Chapter 14: A New Role to Play

 

Intoxicating

I felt as if my whole day had been in this room. That didn't appear to be the case. After the bar and door opened up, a shine from the great hall's morning light poured in. It was maybe closer to noon than anything. 

Sitting still, my red-rimmed eyes look behind, over my shoulder, from where I sat up to Britt.

"What are you doing down there?" She kneels down to grip me beneath the arms and help me stand up.

The door is nearly closed behind her and I immediately reach out in alarm. I try to prevent my only way out from shutting. 

Britt catches on and props the door open. She wouldn't know how much that little gesture had lifted my spirits. Being locked away felt too much like how this entire cursed voyage home began.

Hands from my sister went down to hold and aid me up to the bed for a seat. "We have heard that you are, um... Going to be wed," Britt smile, a little uncertain, but cheerfully. She seemed a little wary as she saw my appearance. How did I look to her?

A soothing hand is rubbed up and down over my back while her head leans into the lower half of my shoulder. I can't help myself as I stare out the door, the glow of freedom just hanging there. All it would take for me is to push my sister away and make a mad dash for the world outside.

Again, it seemed Britt had latched onto some kind of invisible bridle. She directed my look away from the door down to her. "What are you thinking about right now?"

"Escape."

This leaves Britt silent. She looks at the open door, then up to me, and gently shakes her head. "You would cause great harm to us all if that were to happen."

I shake my head quickly, "No, nonono. I wouldn't," I desperately announce, running a hand up through my short hair, unsure how to explain and the indecisiveness giving me a little pause to think on it. "Vloros, he-," I search for words, to Hell with it, I grab at them as they come to me, "He wouldn't be too concerned. He's acting like a hunter and I'm the game." I choke and burst out a single note of laughter, "I'm a moose."

Britt lifts her head from my shoulder. There is a deep concern growing in her eyes. Spreading, over those normally pleasant and delicate features, is a sign of fear. A hand is placed down onto mine to rub and soothe me to continue. She says nothing and I take it as that to resume.

"He'll just come after me," I smile with a little laugh. Maybe cry? I don't really know between the two emotions nor care right now, but I keep spilling out my thoughts. "I'll grab a ship, like I did before, and sail someplace. Maybe I'll go south this time." I nod, "I'm sure that the Saxons or Franks would make it difficult for that Liv to follow. Might give me ample time to reach someplace safe."

I feel the grip on my hand constrict tighter and Britt has lost all of her cheerfulness. She is worried and stares like she is afraid of me. "You can't. Even if you tried, don't you think that Dorte already thought of that? Prepared for you to run?"

My eyes dart back and forth, from sister to door, and I mull over what she says. Slowly, I nod, "Yes. Yes, that makes sense... But you will help me." I look down to my elder sister, "You will help me escape, won't you?"

Britt goes still for a few seconds. I let the idea sink in. She listened to me and I need her to honestly consider it. Gradually, she nods to me in acceptance. "I will." She looks out the door. "Not now, we need to prepare."

"Prepare?"

"Food, drink, clothes, and coin," turning to me, "A horse and weapon perhaps." She lets go of me and stands. "A ship that would be willing to take you." She turns to me, "You need a crew who do not care for your station and role, else they simply bring you back here."

I breath out in relief. I'm saved at least one nightmare. "Thank you," I cry out to Britt, "Thank you." I bite down on my knuckles to keep from crying out any louder.

"But... What if we are caught? What will you do if all goes awry?" This comes out of Britt in a low whisper towards me. She truly is concerned for my well-being and I am grateful.

Again, I let slip my thoughts in the form of words. Spitting out my fist, "I'll make the biggest ruckus, the worst scene, and a wedding that would sentence the death of at least one person." I laugh a little louder than I should have, "Probably me."

Britt looks at me with wide open blue eyes and nods softly in confirmation. "Please stay here," she begs me, "and I'll prepare what I can. It may take time, as I do not want to draw suspicion, but please know that I am doing what is best for you."

Renewed, the smile on me brightens and I lift myself from the bed to kiss my sister repeatedly on her temple, forehead, and brow. "Thank you, I love you, I will never forget you." I tightly embrace her enough to make the smaller woman squeak. 

She pats me a few times in eagerness, "I have to go and ready what I can before it is too late." I loosen my grip and let her go. Slowly, I back away and sit back down on the bed. "I have to bar the door still... You understand why?" I nod in understanding.

With a sigh of relief from Britt, I watch her nod to me, and walk out of the door in a hurry before hearing the closure and barring once more. 

Again, I am in darkness and wonder. My thoughts drift to where I might go and who I could earn the trust in the southern lands. It is vast and the opportunities are many...

After awhile, I hear the bar of the door removed and see the portal shine light within again. Britt returns, she walks to me and lays a hand down on my shoulder. A worn-out looking smile is on her lips as she speaks down to me, "Come, let me at least wash you up one last time. I can show you, on the way, where I stored the sacks of food, explain the details, prepare skins for your thirst, and point you to who and what to trust for when the time comes to leave."

I nod, seeing the point of this as an excuse to see the layout of the escape plan and stand up to follow my sister out the door. 

I catch her grabbing a pitcher and cup from outside the room that had to have been sitting there recently. Otherwise, one of the guests would have snatched it up and consumed the contents. The pitcher is full to the rim.

Britt pours a cup for me and offers it up. "Have a drink. This will calm you and clear your thoughts so the journey can be executed without worry." She is rambling, but I take the hint. Too often do I let anxiety and anger control my actions and this day I need to be precise. Without practice, one mistake is all it could take to ruin what little remained of my life.

The cup is taken and I almost drank from it. 

My icy-blues look down at the swirling purple hue of the contents and the granules at the bottom. Memories of a bathing complex in Constantinople rushes through my mind. A day that could have become a horrendous unknown Hell if not for the Rus-irregulars watching out for me.

Britt surprises me by pouring herself a cup and nearly downs the stuff in one gulp. A second sip later and I watch her wincing, the taste or potency strong, and gives a small shake of her head with a big smile up at me. "I need it too," she laughs brightly and sets the emptied cup down. 

I grin and drink up.

I'm not really sure why I worried. Britt has never done anything to make me question her love for me. In fact, when I had awoken upon arriving here, she was the only one... Other than Gunhelle, to instantly defend me. Maybe not right away accept who I was, but she cares a considerable deal and it shows deeply.

We continue down the hall. Over yonder, she silently points out at the sacks laying along the wall, right where there are other packages. "A horse will be available and I have an idea what crew will take you," she whispers. A smiling face beams from her to greet warmly the guests warmly with a bow.

Another cup is poured for me and I take it in hand for another gulp. I do feel the sting of it, nice and hot, much like a steamy herbal tea than a warmed drought of wine. I had thought that there would only be mead in this great hall, but I forgot how well trade has been flourishing in the seas as of late.

Making our way to the wash-room, I peer in to see no one being about and feel a little more relaxed that it will only be us conspirators that have the room. The door is closed behind us. I had been about to unlace the back of my dress. Feeling back there, I note that it had never been tied back up since Vloros undid the binding.

"Are you alright?" I hear Britt chip in with concern, " You're a little pink in the face." I shake my head and hold up a hand in rejection to the notion that anything is wrong. With my rejecting-hand still held up, she pushes yet another filled cup into it. "Good, you had me worried for a moment."

Again, I can't help myself from smiling down at my elder sister. The contents of the cup is drained in one gulp, at least becoming easier to swallow, and my sister had prepared another in the course it took me to finish this one. I set the empty down, but I begin to disrobe instead of taking the refill.

She sets the tray down on the floor by the tub's side. I had not really thought of it until now, but the tub is filled with steaming hot water. Well, what else would be in there? She did prepare much and it would not have been difficult to care for a heated bucket while collecting for my voyage.

My red dress is handed over to Britt and she backs away a moment to place the outfit off someplace dry and safe from the tub. I turn and tenderly lower myself into the heated depths of the tub, wincing a moment, but gradually easing my way into the delighted hot ambrosia. When settled, I reach down for the cup to again throw it back into my awaiting mouth. It didn't occur to me until now that I had not eaten or drank a thing since leaving Hammerhus.

No wonder I was feeling tired. The times I had passed out makes all too much sense now. I sigh and decide to pour my own cup this time. I'll need whatever I can get in me if I want to be ready for this escape.

One more pull of my cup emptying past my lips and I stall from setting the dish down. The waters feel all the more welcoming and I slip further into its depth. My knees come up as my shoulders sink. Icy-blue eyes stare down at my raised knees in wonder why I can never fit into anything comfortably.

I turn to look over at Britt and giggle when I see two of her. One is slightly taller, but they look almost identical. Well, maybe the other is a tad older. Actually, far older. I blink a few times to clear the blurry vision from me. Dorte?

"Will she be okay?" I hear Britt ask in a slight high-pitched tone. This makes me crack up. She sounds like she's some kind of squeaky chipmunk. Dorte gently nods to her niece.

"They said it would only work this way," she laid a hand on Britt's shoulder, "Don't worry. You are fine too, but I would tolerate one day without a hot bath." Oh my God! She sounded like a man with a deeply resounding base voice! I lose it.

My sides hurt too much from laughing at this point.

Then my breathing becomes shallow. I try sucking in the air deeper and faster, but I feel so light headed. For a moment, I try to get up and out of the water, but I slip and sink back in. My head is submerged, maybe for a brief second, but a set of hands yank me back up. Dorte and Britt both hold an arm and set my limbs hanging out and off the side of the tub.

I hear crying. My eyes move around to search for the source, but it takes me a moment to roll my head back and see, feeling the salty drips of tears dollop upon my face after they come rolling from Britt's glossy eyes. I slowly reach, barely able to control the movement of my arm, but manage to lift a hand up to brush away the line of tears from her cheek.

She runs away from me. I don't get to catch where to. I suppose she had somewhere to be? My head turns to try and trail after the receding noise of her footsteps. Where she went, I have no idea, but I do begin to watch the world tilting and rocking on its axis.

Numb, a bit senseless, but some how I notice someone touching me. My eyes roll to the side to catch my aunt scrubbing me from head to toe. She is silent and seems to keep her gaze away from meeting mine. I suppose I wouldn't want to speak too when my voice is that deep.

After awhile, I watch her pour another cup for me, the pitcher nearly empty, and bring it to my lips. Tender and steady, I feel the contents being dipped up to my lips and poured into my mouth for me to swallow it all up. I feel so hot. My skin crawls with embers that seem to be finding any bit of my body that can and will burn.

Everything around me whirls and I don't know if I am watching the world turn or my head rolling around. Again, there is the sense of a dish being pressed to my lips and the passage of fluid being drained from it into my mouth. I can barely think...

"Oh- I'm... Gon- Naa..." Black out...

My eyes blink open with my sisters swarming over me. I think they are tugging something on me.

Another blink shows me the great hall. Quite a number of people are enjoying the sight of me.

Blinked again. I turn my head towards a crowd of people. They don't seem too thrilled to see me. Who the fuck are they?

I tried not to shut my eyes, but the searing light of the sun pours into the hall and blinds me for a second.

As I had looked down and away from the light, I note the dress I wear is red, but not the same one that I had been wearing previously. When did I get out of the tub?

I think I'm okay. I didn't black out again. I feel something pressed up to my lips and hear, "Drink." The dish is pushed against me and I feel the contents drip down my throat.

Nope, back into the darkness I go. Everything about me feels numb. Am I standing? Sitting? Laying down? I cannot even tell if the world is upright or not.

Where am I?

My face turns up and I see a mass of blonde curls drooping low over me. A full golden beard accompanied with a long mustache and a broad smile. Shinning blue eyes stare down at me.

"Fa- ther- er?" That came out slurry and slower than expected. The smile spreads open happily and he leans in to lay a kiss on my forehead.

Am I laying on his couch? Who or why would my aunt permit anyone to do such a thing? My fragile father wouldn't understand what is going on... "Here is the last of it. Drink up," I hear once more before I am spirited away.

I blink back tears as I find the image of my father gone.

My vision takes in the view of the crowds of guests again. This time, all heads are turned up towards me. What are they looking at?

There is a grip on my arm. Giving it some thought, I decide to look down and see what is holding me, and I find a man's hand on it. Apparently, it has been jerking me to attention.

I lift my gaze up and see Vloros looking at me expectantly. My head backs away and I say, "Huh?" He jerks his head towards a couple of people standing at our side. I turn to look at them.

Confusion sets in. These are gothar. What is a gothi even doing here? They should only be around for the annual blot. Wait, there could be another reason. It is on the tip of my tongue and I might be able to make it out if I concentrate.

"Marry? You? No," comes rolling out one slurry word at a time. There is a silence in the great hall and the grip on my arm tightens painfully.

"Kris, you will love and obey me," I hear Vloros state clearly.

Inside me, I feel the bubbles of laughter come up and burst out of my mouth. In a giddy mood, I retort, "Do you think I would marry you under the Norse Gods and be called by my Christian name?" Oh wow, I'm on a roll here and that sounded pretty damn crisp to my ears.

That seemed to loosen his grip and cause his brows to raise in surprise. We turn in equal shock to find another person laughing. Abella even claps her hands together in joy. 

"I believe my Dear youngest sister has a point," and her attention is directed towards the few guests that have distanced themselves for almost the whole feasting. Those people happen to be of Christened Holstein in the Saxon's realm. "You are the Bishop of Hamburg and Bremen, correct?"

I don't exactly have enough coordination for my head to turn to who answers, but I hear a, "Yes my Child."

"Would you care to do the honors and perform a Christian wedding-," Abella asks before being interrupted.

"ENOUGH!" My aunt yells out. "Get on with this-," then it is her who is interrupted.

Vloros stomps and points accusingly up at Dorte, "I care not if it is by your Norse Gods or of the Christian Faith. I follow the Ram of my people, what you call Romuva, and am willing to taste the same beliefs my wife desires." A shrug, "If it makes her happy." He turns around and beckons the Bishop up with a wave.

The man complies and makes his way regally up to the front of the gathering.

I teeter a bit on my feet, not really having a clue what just transpired, but I feel like I won. I smile, unintentionally at Vloros, but it doesn't matter. He knows that I had my victory.

I'm not paying much attention or my head is simply too full to accept anymore talk from these people. I feel Vloros grip tighten on my arm again and my eyes come back into focus to see what he wants this time.

He points at the Bishop. Oh yeah, my victory. I turn back to Vloros to nod in satisfaction and smile again in a boastful way. He leans in towards me, looking up at me expectantly once more, and I feel a little confused.

"Yes?" For once in my life, I didn't say the dreaded 'What,' despite the urge to do so. I feel kind of accomplished today. 

There rings a sound in my ear. A roar of cheering and applause. I try to turn my head to see it all, but instead I'm turned back to Vloros.

A kiss. Just as deeply as it had been that night. He pulled me down into it and I melted in his mouth. There is still the taste of mint on his tongue. Does he eat that plant regularly?

His face parts from mine in confusion. A pinch, between his fingers off the tip of his tongue pulls something away. Did my breath smell? I didn't eat anything. Maybe he wasn't too thrilled with my choice of drink! 

His copper eyes looking down at his rubbing fingers in concern and then swiftly turning to angrily search up at where my aunt once stood. I guess he is pissed at her about something. This makes me laugh a little.

Vloros looks back at me and slides his arm around my waist and lifts me to cradling with me holding onto him in surprise. Do I weigh too much for him? I know I'm taller than he is, but he acts as if I am light as a feather. Then again, those bunched up muscles in his arms are not exactly all show and I know from experience that those legs of his can keep pumping effortlessly all night.

There is a ruckus going on around me for a moment. Then I find out that others are sharing hands to dance in joy. Some are clashing their mugs and cups merrily together and others smashing theirs down in satisfaction. Quite a few seem to want a quick pat or tug on Vloros or me to join in.

We enter the hall to outskirt the crowd and make it into a room. I hear the door get kicked shut behind us and am only able to make out the sound of the muffled celebration outside.

The bed feels cool beneath my back. "Sorry," I hear from Vloros, "I know normally it is the ladies that prepare you for this, but I'm done tolerating this house's way of handling lives." He leans down to me, "You belong to me. Not them anymore."

I focus my icy-blues on one copper eye and then switch to the other and give him a simple smile before laughing at him. "The- Then we should escape." I cover my mouth to try and keep my laughter in.

He smiles down at me with a raised brow, "That... That is not a bad idea." At that, he leans in to kiss the knuckles on my hand, lightly pecking on each digit until moving up, and then taking in the tip of one finger to lightly lick it.

I move my hand away from my mouth to find his taking its place. Those lips brush and blend with mine like before. It warms me and I feel his pressure increase to delve further. For him, my lips part and welcome his entry to greet and taste me.

My eyes close for a brief moment, opening them up again when I hear myself moan, and then catch that my hands have made their way behind his neck and head to pull him in. What am I doing? Is this another dream or did I lose my mind?

There is a tug on my shoulders. A tearing sound as the dress I am outfitted in is ripped up, then away for a second, enough that he can be more gentle about pulling it down my body. The glide of the fabric runs over the bare breast of my chest and the ribbed slope of my ribs before settled into the dimple on my flat stomach.

The kiss breaks for a moment. I apparently needed it to catch my breath. He needed it to complete the undressing of me and to do the same for himself.

I've never seen him fully unclothed before. Actually, I never had a chance to witness him without his pants in the wash-room. When I saw him, my heart leaps up into my throat. Where to begin? Maybe at how incredible his shoulders and chest are mightily seized. What did this man have to lift daily to solidify that much lean muscle together?

His legs were thunderously large and corded with a strength that could haul mountains. I won't even compare his manhood with anyone or thing. I only have the experience of my own and those I've seen without excitement. I'll divest a little of what many could imagine by stating one thing; I wouldn't believe he could fit if he hadn't already done so.

My eyes lift up from his proud masculinity to see his trim waist. I tried to imagine him wearing his sword by his hip, but the idea had become silly imagining him naked and excited with that sword. Maybe it was a good thing I traded it away. I smile at the thought.

He must have taken my smile as his cue to come back to me. His body lowered down to nestle his cheeks between my thighs and I am not prepared for what he does next. I raise my hips up as he kisses me in a place I feel men's, or any lips, should never trace. Then his tongue probes within me to score a hole into the reservoir of my excitement.

Of course my body reacts with a wet response. I part my knees away from his shoulders, but he hooks his arms around them and pulls my legs over his shoulders. His thick fingers stroke and rub in massaging grace up and down my thighs from within and without while licking away internally.

The sheets beneath me are gripped within my hands and I probably have begun to rip into them with my longer nails. My head rolls back, looking at the head of the bed, then to the stray pillows we should be using to rest ourselves on. Somehow I don't think that we will be getting much rest tonight.

Eventually, I feel the brush of his cheek lift from within my thighs. Looking down, I see and lock our eyes together before my own rolled up into the back of my head as he inserts his fingers into me.

Gradually, he sits himself a bit higher up, still plunging his hand forward and back from the divide between my thighs, and yet doing nothing more with the rest of my laying body. At least, for the moment.

A turn of his head and his kisses make ways down my thigh and back up the other. His free hand runs along my hip and strokes back over the outside of my thigh in a grasp that both massages and comforts me. I manage to focus again on his face and stare at his manipulations of my legs.

His fingers pull out and he scoots forward. I watch his free hand lower my legs off of his shoulders to allow a heel to rest back down on the bed and both knees press into his sides. There is a familiar sensation probed at my entrance.

Before he could do it, before I scream or yell or anything, something to cause this moment to fall back into his control, I reach out and grab him by the shoulders. I pull him down. My lips catching his crashing and bruising tingly into mine. I smell and taste the mint once more and favor it over any other aroma on Earth.

I only pause for a second from the pressure being inserted within me. Our intimacy continues and I dance joyfully with his tongue while our lips find their way to best lock each other together. 

He doesn't give me time to adjust. Maybe I didn't need to find the comfort in it anymore. There was no searing surprise this time and the pleasant electricity had unexpectedly sneaked its way past my notice awhile ago. I've already begun to charge up for another intense surge to bolt through me.

It takes time for my head to clear. Maybe I was wearing down from the drug, but I am intoxicated on my husband. There wasn't a way for me to get enough. I had to have more or else I would explode. Each time he thrusts into me, I grab him and pull, and he would respond harder and faster.

I finally had it when he had been the one to fill me with his explosive life-seed. Both my arms and legs wrapped and clung around him to never let his body part from mine. It never would feel the same if he left me...

For the night, we remained together and had gone on into the next morning with me being the first awake again. I am thinking it has something to do with my survival instincts wanting me to be the early bird and eat something. How many days has it been since I've filled my stomach with something?

Slowly, I move a little, but I am unable to do more with half of Vloros on top of me. I turn my face to the side and see if there is something I can grab to use for me to extract myself. A bed-post will do.

I reach over and grab it. Pulling, I slide out from underneath his heavy frame. It surprises me that he had not awoken from this. Did he tire himself out that much through the night? 

My eyes drift down the muscled valley of his spine. In some years, before this change had set into me, would I have had a body like that? Could I have been in the same position he is in?

At that thought, I raise my hand up and look at it. I circle on the bed and sit back to where Vloros slumbers so I can compare my slender hand with his massive one. The size difference is stunning, but I cannot imagine me being capable of ever reaching an outstanding physique like his.

I'm pulled back by my waist and I let out a surprised squeak. Our eyes find each other to confirm that both of us are indeed awake now. There isn't anything spoken between us.

It is me who first breaks the gaze. I stare down at the bed, then to the door, and back down at the strong arm embracing me to his side. I feel like this is Deja Vu, "Let me go."

"No," he states it very clearly and with enough authority to brook no argument. I think he meant it when he said he's done tolerating my family. That would include me.

I almost began to go into a panic, my quick breathes a sign, but he shuffled up behind me and embraced to pull my back into his bare chest in comfort. He lifts his chin to rest on the back of my shoulder and offers a few shushing sounds to soothe me back to calming down. My eyes close and I lower my head to control myself.

"I meant it," he says, "that we should escape together. Before they change their minds about something we had done." This made me open and look his way in wonder. I think he caught my questioning look, "You aunt didn't look very pleased with how the wedding was performed."

I smirk and shake my head, "I don't give a fuck what she thinks about our-." I pause and realize I fucking married a MAN! My eyes dart away from his and look for something to distract my mind before I go crazy right now.

"At least, we should escape until it is time for the coronation to begin," he makes it sound so clear. This only brings confusion to me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your King," he states.

"We don't have a King," I make that plainly clear.

"You will. King Bjorn Magnarson," he tells me. Oh my fucking dear God! Lykke's son!? No wonder she was against the idea of me coming back from the dead.

"Wait, why isn't it Ryg or Rollo Ryggfinson? They are the eldest sons of our family."

"Apparently, they did not have enough support," he makes that clear. Moots are an election.

"Okay, that makes sense, but he would be a jarl of Skane, not King of Skane."

"He's not," he confirms.

"I don't understand what you are talking about." This time, I try to turn around and face him. He keeps his grip around me and overpowers his advantage of having me held vulnerably in front of himself.

"I told you," he repeats, "that if you were not told already, then you were not supposed to know."

"Know what?"

"That he will become King."

I am starting to get a headache from all of this. Maybe I had one to begin with. I feel like I've been heavily drinking all night without a crumb of bread to soak it up. There is a chance I could get sick right here and now if I don't fill my belly with something.

"May I please go and eat?" Surprisingly, he lets me go.

"Yes we can," he permits while scooting back to find some of his clothes to start putting back on. Now I know how this game works. I can't demand anything. Permission granted only.

I hang my head and wonder if my life will ever regain an upside...