Holy October, Batman! How the heck did a month pass with out me writing ANYTHING for ANY OF MY STORIES! Well let me tell you, it stared with me finally getting a job (YAY WALMART!) and trying to get used to that, my sister having the baby (HE'S SO CUTE!) and well, Halloween which shouldn't be a big deal considering I'm 22, but it is. SHUT UP YOU DON'T KNOW ME! Add all that to one of the worst cases of writer's block ever and you get a month of nothin'. so here's a new chapter, not edited cuz I'm too lazy. I was originally gonna write the wedding and the wedding night (if you know what I mean) all in one chapter, but then Rollo and Lifa demanded that they have some fun too and this happened. I'm not sure what exactly the next chapter will be like, but hopefully you won't have to wait as long.
Again, sorry for the long wait and the short chapter, but better than nothing right? Right? Hello? Anybody...
Temperance had never been so grateful for whatever deity (whether her own or one of the so-called gods these barbarians worshipped) blessed her with Lifa as a guide through this unknown world. Lord only knew what would become of her otherwise. As it was, the blonde sat with her, her mere presence radiating a calm sort of command that Temperance had never seen in a woman before. Even the female nobility back in her homeland didn't have the power to strike fear in the servants. Or slaves, as she quickly learned they were here. Yet here was a woman almost smaller than herself giving orders left and right without batting an eye and watching like a general surveying his troops as the slaves scurried about the room.
Temperance didn't have the strength to look at the slaves as they worked, keeping her head bowed over her folded hands. She recognized too much of herself in them. If it hadn't been for Ragnar taking a liking to her, she would have been one of them. That thought alone settled uneasily in her stomach causing her to shift nervously in her admittedly plush seat. Lifa noticed, naturally. The blonde continually glanced her way but refrained from commenting. Gratitude rushed through her once more followed by a small amount of guilt. From what little she'd seen, Temperance knew Lifa could be just as dangerous, if not more so than the men who had murdered the entire population surrounding her home. She was one of them, could have easily joined her fellows in the slaughter. And yet Temperance felt at ease, safe in her presence. It was a betrayal to her father's memory, she was sure.
As the last of the slaves filed out of the room Lifa stood, smoothing out the dress she had worn for the occasion. Temperance still could not bring herself to think of it as her own wedding. She was not fool enough to believe any of her traditions would be included and being married without God's presence hardly felt like a marriage at all. Still, she allowed Lifa to take her hand and lead her to the bath near the fire. There really wasn't any other choice. She was too weak (and not just physically) to fight these people. If they wished for her to rule them, they would have to grow used to a silent queen.
She practiced said silence as Lifa assisted her in her bath. The blonde chatted as she worked the brown curls clean, explaining what she was to expect during the wedding ceremony and what Ragnar would expect of her later in their bed chambers. Temperance blocked out as much as possible. Anymore and she was sure she would collapse once more in fear and anxiety. Lifa either ignored her jiggering or didn't notice as she finished washing the Englishwoman's hair and motioned for Temperance to step out. She was promptly dressed into a fine gown made from heavy fabric she didn't recognize and fur was draped over shoulders. The clothing was startling alien compared to the lighter fabrics of her home and only emphasized how much she truly did not belong.
Lifa quickly finished styling her hair, braiding it so it fell away from her face and down her back. There would be no hiding behind the thick tresses tonight. Jewels far more beautiful than anything she had ever beheld were strung around her neck but otherwise she was without decoration. Lifa forced her to stand and the blonde circled her like a vulture, inspecting her handiwork with a satisfied expression.
"You're ready," broke the silence as Lifa took her elbow and forcibly guided her toward the door. There would be no stalling. No running away. This was her life now.
Admittedly, Lifa felt a small amount of guilt as she abandoned the visibly shaking Englishwoman as they stepped back into the main hall. It was obvious she was trying to put on an emotionless mask, and was failing spectacularly. There was little the blonde could do, however. Temperance had to learn to take care of herself if she wished to survive here. So instead of coddling her and shielding her from the rougher of the men like she would a small child, Lifa slipped into her place between her brother and Rollo, accepting the horn of mead Floki pressed into her hand.
Weddings were never one of her favorite occasions. She could admit as much as any man that they were good fun, and a fairly joyous affair. They were necessary and not altogether dreadful. She didn't mind attending when the two joining were as close to her as this particular couple was. However, that hardly made up for the fact that they were long and arduous, and filled with unnecessary traditions. Her attention during one of her closest friend's wedding therefore could be excused. At least to herself. It helped that the brother of said friend was just as distracted, shifting beside her and sighing in irritation often.
Lifa playfully nudged him with her elbow to gain his attention and when his eyes found hers she wrinkled her nose, darting a glance at the couple standing with the Priestess. Rollo's lips twitched in suppressed amusement but he steadfastly kept a blank face as he rolled his eyes and turned back to pretending attention. Lifa pursed her lips in response, earning a chuckle from her brother whom she hadn't realized had seen the small exchange. She glanced quickly at him to be sure he wasn't going to say anything. He grinned and nudged her toward the large mountain of warrior beside her before turning his attention back to where it was supposed to be. She grinned slyly, waiting until she was certain no one would notice their absence.
What exactly she planned on doing once they escaped she didn't know, but she knew she didn't want to spend her first night home watching her pseudo brother marry a woman he captured during a raid. That was the farthest thing from enjoyable she could imagine. From the frown on his face, Rollo felt the same. They had both been suffering from Ragnar's stupidity for too long for one night. It was time for a change.
Circling her fingers around his larger ones she waited until he looked back at her, eyebrows raised in question. She answer was to smile widely, almost manically, and hold up the flagon of mead her brother had stealthily passed to her a moment before. She nodded to the side door where there were the fewest people. He looked from the door to her and an unreadable expression darkened his eyes. She tilted her head curiously, but before she could question him, he was pulling her through the crowd, no one bothering to pay them any mind as they slipped out the door and into the chilly night air.