Page 488 of Flirting with Darkness

FENRIR

DEMELZA CARLTON

1

Tonight was the night Fenrir took his first steps along the path to be more than a thrall, he told himself, as he stepped inside the jarl’s longhouse. He could remember when it was the only longhouse, but now there were several, ringing the outer walls of the fort.

“I brought you more wood for the fire, Miss Astrid,” he said cheerfully, adding to the pile already stacked up against the wall. He’d grown bored of standing about on guard duty, so he’d picked up an axe and gone to work. No one could approach the door without him seeing, and he’d been able to do something useful, too.

Astrid looked up. “Thank you, Fenrir.” She went back to brushing her hair. “You know, you could go and join the feast, if you want. You don’t need to keep me company. I can keep the fire burning here until Father is finished with his guests.”

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t, Miss Astrid. I promised your father I would protect you, and I am true to my word.” He drew himself up proudly. He knew his shoulders were not as broad as some of Jarl Erik’s best warriors, or even Erik himself, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Erik’s village was a prosperous one, where not even a thrall’s son like Fenrir went hungry.

“Surely you can protect me inside the longhouse just as well as outside. Come, sit by me and amuse me. Every musician and storyteller in the village is at the feast, entertaining Njal and his men, while all I have are dried fish to keep me company.” She patted the small stool beside her.

Her hair shone in the firelight like spun gold. He’d never seen anything more beautiful. But he did not dare touch it. If a thrall touched the jarl’s daughter…he’d be dead by morning.

So Fenrir took the stool and set it down across the fire from her. “Would you like me to sing for you, Miss Astrid?”

She laughed so hard she nearly choked. “By all the gods, no. A dying seagull sings sweeter than you. Or me, so at least we have that in common. No, tell me tales of what has been happening outside these four walls Father has insisted I cannot leave while our guests are here. Is it true that Njal’s men are giants?”

Fenrir shook his head. “They are no bigger than any of our men. In fact, I think Bjorn is easily twice the size of some of theirs. No wonder your father agreed to allow them inside the fort. Bjorn by himself could conquer the lot of them.”

She sighed as she set her brush down, and began to braid her hair. “Yet Father feels it is too dangerous for me to venture out of the door, where they might see me.”

Fenrir grinned. “Of course! You are his greatest treasure. If even one of Njal’s men glimpsed you, he would lose his mind out of love for you, and every man would go mad to possess you. Better to be safe here than stuffed in a sack and stolen.”

“I know, but…” She bit her lip. “Don’t tell my father I said this, but the longer he keeps me cooped up in here, the more I begin to wonder if maybe it would be better to take the risk. To ask for adventure. To be stolen by the right man, a warrior who would protect me so well I need not hide like I have to here…” Astrid shook her head. “Or maybe I am simply going mad myself, stuck in here. Forget I said anything. One walk along the beach would cure me of such crazy ideas, but I do not know how long I must wait until Father allows it.”

“I have no such orders. He only told me to protect you. If I were to take you down to the beach, surely he would not mind. Everyone is in the big longhouse, at the feast, and will be for hours yet. We could be back before anyone knew we’d gone…”

Astrid’s eyes lit up. “Would you?”

Fenrir could refuse her nothing. “Of course, Miss Astrid.”

Which was why the walk on the beach, admiring the moonlight mirrored in the still waters of the bay, turned into a short boat trip to the small, rocky islet so she might search for seabirds’ eggs, though Fenrir knew there would be none, for he’d collected them all himself in the week before the feast.

In the end, he walked with her up and down the tiny beach beneath the islet’s cliffs, watching the half moon set over the waves.

“So beautiful,” Astrid breathed. “It’s hard to see where the sky ends, and the sea begins. Like the only land left is this little rock, with us on it, surrounded by a sea of stars.”

Lunacy touched him then, from the last rays of the setting moon. For surely if he’d had his wits about him, it never would have happened.

“The most beautiful part of this scene is you,” Fenrir said, before he kissed her.

And, by some miracle he did not deserve, Astrid kissed him back.

One perfect moment, stretching forever in the stars.

Until Astrid’s mouth tore away from his, even as she clung to him. “What’s that?” she whispered.

Fenrir ducked his head. Her kiss had aroused him so much, he hadn’t been able to help himself. He was standing to attention for her, ready to bed her if she but said the word. “Forgive me, Miss Astrid, but your beauty and your kisses have driven me mad.”

“What are you talking about?” She stared at him. “I’m talking about those!” She pointed out into the bay, where Fenrir could just discern boats, gliding in silently with the waves. Dozens of them.

“Must be some of the fishermen, coming in late with their catch,” Fenrir said.

Astrid shook her head. “No, all our boats are pulled up on shore. Father insisted upon it, before Njal arrived. Those can’t be our men. We have to warn them!” She drew in a breath, as if she meant to shout across the water.

---