I just wanted to thank those of you who were kind enough to send me ideas for what you want to see. They were all great and did help...to some extent. Unfortunately, I've seemed to be re-sucked into a couple other fandoms that are giving me plot bunnies. I don't know if their anything that can grow into full-fledged stories one day, but they're very loud and obnoxious and refuse to quiet down long enough to focus on the stories I've got going already. I don't plan on starting anything new at the moment, but consider this a head's up if you see me posting a new story. (and please don't get angry at me)
Also, I am now officially moving back to California at the end of the year, cuz my life just isn't hectic enough. Which means scrambling to get as much of my stuff shipped out beforehand, scraping together money for a plane ticket, yet another job hunt, and all that nonsense all over again. At least this time I'm moving to a place where I actually know people and know the area so that should make it a little easier.
Anyway, that was probably more than you needed to know. The point is, I once again probably won't have a lot of time for writing. I'll try to squeeze it in as much as possible, but it'll be difficult. Try to hold on there for as long as possible. Again, thank you for everyone supporting my writing. You are all fantastic and if I could I'd give you all hugs. Please enjoy this shiny (and unedited, as usual) new chapter!
Temperance remembered her lessons as child with no small amount of disdain. It wasn't the subject matter itself that she loathed but rather the way it was taught. She was forced into a stuffy, windowless - so she wouldn't get distracted, her governess had said - room adjacent to the silent library and ordered to read through giant dusty tomes. When she was tested on what she had read at the end of each day, she hardly ever recalled the material, resulting in a scolding and more reading as punishment. Her teachers all agreed that she simply lacked discipline. Truth was, they lacked the ability to keep her entertained. Perhaps if Lifa had been there Temperance would have been more successful. Never before had she been so entertained. It almost didn't feel like she was learning at all.
The two women spent the morning and a good part of the afternoon wandering the town that was now to be Temperance's home, only pausing at an inn to acquire some lunch before setting off again. While the strolled, Temperance would ask what certain words were in Norse (as she learned these people were called) or Lifa would point at something, an object or person, they passed and translate it for her. All in all, it was a good way to simultaneously learn the language and get used to the people while they got used to her. More often than not, she found herself laughing until tears gathered in her eyes with townsfolk looking on fondly. She was more than positive most of that was directed towards Lifa, but it still felt nice not to have any scorn thrown at her for being loud or "unladylike". When she voiced this, Lifa assured her no Norse would ever care about being ladylike or anything her English upbringing had forced her to be. Here she was free to be whomever she wished, so long as she was strong and refused to bow beneath someone else's belief of who she was. She had to show them who she was and never allow them to see a weakness. In time, the people would love her just as they loved Ragnar, Lifa, and the others.
A part of her still doubted she would be anything but a foreigner to them, but she was willing to listen to Lifa, to learn from her and try. She found herself actually wanting to be a part of these people, if only a little. They all seemed happy and free compared to her own home. Even those considered poor here seemed as carefree as the wealthy. The only thing that made her cringe was the slaves, people who were obviously brought in from other countries, including a few from her own, tied up and dragged about, ordered to do chores and entertain the Norse. She was just happy Lifa seemed to find the practice as distasteful as she did. The blonde assured her Ragnar kept no slaves in his own home and Temperance should never have to deal with anything pertaining to them. Even if an issue involving slaves came up that had to be settled by the Earl or his wife, certain issues could be handled by a trusted advisor in their stead. Ragnar had already asked Lifa to be that advisor for Temperance, relieving her of ever having to face a decision she could not make.
It was late in the evening when they finally started making their way back to the longhouse. The sun was barely peeking over the trees that surrounded the town as the people hurried to gather their belongings (and in some cases children) and retreat into their homes. Lifa seemed completely unruffled by the bustle around them, easily maneuvering around the darting bodies on her way to where Temperance could hear the revelry already beginning. She sighed internally at the loud shouting and off-key singing, the occasional crashes of dishes already becoming uncomfortably familiar within the past day. It seemed when these people celebrated, nothing was safe from their merriment. Her marriage to their leader appeared to be the greatest of excuses for them to act like drunken fools.
Lifa chuckled at what was most likely a disgusted expression painting her face, "Don't worry. It's not always like this. Things will calm down again in a day or two."
Temperance glanced at her from the corner of her eye, "I don't know how to act," she admitted reluctantly. "What do they expect from me?"
"Right now? Not much," Lifa shrugged, throwing an arm around the other woman's shoulders in a friendly, nearly comforting gesture. "Just…act like a princess. No one will say a word against you as long as you act like you have more power than them. Which, you do."
Temperance drew in a long deep breath and nodded sharply, squaring her shoulders as she led the way towards the longhouse. Act like a princess. She could do that.
The noise seemed to triple in volume the second she set foot over the threshold. Men she recognized from the raid on her home and many more she'd seen since coming here were gathered in clumps around the room, drinking copious amounts of alcohol and shouting encouragements to two figures that appeared to be in the middle of a heated fight in the middle of the room. Temperance squinted at the two tangled together as they wrestled, vaguely recognizing them from the raid. Lifa breathed a long-suffering sigh from beside her, drawing her attention back to the blonde who was currently pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to fight back a headache.
"Do I want to know how this happened?" she asked quietly.
"I'm not sure I want to know, but I'm sure we're about to hear all about it," Lifa answered before gently taking her by the arm and leading her to where two thrones stood against the far wall. Ragnar was seated in one, his eyes locked, not on the fighting pair, but on the two women slowly making their way towards him. More specifically, on Lifa. Temperance didn't know how her new friend felt, but she was incredibly glad that the narrowed gaze wasn't focused on her. He did not seem happy about something.
He rose from his seat as they drew near and reached out a hand. Temperance had to take another steadying breath, remembering what Lifa had told her. Act like a princess. As gracefully as she could, she placed her hand in his, trying to fight the instinctive reaction to pull away, and allowed him to guide her to her seat beside him. After seeing her settled, he turned a frown toward the blonde woman making herself comfortable in a chair nearby, close enough for conversation, a plate of food seeming to magically appear in her hands.
The following words passed between her two companions were completely lost on Temperance. Their body language was more than revealing though. The moment Ragnar first spoke, Lifa stiffened her seat, her eyes narrowing to slits as she glared at the Earl. Ragnar in turn tensed as if for a fight. And fight it appeared they did. Their words were sharp and harsh sounding, far more so than anything she'd heard up to that point.
Suddenly, in the middle of Ragnar speaking agitatedly, Lifa's eyes widened in horror and she abruptly stood from her seat, her abandoned food crashing to the ground at her feet. The fight came to a stop as well, revealing the two warriors to be the monster who had killed her father and the odd one who had brought her to Ragnar in the first place. She kept her attention on the blonde woman, not wanting to acknowledge the men. Though that became a little harder as Lifa turned her slowly building fury on the monster that managed to tower over her and looked cowered all at the same time. Silence seemed to envelope their little bubble even as the rest of the longhouse continued with their party. The monster reached out and Lifa flinched backward, stumbling away before turning on her heel and rushing from the building. The monster said something Temperance could only assume was a curse as he rushed after her. The odd one frowned after them before slinking away back into the thick of the crowd.
Temperance blinked in confusion. Everything had happened so fast, the words spoken mostly unknown to her, though it was sounding more like a language and less like gibberish since her lesson with Lifa. Still, she felt completely lost as to what had just happened; only knowing that Lifa seemed extremely upset by something Ragnar had told her, and it somehow must have involved the other two as well. And she was the only one that had the ability to explain everything. Temperance was left in the dark with no guide, surrounded by people she didn't understand and who didn't understand her. She swallowed thickly, trying not to panic. Or at the very least, not to let her panic show. She must not have done a very good job, because a second later she felt a large warm hand grasp her and squeeze reassuringly. Glancing up she found Ragnar looking at her with a gentle, concerned expression. She gave a small, shaky smile in response, unable to manage more. Luckily that seemed to be enough. He turned back to the party as someone called his name. He didn't release her hand for the rest of the night, however.