Like Me

In the Cabin

What had gotten into Ivar, you did not know. What you did know was that you were not allowed to have anyone in his eyes. No one was deemed good enough for him. The marriage to Whitehair was a formality for what the man was really cooking up: a life alone. He was meant to be your best friend and yet, he had done that.

"Lady, I've made the skyr." Sigunnr, your new thrall, says. Whitehair bought her from Rorik himself. For well... obvious purposes. In addition to a bed slave she would help you care for the home. You had managed yourself well in taking up the basket of clothes in one arm.

"Oh good. Sweep the floor and begin the weaving. I'll go wash these clothes." You say.

"I can come with you!" She insists, her cropped short blonde hair bobbing as she stood, hands in front of herself.

"No, no... I'd like time to think by myself."

"Oh. Of course."

Like that you took your basket and made your way out of your home. If you could, you wanted to erase thought of your wedding night. The fact that you were still a virgin was shameful enough. What woman was a virgin after her wedding night?

But then...

I forbid you from being with any other man.

Ugh! He was infuriating! You knew that he cared... you knew! But he had gone too far. As you made your way through the streets of Kattegat, you knew that people were watching you. Not normal, ordinary everyday people. Ivar's men. You skate into the house where your mother was prepping everything to go.

"(Y/N)?" She tilts her head as you appear within the cabin. You hand the clothes to your mother, almost smiling.

"I know you have water. Could you perhaps wash these for me tonight before you go tomorrow?" You ask. "I have something else to do."

"Why yes but–"

"Perfect, thank you." You drift off searching for the planks that cover one lone exit. You pop it open, tucking the crutch under your arm and pop it open. Then you crawl within it, looking for anywhere that might afford you some silence. Ivar had walled off Kattegat from both the pier and the back. There was no going to the water you loved so passionately– except.

"This is the exit. Should you need to escape, you know how to."

Whitehair would be too busy constructing defenses. Few guards were at this station facing the forest. Most were constructing the wall. So as you throw the planks off, slipping through the door without another moment, you feel your taste of freedom by Kattegat's springs. You peel off your dress and set it beside you, crawling into the water– the place where you feel weightless and beautiful in your own way. You lay with your back upon the bumpy but smooth rocks, letting yourself enjoy the water.

"I keep catching you in the worst predicaments." The voice, behind you, belonged to the most unlikely of people. Or really, it should have been likely. You sit up abruptly, rushing to cover your breasts while pressing your legs together tightly.

"You're staring at my nakedness!" You look over your shoulder. The Prince Rorik stands facing the opposite direction beside you. His large dark wooded bow is in his hand, a quiver of arrows over his back. On his belt just beside his short knife, a hook of sables.

"I was not." Rorik complains. "What is it with women bathing without weapon? Do you not think someone could see you?"

"Other than you?"

"Other than me." He agrees.

"I think I came here to bathe without being judged. I thought no one would be outside the walls." You look down to your legs, hands never leaving your chest.