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.


6. Mine

(Not edited)


"If I'd wanted to kill you, I'd have done it already." 


Tore had said to her after approaching her with a sharp blade in hand; His eyes had narrowed into slits, daring her to challenge him as he took hold of her hands and cut the tight ropes around her wrists with the dagger. 


She discreetly rubbed them and sighed in relief as the blood circulation flowed easily once again. Faylin knew the only reason he had done it so was because her chances of escaping were very low; the swelling above her knee prevented her from running.


Faylin wondered how Ahlis had made it through. She prayed for the girl well-being.


Suddenly Tore grabbed her arm and lifted her to her feet, pulling her flush against his hard body. "If you try to escape, I will find you," he said tersely, face inches from hers "and when I do, you'll be sorry" Her eyes had widened, frightened by both his words and towering size. 


Faylin felt her nostrils flare and her hatred towards the man behind her ratchets up another notch. Her throat was still sore and swollen from her earsplitting screams of the day before, when he had pulled her outside the tent, dragging her towards a black stallion. A growling sound had come from Tore before he had smacked her rump, making her yelp and shut her mouth in rage and fear. The prominent veins on his forearm were visible as his muscular arms lifted her up in front of him, encircling her body.


The insufferable man!


His dangerous threat was still ringing in her ears as she kept her back straightened, trying with all her might to not touch his chest; she was already situated between his solid thighs, forced to suffer the feel of them along hers. She shivered in disgust.


"Are you cold?"  His warm breath washed over the shell of her ear. Faylin forced herself not to react to his close proximity. So close he was that she felt the force of his exhalations in her hair, the heat from his body and the moment he moved to adjust the cloak until it covered both of them. She tried to appear unaffected as she murmured hoarsely


"I'd rather have a cold death"


Faylin tried to push away the cloak from her shoulders but an arm slid around her waist, tightening around her as a warning. She huffed in annoyance, her eyes narrowing as she ceased struggling. The long tiring journey made Faylin aware of how exhausted and hungry she really was. She wondered if her captor was planning to feed her. Not that I will beg for it, I despise anything that comes from him.


"Þrjóskur kona!" (Stubborn woman!) He said roughly. "Þú ert að fara að vera dauði mig..." (You're going to be the death of me...) 


She ignored him, watching as they rode through the wood. My future has changed irrevocably; she thought, as she looked skyward. She would miss her old life and hold dear the moments of happiness she had... for now onwards, this, this would be a life sentence...a fate worse than death.


From the corner of her eye she saw a man approach them. 


"Ég sé að þú hefur fundið samsvörun þinn. Turid verður að vera ánægð fyrir þig" (I see you have found your match. Turid will be happy for you) the man said.


"Mmm...hún er sterk og heilbrigð ung kona..." Faylin felt his gaze on her "Er alveg feisty líka." (Mmm...She's a strong and healthy young woman... Quite feisty, too.) Tore chuckled deeply. The sound unnerving her. 


When the man threw his head back and laughed aloud, Faylin turned slightly and glared at him. Unlike Tore, the man had raven black hair that was neatly braided at the back and he had a more carefree attitude. He had a well-built muscular body and a scar that ran across his left cheek. 


The man raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue when he caught Faylin's harsh glare.


"Ég myndi sofa með annað augað opið frá nú á, ef ég væri þú, vinur minn. Hún gæti drepið þig í svefni." (I would sleep with one eye open from now on, if I were you, my friend. She might kill you in your sleep.)


There was a moment of silence before Tore talked "Ég efast ekki að hún reyni,en hvort hún vill það eða ekki hún er mitt núna.Ég mun búast hana til að hita rúmið mitt. Því fyrr sem hún samþykkt stöðu hennar, því betra." (I don't doubt she'll try, but whether she wants it or not she's mine now. I will expect her to warm my bed. The sooner she accepts her status, the better.) 


 "Og ef ekki?" (And if not?)


 "Ég mun brjóta anda hennar" (I will break her spirit)


All of a sudden, the men cheered as a huge shadow passed over them. Startled, Faylin looked up, watching an eagle fly away, spreading its broad wings and flapping powerfully ahead. She wanted to cry out in frustration as they exited the trees, leaving behind the forest, for the sight that greeted her eyes stole her breath from her.


It seemed as if her faith had left her. I will never escape these walls unharmed! She could feel it.  - no. She knew.


Her gaze never left the stone fortress as she released the breath she had been holding in as a heave sigh.

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