Viking, me.

Chapter 10 - "Good girl"

I don't want to wake up. I don't want to open my eyes to the dim room - to the leather clad man. I don't want to!
I groan a little. The scratchy-warmth of wool under my fingertips.

My eyes flutter open as a the stomping that had woken me in the first place stopped. I grip onto the wool underneath me for dear life and I begin to panic. I'm in a box!! A box?!

My breath come in quick short blasts. Franticly patting the beside me it's solid. when I try to push the other I inhale sharply and tumble through the wall to find that I'm in the living room.

I land with a small thump and that I had merely been sleeping in a closed off bed. I sigh as I stand up from the ground rubbing my shoulder.
I jump with fright and my heart is in my mouth. The thunder thumping on the closed door starts again.

I'm frightened. I can't speak the language and I'm defiantly not in any position to welcome people into this house. I look across the room, over the fire pit and the wooden table to the door told the master bedroom -oh how fitting that title is!

I scurry as I hear corse words or protest being shouted. I reach the bedroom door and see him. My blood freezes in my veins. But I'm thrust into action again when the door was slammed against.

"Sven?" I whisper. Stepping farther into the room. He is a large figure under the sheets, with a mess of tangled hair on the pillow. I call his name again a little louder and take five steps closer. I wince as a groan comes from his mouth.

He must be an extremely heavy sleeper. I roll my eyes and walk up to him. I stop for a second, examining his face.
Thick eyelashes, scared lip, broad muscular chest. He looked quiet angelic whilst asleep.

I lay my hand gently in his shoulder.
"Sven?!" I repeat worry storming in like roaring lions, at the end of my sentence- the door has been battered again. I shake Sven's shoulder hard and quickly.

Just as I had looked away-

A swish of fabric just when I had my eyes closed in a blink my wrist was grabbed and some thing cold held to my neck. I gasp. Looking down at him his eyes furrowed and brows knitted.

"Sven-" I say slowly. "Please there is someone at the door!" My voice shakes. His eyes widen and he realises who I am, he broke through the mist of sleep and slides the dagger back under his pillow.

He stands up and grabs me by the hips and sits me on the bed. "Stay here!" He points directly to where I'm sitting.

"Don't move" I stay rooted to the spot as forced. I watch after him. His trousers hanging crookedly on his hips and his fists balled up. Light of the early morn flood the floor and light up the bedroom.

I hear Sven speaking and someone speaks grandly and as I lean forward I see too young men and a woman. All dressed for battle and with stony eyes and a hard line mouth.

Why is it that he is sought after almost every second of the day? I wonder if he has much importance. Surely he does? Being son of the Earl and all.

I sit on my ankles and my hands on my knees. My hair a tangled yet semi-tamed mess. I unhook the cloak that had been left on me since last night.
The ties up strings at the front of my dress had been loosened and the hung dangling as I breathed.

This dress is sea stained. The salt from the water marked the brown and there are splatters of the darker stained. I waited for him to come back. The talking had stopped. I sighed and slumped a little.

Wandering back into the room lazily he stopped at the door. Leaning against the door frame- I wait until he says something. He looks up from the floor. His hair cascading down his shoulder in braided tangled clumps.

"You did what you were told?" He asked rubbing his temple.

"What if I did?" I hadn't though of disobeying him. His eyebrows creased. He walks over and stands directly opposite to me.

His fingers reaching up to my face, sliding into my hair and cupping my head. He looks at me deeply. He is so confusing.

"It's still to early, and we have much to do." He says huskily. I shuffled closer to him once I had risen onto my knees.
One of his arms wrapped around my waist and as I try to land one foot in the floor he incased me tightly.

"Where are you trying to go?" He asks I look toward the door.
"Back to bed?" I reply with a question- something he frowns at.
He steps back and I have both feet on the floor.

I set myself loose and take two steps before my wrist is caught and my breath hitches. I prepare for the inevitable slap or hit. "Stay" he says, it's not really a question or a statement. His hand is soft around my wrist, it's gentle and warm.

"What?" I ask myself quietly. Sven had sat himself on the bed side and flattened out my hand in his. I looked at him. His eyes sparkling in the low light. He tugged at my hand and I'm tipped forward and I stand between his knees. He's looking up at me. I narrow my eyes at him.

I've never been so confused. I would have never guessed that the man at the well would have been like this. But what is this?

"I'm not staying here with you" I said shaking my head. I retract my wrist quickly and step back angling my shoulders away. His hand rises up and I can tell what he's going to do. I slap his hand away.

"You just never learn, do you?" He asks and straightens up. He hulks over me. Tattooed skin exposed- he grabs my chin and shakes it. I feel like a scorned child.

I'm picked up and tossed onto the bed. I scramble into a position where I can some what protect myself. Although when I'm about two arms length away from him he simply lift up the covers and gets into the bed.

Still pressed against the wall I watch him like a hawk for a few minuets.

"Aren't you going to get into the bed?" Asks nonchalantly. My chin hurts and my throat feels tender from last night. And remembering this I'm set on edge again. He jostled in his state and waits until I move.

Cautiously I lift the sheets and lay my head down on the pillow and I face away from him. My reasoning? So if he tries anything, I can get away easily.
I stay silent. The bed sways a little as Sven moves and all of a sudden a creepingly soft touch dances across the bottom of my neck and sweeps my hair aside.

"Good girl" he said. There is a warmth and a soft gentle pressure on my neck. His breath tickles my skin. He makes the audible sound one makes after a chasid kiss. His arm then slides around my body and lies there and even equal weight.

He is cradling me?
Throwing a quick glance over my shoulder I see the his eyes are closed.
I stay still for a few minuets just wondering what on earth those people wanted and how things ended up like.