he had harmed her he began to move at a pace he was more accustom to. Enjoying all her little gasps and sighs as he made love to her. She was so warm and young, and best of all entirely his. He felt his own pleasure grow inside him until the point he felt like he might burst into flames with raw lust and passion. He felt her quiver beneath him in pleasure and the last of his fortitude was gone.
He called out her name as he found his own release. And in that moment he wondered how Sköll could ever swallow the sun. The wolf may be able to chase, but when he came too close he would surely be consumed by the flames, and burned up in passion. For one could not get so close to a thing so bright without being changed.
After a moment he pulled away from her and curled himself around her. She moved so that each of her limbs was melded to his, and they rested at peace. His hand traced gentle, repetitive lines up and down her arm as he held her, and he murmured in her ear, "Are you happy?"
Gisla smiled to herself, "Very."
"And you weren't afraid?"
"Not for a moment."
"Good," he said and pressed a tender kiss to the back of her neck.
Gisla embraced the warmth of his arms and began to fall into a gentle sleep. A sudden jolt of consciousness ran through her when she remembered that she had forgotten to guess his name. She was no longer so sure that it was Rollo. The stranger had referred to him as her husband this very night. She could not understand why he would do that if they were one in the same.
And he had told her that being them love made them as good a married, instead of telling her that they were married. In some ways, she was glad that she had not guessed. She would have made herself into a fool if she did. But then again she remembered how moments ago when he had found pleasure in her he had called out her name, and she resented that she did not know his name. For she wished to call it back to him when he called hers.
Restlessly she tried to return to sleep, but could not find a way. The desire to know his identity filled her up too much. She waited until she was sure he was asleep and moved away from him. She searched her bedside table for a candle determined to light it. She groped along in the dark until she found a stone and flint and began to strike the two together. Her motions were fumbling and uncertain as she tried to get the candle to light. She had never done it before and soon realized she was not able to get the candle to take flame. In defeat she crawled back under the covers, she would have to find another way to discover who he was.
Author's Note: Remember this story is only inspired by Psyche and Eros, I had a few reviewers who were worried. Also, I stole the phrase, "my Gisla" from Zoesong's story "The Princess and the Bear". It is not my fault that story is the source of most of my head canons.
Reviews are always welcome.
