Stealing the Valkyrie

Feast

When Edithe walked towards him, to be his wife, she'd looked truly ethereal. A gift from the Gods. He didn't need people to tell him how beautiful she was, he'd known it the moment he'd first seen her and every day since.

Now they were wed and he carried her across the longhouse, his sword still bedded in the rafters. He'd waited a long time for this day to arrive and he intended to relish every moment. The weight of her in his arms, the feel of her skin as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her smile when it brightened her face.

Taking his place at the head of the wedding feast, he sat Edithe on his lap and, like he knew she would, she wriggled for freedom.

"Stay," he said, his words not quite a command nor were they a request as his arm tightened around her waist. Like an animal scenting his territory, he wanted to do more than simply marry her. He wanted to possess her for all to see, so there would be no question of her loyalty or his claim.

Surprisingly, she didn't fight him. Instead, relaxing into his lap, her attention caught as people began to pour into the room until it was heaving with life and music.

Weddings were always huge events with more food than anyone could eat and more ale than anyone could drink. His wedding was no exception and Lagertha had done a fine job organising almost everything. He would thank her later but for now, he would enjoy the festivities though Edithe's curious gaze.

Before long he spotted Haedde approaching, a jug of bridal ale in one hand and their loving cup in the other. Sweeping Edithe's hair from her ear, he whispered, "now I must get you drunk, sweet wife."

"Drunk?" she glanced back at him with wide eyed alarm and he chuckled, remembering he had seen her drunk before.

"You look like a fine match together," Haedde praised, placing the ale and cup onto the table in front of them.

"Thank you, Haedde," Edithe said, taking her hand, "I wish you could have been with me."

"I know, child. But I am here now and all morning I have been praying for God to bless you with a good and happy marriage."

Edithe replied to Haedde in her native tongue, her tone and facial expressions giving away none of what was said. But he supposed she was allowed her secrets and he trusted Haedde with them. Even if he didn't always trust Edithe and her runaway feet.

By the time their conversation was over, the room had stilled expectantly. All the guests waiting for the newlyweds to take their first sips of ale and legally bind their vows.

"It is tradition for the bride to serve her husband," Rollo explained, sliding the jug closer to Edithe.

"Hm," she scoffed and he couldn't help but laugh. This would be the first and last time he would expect Edithe to serve him anything and they both knew it. But with eyes watching, she didn't disappoint. Carefully pouring the ale, the full cup requiring both hands to keep it steady as she slowly brought it to his lips. The honeyed ale flowed, sweetly down his throat and he quietly thanked the God's for such delicious ceremony.

"Now it is your turn, " he encouraged, returning the favour, his fingers brushing softly with hers as he grasped the cup.

Without hesitation, she sipped, binding their fates yet again but it was the way she licked her lips which excited him. Or at least, excited the impatient part of him. The part which was only interested in one ceremony and lived for the moment he could take her home and consummate their marriage.

"That will be all for now, Haedde," he said, encouraging her to leave. From the moment they'd arrived in the longhouse, a question had been burning on his tongue and he was impatient to ask it.