He was incredibly calm and silent as they arrived at one of the tents. He even stopped to wonder why he is being so nice to her. Why her story was something he needed to hear? Why her skin was so similar to delicate porcelain? Why her eyes had so much strength and fire inside when they traveled across his body making him feel some unusual heat which made him self-conscious for the first time after many years.
She sat across him watching his features taking shape of someone whose confidence was just about to drop a little.
"I guess I should say thank you, now?" He said to her with a discrete smile.
"As you wish, I didn't do it for you. It is my duty to help when I can, I'm glad that your brother will survive." She answered peacefully.
"And you want your village spared from the wrath of my men in return?"
"You gave your word!" She felt a little hint of fear.
"I know, I don't have problem with my memory!" It slipped from his tongue, she felt little hurt, and he regretted his fast tongue. "Listen, my word is staying; rest assured that they will be protected, so will you, but they are not your people, your blood, maybe even your race, why care then?"
He was the first one to say that, she could be anyone, but she was afraid to confront with her identity because she had feeling that she did something bad, something terrible in the past.
"And you live there safe in the world which is not your own, waste your days, life will end before you even realize that is over, and then what? You will spend it without even a chance to live in your own skin again?"
He was challenging her, confronting her with her own thoughts that she was always denying to herself. It was uncomfortable overwhelming to be in a company of such a man. She needed to escape his presence but in the same time she was unable to move. How could he know so much about her, he just met her?
"You are not like them!" His tone rose a bit.
"How can you know, who are you to talk about my struggles? You can't possible know how it feels to be in my skin? We are so different!" She finally gathered enough voice power to respond him.
"Yes we are, but why then I feel that we are not..." He said almost silently, and than changed the subject fast, realizing that something beyond his control was directing their conversation.
"I don't care girly! I want to ask you something else. We will leave this place tomorrow, move on to our settlement in East Anglia, and I have wondered maybe you want to come with us?"
That was so unexpected and fast; she felt a little dryness in her throat.
"Since Hvitserk will be needing care until he recovers and there is nobody here with such a medical knowledge among us." He continued.
"But you are asking me, not commanding me?" She was confused.
"Of course I had to ask, you are not a slave, and you are the savior of my brother! From now on consider that you are under protection of Ivar the Boneless"
He regained his confidence guided by her expression which was showing excitement and crumb of happiness. She shivered from his words; wild imagination took her far into his embrace.
"I will come with you!" She said with the smile. His presence was attracting her like a magnet. She craved to feel his touch, so she got closer to him with mouth parted and wet.
"See you tomorrow then!" He said and he lowered himself on the floor dragging away, like he didn't even noticed how badly she wanted to kiss him, how intense shade of red was flaming her cheeks.
YOU ARE READING
Warlord in love
FantasyFearless leader, genius warlord and ruthless man, Ivar the Boneless is about to fight the greatest war in his life, and this time he won't be the one who is asking for help from the Gods, this time Gods will be praying to him.