“I know, but what if –”
His face dipped close to mine and his voice was quiet but low and fierce when he said, “It will not for you will never be far from my side. It is a measure of a man, my wife, how he cheats in cards. And it is a measure of a man, any man, be he married to a pub wench or a princess, how he cares for his bride. I am a Drakkar, my measure is different than any man’s and there are many facets to that but one of them explains why I turn away without a thought from those whose lifeblood seeps into the snow, those who moved with intent to harm my bride and I won’t think of them, ever. I will only turn my mind to how I can best care for my bride and that now includes undermining any threat that may loom for you and I vow to you, my princess, if it means my own life, this will not happen.”
I stared into his eyes. Then I whispered, “Okay,” because really, what else could I do? He sounded pretty freaking serious.
His eyes shifted from serious to soft and then they smiled.
Then he repeated, “Okay.”
I sucked in an unsteady breath.
Then I said, “Though, um… just to say, if you’re going to vow to keep me safe I’d kinda like you to vow to keep you safe too.” His soft eyes started to warm and I rushed on, “You know, because… well, who’ll chop the wood and lug it into the house if you’re assassinated or something?”
The soft warmth of his eyes took on another smile and he muttered, “My wife does not like carrying wood.”
“It isn’t my favorite chore,” I admitted. “My time is better spent baking pies.”
The smile reached his mouth before he murmured, “Then I best stay around to do it.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
He moved his head and brushed his nose against mine.
Then he whispered, “Then I’ll vow to keep me safe too…” he paused, “so I can be around to chop wood.”
“And lug it in the house,” I added.
“And lug it in the house,” he agreed.
I stared into his eyes, so beautiful, so close and felt his arms, so strong, so tight, and felt his body, so big, so powerful, all of it making me feel so… very… safe and the trembling stopped.
Then I slid my face to the side and tucked it in his neck as I slid my arms around his body and held on tight.
I felt Frey tip his head so his lips where at my ear when he asked, “Are you all right now, my wee Finnie?”
“No, not really but give me a minute and I’ll get there.”
He kissed my neck.
That made me feel better.
Then he held me and I held on until I felt totally better. Or, at least, better enough to change into my nightgown.
Then I whispered, “I’m good now Frey. I need to go change for bed.”
“All right, Finnie,” he agreed, his arms loosening, “hurry.”
I pulled away, looked at him, gave him a small smile then leaned in to give him a quick lip touch.
Then I moved away and hurried.
I was back in bed, held tight to my husband’s side, cradling his thigh in less than five minutes.
It took me a lot longer to find sleep.
But eventually I did it.
* * * * *