Moonlight Promise

Part Two

*Disclaimer: Mature content ahead*

I know that sitting around waiting for Ivar to show up is foolish. Immature, even. He is a busy man. Always planning or plotting. Whether it be against his own brothers, or a foreign foe, Ivar is always planning something.

I'm not sure what it says about me that I'm so enamored with someone who is obsessed with vengeance, yet I am.

Every noise, every footstep, every gust of wind that blows against the shutters on my tiny cabin raises the hair on the back of my neck. It's like I know he isn't coming, but the universe keeps sending me little pulses of hope that do nothing but keep me on edge.

I want to think that mayhap, at least once, I'll be granted some favor from the gods.

I watch as the sun gravitates across the sky, changing position as the hours pass, until it finally recedes behind the clouds. I watch the sky be set ablaze by the disappearance of the sun. It's beautiful and poetic and passionate. It sparks that familiar disappointment inside of me as I come to terms with the fact that he isn't coming. He never was.

Ivar The Boneless would never be enamored with a woman like me.

Solitary, alone, with no prospects. I have nothing to offer him. I have no family. I work hard around our village, but there is little else besides that to be proud of.

He is used to the finest things in life.

I sigh as the wind picks up outside of my window. The eerie howling sound sends shivers down my spine, so I rush to close the shutters and start a fire.

The heat from the fire will warm my small cabin quickly, keeping me comfortable as I settle in for the night. I may not have much but what I do have is cozy.

The fur rugs lining my floors are soft against my bare feet as I eat a bowl of stew I 'd made for supper. I'd made enough for two, actually, but since Ivar still hasn't shown up, I go ahead and eat what I want. Since I had to catch and kill my own game to ensure this meal would be enjoyable, I figured I'm worthy of a second portion.

The ale in my cup is heady and bitter, but I can't find any wine as of late. I like wine much better; I like the sweet stuff the most, but ale will do. I am in for a quiet night of reading and sewing, and I don't mind it one bit.

I set my empty bowl aside, prepared to rinse it through, when I hear a soft knock on my cabin door. I pause, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and pressing it to my thigh, between the ruffles of my skirt.

It doesn't occur to me that my visitor could very well be Ivar until I open the door and see him there, soaking wet from the rain.

My mouth falls open in surprise even as I open the door wider for him to step inside. I didn't think he would actually find me, but he has, and here he is. Watching me again with those fiery blue eyes.

"You are not an easy woman to track down," He says.

I open my mouth to respond but he lifts my hand still holding my forgotten knife and quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Was this a part of your plan for this evening?"

I can't tell if he is jesting with me or not, but when a smirk forms on his lips, I know that he is. I let him remove it from my grip and set it on my small kitchen table.

"No. I'm sorry, I just ...didn't think you were actually going to find me. I didn't know who could be knocking on my door this late." I say hoarsely. His eyebrows quirk at my words.

"Why wouldn't I come? I don't get offers like yours very often."

My hands grip the fabric of my dress and I sigh as I shrug my shoulders.