Stealing the Valkyrie

Surrender

Sitting in Rollo's bed without a piece of clothing on her body should have made Edithe feel vulnerable. But that wasn't why her heart raced or why goosebumps prickled along her skin. She couldn't even blame it on the flower Rollo danced over her skin as he crouched beside her. So delicate, only the whisper of a touch.

What if she enjoyed being with him?

What if he took her in his arms and she never wanted to leave?

He wasn't some faceless man claiming her body for his own. He was Rollo and she knew him intimately. His favorite stories, his laughter, the lines on his face. She wasn't stupid enough to think that this moment would mean nothing to her. On the contrary, she was afraid it would mean everything.

When she was alone, it was so much easier to plan how she should think and feel. Her loyalty was never in question then as it was now, his eyes melting onto her skin. Her mind forgetting she'd ever made any plans which didn't involve losing herself in this exact moment.

"You're trembling," he said, taking her hand and brushing his thumb over her knuckles.

"I'm nervous." She could at least admit that truth, though it wasn't for the reasons he might have imagined.

"Don't you trust me, Edithe?"

"Yes." And the truth of her answer was one of the things which frightened her most of all.

He smiled, tilting her chin so he could find her lips. A simple kiss seemed so innocent to her now, and she enjoyed the tenderness of it. His tongue sweetened by the bridal ale, his hands never straying beneath the bedcover. Just a kiss. Not rushed or forced but given with affection. Perhaps even given with love and what a terrifying word that was. So perhaps a simple kiss was not so innocent after all.

When it was over, she pressed her fingers to her lips as if she could wipe all emotion from them but it was no use. Her feelings didn't rest superficially on her skin. They rushed through her veins and danced with the butterflies in her stomach. She could no sooner remove them than she could carve out her soul and offer it as penance to God.

"Would you like more ale?" he asked, standing and moving to pick up the jug-

"No!" she said suddenly, stopping him in his tracks and perhaps he sensed the urgency which gripped her. She didn't want to eat or drink or talk and she wouldn't say she wanted this night to be over either. She didn't think so little of Rollo to want that. She simply wanted it to happen, to be in the middle of things so she wouldn't have to think about them.

He laughed- nervously but his trepidation was nothing compared to her own so she hardly noticed it. Hardly noticed anything at all until he was standing beside the bed and removing his tunic, throwing it aside like he'd done countless times before.

This was it, she thought and her hands tightened against the furs, though she supposed the time for modesty was quickly diminishing.

Usually, she would force herself to stop from staring but why bother? He was her husband now and merely looking upon him seemed like the least of her concerns. So she indulged her eyes, drinking in his lean, tanned skin and the flex of muscles under tattoos and faded battle scars. Soon her hands would be upon him, touching him in a way she had never touched any man and the very thought made her stomach tighten.

Moving to unfasten his belt, her eyes followed, well aware of the way he was watching her. As if it was her reaction which was on display rather than his nudity and perhaps it was. Rollo didn't hesitate as he pulled the leather through its loops nor did he hesitate as he unbound the laces on his trousers, revealing just a hint of dark curls.