Being in the wrong place at the wrong time was all it took for Adelasia's whole life to turn upside down. After being captured by the heathens raiding her city and taken all the way to the cold North, the youngest Ragnarsson takes an interest in her...
A/N: Thank you all so much for the votes and comments on these last couple of chapters, I love reading them and I promise the make-out is coming soon (:
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Alasia was busy scrubbing the floor underneath the benches, dirty from ale and spilt food from the feast of yesterday. She didn't need to do this, after all, if she wanted to, she could tell the head thrall in charge that Ivar requested her for some tedious task and she wouldn't be bothered for days, but the truth was that she liked it. She liked that all she needed to do was focus on the bristles of the brush moving up and down, removing all the stains in a which she wished she could clean her soul. The task provided some distraction, because every time she was alone with her thoughts, she could see Ivar's hand on the slave's soft skin, longing for it to be her and feeling utterly repulsed by those thoughts. She had prayed countless Hail Mary's, but no mercy was shown to her during this period of testing.
"What are you doing?" Ivar's sweet voice asked, echoing through the hall. Calmly, he walked over to her, the sound of his metal cast dragging over the floor audible as he did so.
She looked up, only to notice him glaring down from his new height already and feeling oddly belittled, she raised from the ground as well, brush in hand. "I'm cleaning the floors."
"Didn't I dismiss you from all domestic chores weeks ago, or do you find that you are bored?" Ivar asked, regarding her with interest. It was only then that she noticed that he was wearing the tunic she had spent so many laborious hours working upon, only to let it fall onto the ground without saying a word as she caught him a scene obviously not meant for her eyes. It looked even better on him than she had dared to imagine, the leather fitting him like a glove and making him appear even broader than he was already. Catching her gaze, he smirked. "I think this is your most crafty and best work yet, and I'm very grateful for it. At least, I assumed it is for me, after you dropped it on the ground without saying a word."
Not being able to keep looking into his eyes, she let her gaze wander to one of the walls surrounding them, feeling her cheeks heat up under his teasing stare. "I'm glad you like it."
"Now, we must go to the Great Hall," Ivar continued, his eyes flickering away from her face and his taunting smirk disappearing. Moving quite mechanically, he turned around and started walking towards the door, leaning awkwardly on his single crutch. When he didn't hear her footsteps following him, he turned to look over his shoulder, catching the distraught expression on her face. "Come, Adelasia, your guests are waiting."
