Thorn Rose

Faylin, a nun devoted to God, never thought that there would come the day her peaceful home would be raided by vikings. She hates them with her entire being - heathens. When the Jarl takes a sudden interest in her Faylin vows to not stray away from her convictions.


3. Defiance

(Not edited)



WARNING: There is a little of violence on this chapter.



                                                                                         Chapter 3 


There was no elements and the sea waves were calm. The sun had dipped below the horizon and still, there was no sight of land. As Faylin laid besides Ahlis on the large bag made of skin, thrown at them not long ago, her eyes followed the men every movement, as agreed.


She and Ahlis had decided to take turns keeping watch – it was a pathetic attempt, but she wouldn’t risk being taken by surprise. To her relieve, no one seemed to care about their presence, they either keep calling each other telling jokes, she assumed, or laughing. It was odd, but Faylin found a sort of strange comfort in it.


She shivered as a gust of wind suddenly picked up and nipped at her legs. She gasped sharply, going wide eyed as she looked down.  The tunic had risen during her sleep, exposing the milky skin. Faylin hastily tried to cover herself by pushing the bottom of her tunic down, using her feet. ~


Slowly raising her head, she looked around to see if anyone had seen her cover her modesty, when she saw him. 


A dark-haired man tilted his head back and took a long, slow sip from a horn, all the while his gaze fixed on her. Although Faylin had never been this close to a man before, she knew those hands were capable of causing destruction, of taking her virtue and dignity...


She tried not to let the flicker of disgust register in her face but he was able to see right through her expressionless façade. Wiping away the liquid off his chin with the back of his hand, he smirked at her before standing up. 


“Tore! Ek nauðsyn á hóra! Hani minn verkjum fyrir hlýja kisa” ("Tore! I need a whore! My c*ck aches for a warm pussy”) The dark-haired man said.


Everyone hushed. Faylin’s eyes shifted between the men, an uneasy tension settling in the air.


The way everyone’s gaze fell upon her was impossible to ignore; she didn’t understand their language and she didn’t like being left on the dark. She nudged Ahlis to wake her up.


The girl blinked her eyes open and mumbled something under her breath, completely unaware of the dire situation they found themselves in.


“Þú getur haft annan, frá öðru skipi þegar við ná landi” (“You can have another, from another ship when we reach land”) A deep voice rang through the silence.


Faylin could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Despite her current predicament, she could not deny – his voice had a soft edge to it that drew her in.


Giving Ahlis a look that was partly exasperation, she directed her focus back on the man who spoke. There, near the prow of the ship, he stood. With his back turned to her, Faylin could see he had a head full of dirty blonde hair and a red cloak that rested on his broad shoulders. On his waist, by his left side hung a sword. Indeed, it was a beautiful crafted tough sword, but Faylin knew that it could lop off a man’s head with one stroke.


The dark-haired man took a few steps forward and obscured the blonde one from her view. His face was blood red, veins pulsing on his forehead.


“Ég get ekki skilið. Hver er munurinn á milli kristinna manna tíkur?!” (“I can not understand. What is the difference between these Christian bitches?!”) The dark-haired man asked; spit flying freely from his mouth. Then slowly, murmurs started to rise in volume, few men bobbing their heads.They all appeared to be in what looked like a heated discussion.


Faylin started breathing hard and became tearful, struck senseless by fear of the unknown. She was on a ship, in the middle of an endless ocean, with wild men that looked more animal than human. It was at times like these – this far by the worst - , that she cursed her parents. If they hadn’t gave her up… If, If, If. The If´s were killing her.


She squeezed her eyes shut tight when she heard heavy footsteps and a sudden cracking sound followed by a thud. She didn’t knew what to expect when opening her eyes but the vision that met her had her gaping.

She never thought that a man as large as the dark-haired one could be able to be brought to his knees.  


The hand wrapped around his neck was making his face turn red from the lack of oxygen; his mouth hung open, emitting raspy breaths. Faylin sensed Ahlis move closer to her, both squirming as they watched the man’s tongue being pulled out. It was an intense disturbing moment.


“Þú þora að setja menn mína í gegn mér? HVAR LIGGUR HOLLUSTA ÞÍN HALLKEL?” (You dare to put my men against me? WHERE DOES YOUR LOYALTY LIES, HALLKEL?)


She and Ahlis jumped at the male's deep voice. There was no feeling in it, only a hint of danger. Faylin felt her heart skip a beat as she craned her neck, seeing the blonde’s face for the first time. The first thing she noticed was his eyes. That was what made her recognize him. 


He was breathing heavily, a dark expression attached on his chiseled face. The hair that fell down his shoulders; the small golden blond beard covering his upper lip and strong pointed chin made him look like a brutal warrior. In that moment, Faylin knew that getting in his way was asking for a death sentence. 


Distinctive bird calls echoed in distance when a man shouted, breaking the sudden silence.  “Útlit! Það er að rokk!” (“Look! It is the rock!”)


Besides her, Ahlis let out a short, embarrassed yelp as everyone quickly sprang to their feet and started singing; clearly having caught her off guard. The sound of their hoarse voices resonated through the air as they sat on the benches, took the oars and started rowing. Faylin’s eyes just stayed locked on the two figures that remained motionless in their places, a flicker of something passed between them.


“Do you think he's going to kill him?” Ahlis asked her. When Faylin didn't reply, she continued “I almost thought he would throw him off the ship...”  The girl shrink back, trying to make herself as small as possible. ~


~Throwing the man away, he spared him one last withering glance before looking around, as if waiting for someone to defy him. She watched the muscle in his jaw twitch as his gaze met hers.


Bravely, she held her chin high, looking directly into those ocean deep orbs. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly upward before he turned his back on her. It was then that she saw it. Slowly, the thin, dark outline of land appeared far away, in the distance.


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