Chapter Two - The Oncoming Storm

A few weeks had passed by and Gudrun was still adapting. She had not received many questions, and she was glad of it. The people of Kattegat didn't care much about her, since she was a slave. Still, she couldn't help but feel more and more alone. Her master Rollo was almost never there, doing secret things with his brother and Floki, a friend of Ragnar, hunting, or just not spending time at his home. He just came back in the evenings to eat, sleep, and he left early in the morning. On her side, she mostly did the homing chores and when she was done, she looked at the sea. She sometimes went to the beach when Rollo couldn't know (which means very often), and she tried not to be seen by others. To keep this privilege, she had to make them believe she was an obedient slave.

One of the only things to cheer her up was that the innkeeper, the man who had abused her, was dead. Sometimes she wished she had killed him herself, but she remembered well her father's saying, and was decided to keep living by it: "You're stronger when you don't kill."

But still she regretted sourly not having done what she had dreaded for weeks.

This day, she had finished her chores a lot earlier than before, because she had felt the need to go to the beach earlier. She didn't know why, but she wanted to feel the fresh wind on her face, to smell this life coming from this eternity of salted water.

She quickly closed the door and walked fast to the shore. Ravens were flying above her, but somehow she did not dislike them. They were birds after all, and they were not like vultures. Not always wishing you dead so they can eat your remaining flesh, then leave you ungraciously mutilated before leaving forever. Somehow, they reminded her of the Englishmen who had had her imprisoned.

She went down a hidden path to go to a small creek, where no one would see her. It was forbidden that slaves went alone somewhere, except to the market where they could obviously what was necessary for eating.

She sat on a high white stone, her usual spot. She closed her eyes and let the wind infiltrate in her neck, underneath her clothes, in her chest. She breathed slowly and evenly, feeling appeased. She knew things were not going to stay this calm so she enjoyed what she had now.

Suddenly, she was startled by a creak. She spun around to discover Björn, Ragnar's son. He didn't make any move, he was waiting for a sign from her. She just kept staring at him wide-eyed, scared for what was going to happen to her if he told this to someone.

"I won't tell!" he said.

She didn't answer yet. He had spoken in his own language, and she had gotten used to it very quickly. She already spoke well enough to know a bit more than the basics. Apparently, she was good at learning.

"I promise." said Björn again.

"Thank you." she blew out silently.

To her surprise, he came to sit next to her, getting lost too in the sea. They didn't speak, they just mutually enjoyed the nature around them and the late afternoon calm. Gudrun was the first to break the peaceful silence.

"Does your father know I come here?" she asked anxiously.

Björn chuckled.

"Of course he knows. He's smart."

Gudrun swallowed hardly.

"And... What does he think about it?"

"He doesn't care. He thinks you're a good slave, so you can sometimes have some rest." Björn said.

"And your uncle? Does he know?"

"I don't know... I don't think he does."

She sat back on her rock, half reassured. At least, there was an adult Viking who knew she had broken the law and who tolerated it. But it was already enough. Some others wouldn't be so kind, and she thought of Rollo. She practically never saw him, and she wondered how he would react. She opted for badly.

"I have to go." said Björn.

He stood up and began to leave.

"Thank you, Björn..." said Gudrun.

He nodded sharply and disappeared in the bushes. Though his visit had been rather nice and comforting, she preferred not to stay longer. She quickly followed the same way and left too.

She walked back to the house, and noticed the ravens weren't in the sky any more. The evening was falling quickly, she had to be there before Rollo... Hoping he wasn't already there. She began running, seriously beginning to be anxious as the night fell...

She saw the house and quickly slipped in, hoping no one had seen her. Suddenly, a deep voice startled her.

"Where were you?"

It was Rollo. He was sitting at the table with a big dead deer bleeding everywhere. Gudrun's throat felt like it was paralysed and she hardly uttered a few words.

"I was... outside..."

Rollo didn't need to answer to frighten her. He shot her a dark look which meant he would not tolerate being played.

"I was at the shore." she said, her voice very little.

"You know you had no right." he answered.

"I know." she didn't look at him.

"I don't want to be one of those masters who have to stay all the time with their slave to ensure they don't run away!" he began to shout. "How long have you been lying to me?"

She said nothing, not daring to drown herself even more.

"Three... Three weeks..."

Rollo sprung from his chair, looking astonished.

"Three! And I who thought I was a fool... Giving you too much freedom..."

"I have not ran away!" she screamed back, trying to plead her cause.

He came to her level, dominating her from his height, and caught her jaw in his hand.

"And if you did..."

He didn't need to end his threat, she knew as well as him what would happen.

"You don't have to shout or be a brute for me to obey you! Remember, I am the slave! You don't need to remind me of this so please, leave me alone!" she shouted back.

He let her go and she got herself against the wall, foolishly protecting herself from him. He simply got to his room and said:

"It's late. Time to sleep."

When Rollo woke up, Gudrun was already doing her chores. He had to admit she was a good slave. But not really made for that... The conversation he had had with the seer was very disturbing. Apparently, Gudrun was the daughter of woman named Hilda who loved there a long time ago. She was chased from Kattegat by her husband because she had been pregnant, and not by him. She was forever scarred since he had stabbed her in the eye. Rollo didn't know she went as far as England, but apparently some man was kind enough to marry her and make her happy.

Still, he didn't know if he had to give her freedom to Gudrun. First of all, she was a good slave. She did the housework well, and didn't complain much. Well... Of course she didn't complain much. She had to. Secondly, she was a virgin and then was rather expensive on the market. But Rollo wasn't some dealer or seller, he didn't care of how much money he could get by selling something or someone. He wanted to get riches while raiding, that was all. Lastly, he liked her. He thought it was silly but he excused it by thinking she had Viking blood. He liked to look at her, to hear her voice... But he knew he wouldn't like to see her go.

He went to her at the first place, and put a large hand on her shoulder. She spun around stressfully.

"You can go to the shore if you want to."

She looked at him with bright eyes.

"Thank you!"

He almost smiled at her warm grin. But he couldn't help but feel bad. She was not really a slave, but her freedom would be disregarded by many. He decided to wait to give it to her. He would find a honourable way to do so.

Before she went out, he took in her look one last time. He liked her dark raven hair, and he wondered why it was only shoulder short. He would ask her later. Before that, he had to find Ragnar. Then go hunting.

Gudrun felt very light. She had finally been authorised to go to that place she loved. She smiled at the idea of Björn, who had actually been nice to her and had not told anything. She also thought of Ragnar. There was more than met the eye at him, he was a mysterious man full of surprises.

Before going to the shore, she had one last task to do. She went at the limit of the forest to collect some wood, and if possible she didn't want to go too far in it, since she knew many Vikings had things to do there too. She didn't want to cross paths with one with bad intentions.

She picked some thin branches and some heavier logs that burnt better. The ferns were still wet from the night rain, so she tried to pick some wood that was under trees, for it to be drier. Suddenly, she became alert. She had heard a noise somewhere near her and stayed on her guards.

She spotted a lot of branches under a large tree so she went for them. Unfortunately, at that peculiar moment, a tall man sprang from behind the tree.

"Come here..." she understood.

She panicked and tried to run away, but he was quicker than her. He caught her by the hair and she fell down. He blocked her by pinning her arms above her head, his strong hands hurting her wrists.

"Leave me..." she pleaded.

"Shut up, you dirty slave!"

He hit her jaw with his free hand and harshly stroked her pained flesh. He ripped a part of her clothing away and hardly pinched the skin of her bare thighs. She screamed then he put his hand on her mouth again. Only muffled sounds came from it now.

He had come to brutally straddling her, choking all of her escape attempts. He began unlacing her top when she bit his arm.

"You bitch!" he began to say.

He was about to strike her when someone stabbed him faster than he could even think. Gudrun had not seen her saviour at first, too concentrated on her aggressor. She felt the man retire his dagger from the flesh, wiping the blood on his thigh.

"Get up." he said, by grabbing her by the arm.

She was instantly lifted by his strength. She opened her eyes wide when she discovered that it was Rollo who actually stabbed the man. She blushed and wriggled her arm out of his grasp.

"Thank you." she murmured.

She tried to hide her thighs from his sight by ridiculously pushing bits of ripped fabric in front of them. She knew at any time he could do what he wanted to her, and she sometimes was afraid he would do like this man. Yet, he hadn't tried anything. She thanked God inwardly and awkwardly looked back at him. He was staring.

"Take this." he said by taking the man's breeches away. "You'll be sick."

She didn't reply but quickly slipped in them. They were too big but she didn't care. It was effectively cold in the shade of the forest, and Rollo quickly led her out. He wasn't shivering like she did, he seemed to handle cold much better. He didn't even wear a shirt.

"How come you found me?" she asked neutrally.

"I was getting the wood. Thought you had something else to do." he said, not looking at her.

"Oh."

When they reached Kattegat and got back into the house, Rollo handed her a few covers.

"Put the logs in the fire and take this. Nights are becoming cold."

Then he left, leaving her asking herself a thousand of questions. Why was he suddenly so nice? If Vikings could be nice. It was just being a little bit more human, but she didn't care. In her position, anything better was good to take. She suddenly felt more like a servant than like a slave.

She settled her stuff where she slept then got outside quickly to get the wood in the fireplace. She found Rollo sitting on a log, carving out a spike from a branch she had found. She saw he had already done many, and all were planted in the soil.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

He planted the one he had just finished with the others, and got up. It always amazed her by how he could suddenly seem so tall by only normally standing up. He looked down at her and she almost saw his lips twitch in a smile.

"Stuff."

He planted his knife on the wooden wall besides him and pointed it to her.

"You can make some if you're bored too."

So he was bored. What a nice thing to be.

"I'm not bored."

"Want more chores?"

"I'll go with the carving." she gruffly replied.

She hardly took the knife out and began carving clumsy spikes at the end of each branch. She knew it was bad, but it was actually relaxing. Rollo was watching her with amusement. He wondered what she would do with a sword.

He leaned against the door frame and keenly observed the muscles of her back and arms clench as she made the spikes. She was just muscular enough. He remembered her thighs and had to confess he had also wanted to grasp them brutally, then to ride her roughly. But he knew he had no right. She was lawfully a Viking of their tribe, since her blood was Norse.

He knew that that man wouldn't be the last one to try to abuse her. He didn't want other men to touch her, he didn't want her to be hurt. He decided he would free her the next day. He had to go to the Earl Haraldsson and explain to him that she was a rightful Viking. Then, maybe he would free her.

He went back inside, fearing he would do something wrong if he watched her too long. Instead, he sharpened his dagger, still a little bloody. He hoped he would use it again, because stabbing a bad man was something he honestly enjoyed.

Gudrun found it strange that Rollo acted this way to her. She was a slave! Not one of theirs! Of course, she was still treated worse, but it was disturbing.

She hated herself for her actual thoughts, but she now found Rollo utterly beautiful. She had sworn to herself that she had never seen something more appealing than him being half covered in the blood of her aggressor that had just spilled on him. She had almost squealed with embarrassment when she saw he hadn't even bothered to wear a shirt to get into the dark forest almost at night. When it was freezing cold.

She looked at the sky. Night was falling quickly, and the impression of being crushed by the darkness was amplified by the gloomy clouds hanging above her head. She suddenly felt no more safe outside, though she marvelled being able to be out. That storm was frightening, and she knew she would not sleep of the night. She stopped carving the wood, and planted her branch next to Rollo's. It was ugly and twisted but she couldn't help but feel proud. It wasn't so bad.

She closed the door and looked outside. With a loud rumbling noise, the clouds announced their oncoming tears. And just as she had predicted, the rain began falling.

"Donnar." said Rollo, smirking.

"Who... Who is that?" she asked uncertainly.

Rollo sighed, visibly annoyed by her lack of understanding.

"He's called Thor, in your tongue."

"Oh... So he's the god of thunder, right?"

"Yes. And he is angry."

"Or happy."

He frowned at her without much conviction and went to his room.

"Don't wake me up." he said gruffly before closing his door.

She went in her own spot near the fireplace, curling in a ball and covering herself with the covers he had given to her. They were warm and made of fur, so it tickled her nose when she breathed. As every night, to fall asleep, she watched the flames of the fire lick their stone prison. They were bright and red, and if she had no sense at all, she would gladly drown herself in them.

And slowly, she drifted to sleep.

[A/N:I hope this was good. I'd like to thank Clara Wright for the nice review, as well as PalomaD for the follow. It's nice to have support!
I actually though this would get no feedback at all but I'm glad it seems to be working!

If you have any suggestions or constructive criticism, don't hesitate!

And as always, a review would make me the happiest person in the world!]