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"Where are we going?" Yvette asked as she watched her husband pack a bag. Hvitserk smiled looking over his shoulder remembering the first time he had taken Yvette to worship the gods on the mountain. The young woman was terrified, clung to his arm like a child needing its mother and Hvitserk smiles.
Maybe that's when. He thought.
"To the mountain to worship the gods."
Yvette looked at him curious, "I thought that was only one time a year?"
"Just pack your things Yvette." Hvitserk walked around the table to come up behind Yvette his hands snake around her waist pulling close, his lips connect to her neck. "We are going to enjoy it this time. Together."
The journey to the mountain was grueling, reminding Yvette of her disdain for the Heathen culture. However, upon arrival, she felt a sense of comfort, recalling her first visit with Hvitserk. Despite the memory making her laugh, she still harbored resentment towards their culture, though it was slowly growing on her.
The Heathens wasted no time in starting their celebration, with everything being loud and chaotic. However, the journey had taken its toll on Yvette, and she didn't feel like participating in the festivities. Taking the opportunity to sneak away, she found solace in the cabin reserved for the princes.
when Hvitserk noticed Yvette was no where to be seen he knew where she would be; and so he gathered some food and made his way to Yvette where he found her buried under the furs a sad expression cast upon her face.
"Yvette, are you alright?" When he got no answer from the girl he came closer to the bed placing the plate of food on the table beside him, Hvitserk lays next to her his arms clinging around her as she peeks from under the furs.
He smirks, "hi."
"Hi."
"I brought you some food."
"I'm not hungry." Yvette rolled over pulling the furs back over her face. Hvirserk chuckles, kicking off his boots he gets under the covers with her wrapping his arms around her pulling her against him.
"What can I do?"
"Get out."
"I don't want to."
Yvette rolled over to face Hvitserk, not initially realizing how close he was until she saw him right in front of her. She nearly smiled and felt a tingle in her stomach, realizing that she wasn't mad at him being there and holding her. She wondered when her feelings toward the son of Ragnar had changed, but she couldn't pinpoint the exact moment. All she knew was that being with him made her feel safe, and she wanted to keep that feeling.
For a moment, she thought that their closeness might have been due to the strange sexual attraction they had shared, but she quickly dismissed that idea. She had allowed him to touch her not just because people were asking, but because she genuinely wanted to be with him as a husband and wife should. As she pondered on these thoughts, she couldn't remember when she had fallen for Hvitserk.
"I love you," she whispered, fear gripping her stomach as she closed her eyes. What if he didn't feel the same way about her? What if he still hated her and she had been foolish to fall in love with a man who despised her, especially since she had once felt the same way about him? How would she be able to move past it if he didn't reciprocate her feelings? Her mind began to race with even more unpleasant thoughts as she waited for Hvitserk, the son of Ragnar, to respond.
